Today was a mixed emotions day. Lots of up’s and down’s. I decided to stay the morning in León to visit the Real Basílica de San Isodoro with unrestored frescos over 800 years old. It was certainly worth the rain of the last 6km’s today. It has made more of an impression on me than the painting of the Last Supper of Leonardo da Vinci in Milan.

Julie had an opportunity to spend the night with Lee for €35 at the Parador whic I encouraged her to do. I already made up my mind to leave for Villar de Mazarife. It did mean saying goodbye again which is hard to do.

For the first time since Marcel left I’m now completely alone. I am now going to have to rely on my Higher Self for each step.

The Camino out of the big cities drains the soul as it is traffic and industrial sites. Once I reached La Virgen del Camino the signs were difficult to follow and I had to backtrack twice. Cross under and over highways. All of a sudden I was on the páramo with rich red soil and nothing but birds and endless nothingness. It has been overcast the whole day and as I walk I pray that it doesn’t start raining.

My prayers go unanswered and about 2km’s from Chozas de Abajo it starts to drip. I cover my backpack and put on the poncho and about 20 steps later the heavens open up. I reach the outskirts of yet another no horse town with one bar,Chozas de Abajo, where a stable with an overhang provides some shelter from the torrential downpour where I huddle for half an hour at least hoping for a break so I can reach the one bar I town which is about 500m away.

Eventually this beautiful cat sneaks out from underneath a parked truck into the rain and I think if he/she can do it then so can I. A bent over lady in a doorway points me to the one bar in town where 10 old men are playing cards. They all stop to look at me when I walk in drenched and cold. Cafe con leche por favour is what I utter.

I muster my Spanish and ask the barman if I could phone a taxi. Outside it looks like the midst of a Cape Town winter. I get a number Nd ask the driver who tells me “no posible” but not sure why. Out of desperation I phone Marc and ask him to call the driver. It is nearly 5km’s to my destination. Marc calls me back to say the guy is on holiday and under no circumstances is he willing to drive the 5km’s to pick me up.

Ok, this is a test. Whilst standing under half a metre of shelter under the stable’s roof I think how lucky I am that I don’t live in a shack that leaks when it rains and is not warm. I eat the other half of my sandwich which I left over from breakfast, cover me and my pack and set out. I am grateful that my feet are ok; not fantastic but I walk without pain.

I am rewarded with a light drizzle and towards the west whic is where I’m heading it is clear with the most beautiful sunsets and cloud formations. I end up an hour later in Villar de Mazarife and walk past the first albergue into town. My sixth sense tells me to turn around and I walk back to albergue San Antonio de Pádua where it turns out we are only 5 Peregrinos and Carlos is the cook. We are served a fantastic home cooked meal. There is a hot shower and a clean bed.

Again I am taught a lesson in humility and perseverance.

Die Camino het ‘n reuk. Marcel sal weet wat ek bedoel. Dis asof die reuk in jou klere, slaapsak en rugsak intrek. Dit maak nie saak hoeveel keer jou klere gewas word nie, daai reuk bly. Ek kan dit nie verduidelik nie, maar het vanoggend met Julie vergelyk en daai reuk is daar in haar klere ook.