The pathways are wide but treeless, with very little repite from the sun even in the tiny villages we walk through. I cant but help feeling like we are in a zombie movie, not a soul anywhere, shutters flapping in the breeze, a stray dog or cat scurrying away, and not a sound apart from our poles and shoes.
Boadilla was a pretty little village - again with the post apocalypse feeling to it. At least there was a bar open, souless, but open with cold drinks.
The noteable thing about the place was the awesome way to get water at the fountain in Boadilla.
Morgan was very excited as we approached the vilkage as he knew what the fountain was like.
You need to spin the wheel to draw the water. So sweet and cold!
Of the bumps and bruises.. Both kids tripped or skidded and fell quite hard along the road today - enough to draw blood and rip pants. A bit of TLC snd bandaids fixed the worst of it and some needlework tonight should pstch things. Our goal of getting further along today was dashed as these incidents both sucked time and inspiration. Ahh well.. Another day.
The last 6 km of our walk was aling the canals. Again no shade, and the desperatly teasing temptation of leaping into the cool waters kept us going.
We arrived pretty late into Fromista and though had intended on going a further three km to the next village, decided to pull up for the day.
This is us going across the lock if the canal.
We visited the two noteable churches here. I couldnt believe how cold it was inside- like a fridge.
The outside belies what traasures it stores within. Incredible.
Inglesia de San Martin hosts some invaluable medieval alter paintings. They've been taken down from inside the church and in a more secure place in aside chapel. One of the perks of being a pilgrim is that you either get in free or at a very small price.
The other noteable church is closeby- gorgeous medieval carvings inside Inglesia de San Martin Church.
We attempted to find an Albergue, but every one we went to was full. Though the next one was foir km away, we were all tired and couldnt face another hour - esp as it was along the highway.
Normally, bars are happy to call a taxi for you - or there is someone who says they are a taxi and will drive you somewhere for cash. However, we walked into four bars to ask, and I had coins to pay for the call - but was told to go and find it myself ( taxi rank was empty) or callone myself using public phonebox in the square. This was a pretty rude shock as we had only ever found helpfulness toward pilgrims.
The lesson I think from this is that we don't get the chance to get a taxi when the going gets tough.. We have to suck it up.
We were blessed to run across a spanish lass we'd met a week ago who took us to the church Albergue and spoke to the hostellier. We'd been there and been told it was full- but I have such poor understanding of Spanish its hard sometimes to get the message. She sorted out that we could sleep on the dining room floor on two mattresses as long as we were up by 6 am.. Eekk. Ok for me but its going to kill the kids.....
