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Espana Sola.Girando y Girando***Forever, it Seems.

Well the last few days of our Camino Improvisado have been exactly that : a turning and turning. Girando y Girando. Physically as we search for paths and signs and wind around steep hills. Mentally as I am forced back on my own resources. Thoughts and emotions gather momentum as certainty diminishes and doubt creeps in.

We were so prepared. Yes a long day from Torrijos to Escalona, so taxi a short distance to Masqueda, leaving 17km on foot. A reasonable distance and an enjoyable walk.

It was exciting when we found the first Camino Levante sign.

The next few hours were all a Camino can be : fields and flowers, soft grass underfoot , a bit of mud.

Until the last bit. Bitumen and the inevitable slog uphill into Escalona.

All said and done an ok day. Tomorrow San Martin and a neat 22km.

The next day we were dropped off at Almorex, leaving 22 km of great walking , we thought.

So sure we were that I impatiently shrugged off a conversation with a fellow walker from Sydney, at our first coffee stop.( Poor guy had been walking solo for a good 2 weeks and was pleased to be able to talk. Sorry Sydney guy). If I’d engaged with him I would have known that the turn off was very near our coffee place. Instead, I strode off for a good 8 km , with hard bitumen underfoot and cars whizzing past on the N 420.

Elaine checking maps about 2 hours into our walk

So. 8 km on the boring, hard, dangerous highway. But fortune shines briefly. We find an alternative path that will connect us back to the Camino . Off we go: through a gap in the electric fence and along a muddy country path . No more traffic.

How clever. Lunch on a rock with a view of the valley beneath. It was a lively half hour or so. Until we no longer saw the Camino sign. Ever hopeful we ploughed on ; the path continued to wind on itself and we kept going. It was no longer fun ; just hard work as I walked and slid my way towards a destination that seemed to slip sideways as I approached. Actually the path was avoiding the private land fenced off with a clear message “ Privado “.

Finally met up with Eileen and then we’re into San Martin. 27 km of walking and my legs can feel it.

This is the Camino though. So we turn into the Hostal El Pilar in the uninspiring San Martin and plan tomorrow. To Cebreros.

Worse was to follow on our third day. Off we set, a bit stiffly after the long climb the day before. Up the hills we’d just torturously come down . Again we slogged up the bit of interminable bitumen and round and round the gyre . Surely the Levante sign to Cebrecos our destination today, was nearby ?

Well , we’d passed it miles down the path all the way back . So off we set. To repeat the slithering and slipping down and up and down to the bottom . In the hottest part of the day and water was nearly finished .

Resourceful we are, though. Elaine called a taxi . Half an hour and there we were in El Rondon hotel , Cebreros . From La Salve ( salvation) to El Rondon ( random/unexpected/ surprising). More of that later.

Now: Resolutions, again

Be kind and listen

Take time to check and look

Be alert

Start walking early

*** Ref. I WB Yeats.The Second Coming.

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre”

……….The gyre metaphor encapsulates the cyclical nature of history where periods of stability and order are followed by periods of chaos and decline. I’m borrowing the metaphor though to convey the frustration, confusion and sense of being swirled around in a circle without end. The fragile sense of order we cling to can disappear, and often does, while walking along unknown paths .

Espana Sola. Un noche Magia .

Sometimes it just happens . Magic unfolds . Tonight in Escalona ( Central western Spain , North of Toledo. La Mancha. Cervantes country), after a meal in the bar opposite where I’m staying :

I went for a walk. Back to the castle at the entry to the town. We passed by as we staggered up the hill at the end of yesterday’s walk. But here it is this evening just as the sun is setting.

The best part of the evening : Two kids whose photos I took came by and wanted to see. After an involved conversation I got the photo to them. Cheeky lovely kids .

Then I walked past the place I’d photographed . I wished I could stay. This is La Mancha, Don Quixote country after all . I feel a bit of a failure ,

Looked like more magic. But maybe not , and maybe just as well I headed back to sleep . Tomorrow’s another walking day .

But this whole town is alive . I passed our bar , full of people now at 10.30 pm . They’re just starting up. I’m ending my day.

Isn’t that magic? Buenas Noches.

Espana Sola.Well, My Bags Unpacked; Ready to Go…..Tomorrow

First day of NOT walking the Levante. I reckon for reasons unknown this Camino is an elusive one . Maybe it’s the Camino Improvisado? ( a makeshift, improvised walk?). Here we are, my camino mate Elaine and I in an hotel of faded grandeur in Torrijos, a 34 km walk from Toledo. A 20 minute bus ride.

After all that re-packing , after all that careful discarding of assorted heavy items in my pack: like running shoes ( an older pair to change into , but they weigh), squeezing out toiletery items , hurried read of the current detective story filched from a pile left in accomadation. All for the walk that never happened .

I’m not at all chastened or embarrassed. In fact it’s been an interesting day, visiting the Toledo Cathedral this morning and seeing the El Greco masterpiece in the sacristy, along with some of his other paintings.

An enormous, cavernous , dark Cathedral with lots to see .

My favourite . A tubby cherub holding up the huge altarpiece

Then we did the walk around back to our hotel …..,, it’s not a twisted ankle or a fall I have to avoid, it’s the traffic squeezing down the narrow streets and alleys, creeping up behind ; the odd motor bike and skateboard zooming past, while the next rush of people following determinedly behind the leader who wields an umbrella above his head. The path is blocked.

