Merída to Aljucén

It was a terrible night in the albergue, there were six pilgrims, in the dorm and even with the fans going all night it was stifling, at 2am it was still 30°, I don't know about anyone else but I certainly didn't sleep much. To be fair, my subconscious mind was probably on the go thinking about saying goodbye to Ken this morning.

We were both awake long before my alarm vibrated on my wrist. We dressed quickly, and with no breakfast were out the door before 0630. We said our goodbyes and went in opposite directions. I didn't want to hang about because I remembered when I had to leave early in 2018 and how I felt that I had really let Ken down, and I guessed he might be feeling the same. It was also a very emotional moment for me, I didn't want to be crying in front of him.

I set off in the darkness, almost immediately everything seemed very familiar, and I was soon outside the city, I remember the first time I walked this road it seemed to take forever and I found it really difficult. This time it was very easy, I covered the 7km on the via verde cycle path to Proserpina in no time at all, 10km and a few hours later, feeling energised rather than wrecked, I arrived in Aljucén. It was exactly as I remembered it, as it was Sunday I was slightly concerned that the cafe would be closed. It was a bit of a disaster last time I was here, as the owner, who had the key for the albergue, had gone away for the weekend. However, it was open, so I dumped my bag at a table in the courtyard and went in to register and get some coffee and tostada. I registered and paid for my night's stay in the albergue. The wife of the bar owner took me up to the albergue and showed me around. I was the first to arrive, so I got the choice of rooms, so I chose a small room with only two beds, it turned out to be a good choice.

After my shower, I did my washing and got it hung up, then went to the store and bought some supplies including some alcohol free beer. I then went back to the bar for an early dinner and was pleasantly surprised to meet Japp and Helen, they had been staying at a posh place nearby, and were waiting for the bus to Cáceres, it was a genuine joy to meet them again.

By the time I got back to the albergue there were six other pilgrims, three of them were cyclists from Devon in England, which is not a bad thing in itself, but one of them had taken my beer out the fridge and drank it. He was horrified and his friends did their best to make him feel worse. I of course said I had been looking forward all day to having it, and how devastated I was. There was an Italian guy who had the largest backpack I have ever seen, a German guy and a Belgian guy who lives in Germany. They were all very noisy.

I had discovered that the albergue in Alcuéscar had closed unexpectedly, and that left me with few choices. According to the guidebook there is another place to say a few km from Alcuéscar, it is a truckstop, and the guidebook says it is a fleapit, and if you stay there (and it advises against it) you should under no circumstances drink the water. So that was a firm no from me. The next available albergue was in Aldea del Cano, a 35km walk from Aljucén, not only was I unsure if I could walk that distance, my blisters had not healed and one was definitely infected. the other alternative was to get a bus from Aljucén to Cáceres. I had checked the timetable in case it stopped at Aldea or Valdesalor but it was direct to Cáceres. I was not too keen on that idea but of the three it was the only viable option. So, that's what I planned to do.Read more