Today was another 20+ kilometre day and we did make good time despite the blister problem. We left Azofra shortly after 7:00 am. It was still dark and it was all concentration at each turn in the road as we searched for the way markers.

The very idea of having to re-trace our steps even when I don’t have blisters makes me careful when we are choosing our path.

We’ve left the vineyards of La Rioja behind and as we draw nearer to the Meseta, the vast highland plain of central Spain, the country-side has opened up.

The country-side outside Azofra just after dawn

The big skies and arid climate reminds both of us of home. It’s s like the MacKenzie Country … before intensification.

I saw a quince tree, too. The fruit is almost ripe. Ours is probably in blossom right now. I am sorry to miss that – they’re a beautiful tree in the spring.

Every five or six kilometres we stopped to check out the blister situation. I’m happy to report that two are marginally better and one smallish one is a bit worse. I’ll manage that one a little differently tomorrow – and I’m sure it’ll be better too.

I only mention the blister situation because of their signifance in the synchronicity of things. If we hadn’t stopped in  Ciruena for the first required check-up (there may have been a pan au chocolat involved as well) we’d have missed this wonderful sight.

Traffic stoppers

Just like at home the traffic, in this case walkers, give way to sheep. You’ll be pleased to know the sheep in Spain smell the same as they do at home.

Interestingly, the sheep wore bells and followed the shepherd, who led them across the road and then waited while they grazed. There isn’t a fence in sight.

In the next town, Santa Domingo, another blister check (this time there may have been a ham and cheese roll involved) meant we came upon a parade in honour of San Jeronimo Hermosillo, a son of the town. The altar boys lead the way, followed by the priest and then the dancers,

Traditional dancers

the local dignitaries, and then the statue of the Saint himself held high above the crowds.

From San Domingo it was a bit of a slog in the heat of the early afternoon. Granon is another hill top village, at the top of a hill(!), and we both felt every step of it.

Tomorrow, it’s time for a shorter day – only about 12 kilometres or so. My feet will thank me.