We collected our packs and made for the bus station , intending to get the bus as far as Rielves and then walk the remaining 15 km to Torrijos . The later bus we eventually found did not stop on the way. Express to Torrijos .

So here we are in this strange looking hotel. With the lovely name La Salve . 27 km tomorrow . We’re taxiing the first 5 km.

Look what we found walking around a town which seems a bit ghost-like. The gothic style church which is really beautiful. It has a softness and a worn beauty that the Toledo Cathedral did not have., for me anyway..

Built in the late 1500s, A beautiful example of Gothic . Sadly needs a lot of work

That’s life . That’s making it up as you go. Thats improvisado.That’s a sort of fun.

Espana Sola. Hola Toledo;what do I see?

About the third attempt at a reasonable selfie !

Well here I am ,first night in Toledo, eating again. Or finally, I should write as I’ve been travelling most of the day. Between watching the train departures board, getting into the right carriage, changing trains , working out where to charge my phone, following map directions, I’ve been occupied .

But I did have some interesting conversations . First with the owner of .La Esparteria where I’ve been staying for the week. I loved the place with it’s top floor bay window from where I could watch people passing by, and the rooftop patio. I also loved Córdoba. We talked about her rooms , the unrealistic expectations of guests, and how far away Australia is and parted with hugs and vows of my return next year with my “marido”. Then I conversed with two younger Venezuelan women on platform 2 at Cordoba, while we were waiting for the train . They were going to Madrid. As only women can , our brief but in depth conversation ranged from the dangers in South American states , except Venezuela, to domestic life universally. All in Spanish !

So my linguistic skills are improving; one of the objectives of this trip. I just need to remember to relax and not try and translate each word.

So to Toledo

Well the train station is amazing , From that position of vantage it seems like a Lego city has been dropped onto the landscape. Looking back, behind the station , it’s just flat farmland. Walk away from the station towards the Alcantara Bridge and there’s another section : stuck on hilltops .

View from bridge before entry to old city

My heart leaps. I’m going to have to climb some of these hills in a couple of days . Then it’s up and up the winding paths and through the reconstructed archway with the ominous sounding name, Arc de Sangre .

Me me me . Next to a statue of Cervantes. He looks pretty serious too

So , first impressions? A severe city. There’s a a seriousness about it which probably reflects the heavy, sombre hand of 17 C Christianity ? The lines of the buildings are straight as are is the street flow. Maybe I’m seeing this because I’ve come from Cordoba with it’s curves and colour and shabbiness . Also the noise and constant sound of music in the background. Cordoba to me is a city of blurred edges and multilayered history ; Christianity seems to have worked with that past rather than accomplishing a complete makeover . Or maybe the Roman/ early Christian/Arab presence has pushed on through, too deeply etched in peoples’ cultures to be extinguished: the Arab presence particularly with the white buildings, patios,, gardens and fountains, tiles and fine mosaic work . The vivid blue moves through the mix of old and new , binding all with a glorious light .

So I’ll see tomorrow. I really want to see the El Greco . Before I have to struggle up those hills of the Camino Levante

Espana Sola: A New Day, a New Spirit

Alegria. think this is the Spanish term for lively, living life, joy. Well that’s me this morning after my double dose of cafe and the fatty, sugary churros, I’ve recovered my desire for the chase,

I make it all the way to my first stop, the Plaza de Los Naranjos of the Mesquita, without turning on my phone or pouring over my crumpled map. Lots of people, but not as many as there will be in a couple of hours, and, Oh ….. just sit in the plaza and look again at the stonework and imagine robed figures walking quietly over this ground, under these orange trees all those years ago.

I found most of the Christian additions quite bulky and ugly compared to the Muslim work ( King Boabil surrendered Granada in1492 and by 1614 all the Muslims who had converted to Christianity were expelled.Then, roll on on the Reconquiste.

But I deviate. I’m off to see the evidence of another group of people who lived harmoniously with Muslims and Christians in Spain for a few hundred years, until they too were expelled .

I remember how to get to the Jewish Synagogue, and I head down the squashy street, even stop to look in at a silver jewellery shop or two, and finger the linen pants hanging along the wall. Yes I know this is all touristy, but I don’t care.

My luck is holding . There are only a few people in the Synagogue, unlike a few days ago when the queue wound round the corner. It’s very peaceful in this small space.

One of the archways with the original stonework and inscriptions exposed

Back into the hustle and bustle of Calle Almanzar running alongside the old city wall ; it seems that everyone loves sitting here, yelling at lunch companions in a frenzy of eating and drinking .

I squeeze my way through and in a few minutes there is quiet. I see a small cafe on my right with only one person standing at the counter eating what looks like a very delicious bocadilla. Success. A gaseosa, a bocadilla of cheese, egg and salad and delicious sauces. All for for E5. Plus I have a long conversation with the jefa, who says I can have one of the exchange books on the shelf.

Very full, I walk further on and come to …. I’m beginning to tire now,and make rash moves into unknown territory until … I’m back where I was 2 days sgo and needed to go to the loo.

I sit on a park bench and finish my drink .

Then I make for the Alcazar. That’s a story for tomorrow.

(A few notes on Mesquita: dates from 784 -786 when a Umayyad ruler built over a Visigoth Basilica.Extensions in 9th and 20th century, However Muslims and Christians worshipped here, until 1236 when the Mesquita became a Christian Cathedral. The Moorish character altered a lot in 16th C with the huge, ornate high altar plunged into the centre, mumerous chapels constructed around the perimeter of the beautiful open space …… , and a huge choir )

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