Long day yesterday: Victoria-Toronto, Toronto-Madrid, express bus from airport to station, fast train to Seville, then slow train to Huelva. Had a little debate with the fellow on the plane about the best way to get from the airport to the station. He was taking the metro, but had to transfer to another terminal first. We opted for the express bus.
To cut a very long story short, I have had another unsuccessful experience with an eSIM card. Even the lady in the Orange store in town could not put it right. Finally, when I said, “Bloody hell! Give me an old-fashioned, physical SIM card (translated by my amiable son-in-law, the linguist),” she set about to do so, only to tell me, “Sorry I can’t, you’re already in the system.” (That really was the short version of the story!) So I’m on EasyRoam with Virgin again, which is anything but easy at $16 a day.
It was a hard day for me, jet-lagged and lacking sleep, but relatively easy for the younguns.
We left the cathedral, the official beginning of the camino, walked up and over a hill, along a ridge overlooking the delta, and on to an outer suburb where we drank a second coffee.
And then, such joy, out into the countryside. Wheat on one side, barley on the other, and such a profusion of flowers in the ditch, a yellow spread of daisies, buttercups and wild mustard, interrupted by red poppies, nodding their heads together in vigorous conversation, or standing soberly on their own, as if embarrassed by such jocund company. But on one occasion, this joyous scene was interrupted by some massive clumps of cactus with vicious thorns, alien creatures frowning on this beauteous scene.
As always, little incidents interrupted the rhythm of the day. At the edge of town a cyclist riding by shouted, Buen Camino, which cheered us up no end. Later we came upon a fellow cutting the long grass with a scythe for his horse. Better than hay, he said. Towards the end of the day, I ventured off the bitumen onto the dirt beside the road, only to find it was but a thin crust covering a veritable quagmire of quicksand. My friends had to pull me out.
For much of the day we walked along a rather busy road, with little room at the side for pedestrians, and then a minor road stretching on for ever into the distance, so that by the end of the day I was walking, not with an iambic, but a spondaic, even despondaic gait.
OMG Charles, at $16/day I'll be buying coffees for a while. Nice to see you still have a sense of humour.
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