Day 18. March 27, 2017. Oliva de Placensia to Aldeanueva del Camino. 27 kms.

There is a willow grows aslant a brook

 

 

I set off into a light drizzle, the kind of drizzle the Scots have a special word for, across the flattest field I have seen on this walk, towards Caparra. The Spaniards had accepted a lift offered by our hospitalier. They were going farther than I today, so I may have seen the last of them for a while. I can't say I'm sorry. It was becoming frustrating for all of us, not understanding one another.

I am walking beside farmers' all day, and opening and closing gates. Typically, the fields are fenced with dry stone walls or barbed wire, or both, in various states of repair, and the gates may be sturdy and fastened with massive bolts or lean to's attached with bailing twine. Like farmers' fences everywhere.

 

But as I walked across the field this morning towards Caparra, I passed through the Finca Los Baldios, unlike anything else I've seen. The entrance to the estate was grandiose, and even some of the gates to the fields were marked by stone columns. Fence posts were heavy steel set in concrete, and the railings were five sturdy steel bars. Feeding troughs had elaborate headstones like tombs in a graveyard. Such an estate must cost hundreds of thousands of euros a year to maintain, I mused. How many cattle would they have to run to break even?

I

 

I felt a sense of awe as I walked through the famous arch at Caparra. How many important historical figures had passed through before me? And how many had walked or ridden this path before the arch was built? The site was closed so I couldn't visit it, but the foundations revealed the extent of the old Roman town.

 

My guide had advised that there were lots of river crossings on this step, and that these could be dangerous after heavy rain. I wasn't too worried as it had been raining for only a few days. 

Typically, where the way fords a stream, concrete has been poured on the bed, and blocks have been set in the concrete as stepping stones. For the first couple of crossings, the water was not high and I was able to cross easily. Then I came to the one pictured below. Do you see the problem?

 

I walked across on the stepping stones but when I got to the middle I found that one of the blocks was missing and had been swept downstream. I couldn't risk the five-foot leap. So I got down, and clinging to the block, put one foot on the pile of debris in the stream and stepped to the other side, hanging on to the next block for support. I made my way to the bank, and just when I was congratulating myself on a successful crossing, my left foot slipped down into the icy water.

At my next ford, again there was a block missing in the middle, not even visible downstream this time, so I backed up and crossed by a nearby bridge.

The clouds lifted as I found myself walking along a wide droving track, one of the Cañadas Reales, set up in AD 1273 to allow shepherds to move their sheep across the country. This one followed the route of the Roman road.

I am staying at a private albergue, La Casa de Mi Abuela. Very nice place, and oh so warm!