Hoofed it to Merida

My choice today was 25 km to a small hamlet with a Pension above a gas station, or 40 to Merida, I opted to grind it out. This was one of those days where the stimulus had to come from within, because the scenery was unlikely to get your juices going. There was the occasional flower burst or bucolic scene with cows grazing, but for the most part it was 40 km on asphalt next to a busy highway. In fact, I’d have to say that one 5 km stretch on the shoulder of a busy national highway was right up there on the list of “scariest walks on the camino.” But I made it. And joy of joys, the last 8 km or so into town were far from the highway all on dirt.

So I walked into the main square at around 3 pm feeling pretty whacked. The following facts presented themselves— 1. there would be no touring for me since I have been to Merida 3 or 4 times, most recently in February with Joe. 2. there was a fancy hotel in an ancient building inviting me to go in and check out the last minute prices. 3. Since I had walked 40 today, I could sleep in and take a short stage tomorrow. All indicators pointed to my flopping down in the fancy hotel with a cheap last minute rate. Which I did!

I have been out to the Roman bridge, one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. I have been in the square in front of the hotel. But for the most part I have enjoyed the little balcony off my room, the glorious bathroom with forceful hot water spraying out of the shower head, and the lovely feeling that comes from having walked a monster stage unscathed. I am pretty ascetic but every now and then these creature comforts are irresistible.Read more