Day 10: Grañón to Belorado 15 km.

Today was a ‘rest’ day with only 3 hours walking. I planned a lie in, but I’m in the habit of waking up early, so I was awake before 5. The church bells in the village we’re staying in go off on the hour through the night, and the locals party late. Everything seems geared to late night life here, a side effect of hot days and balmy nights. The streets are desertduringnthe day with only us mad dogs walking around, dazed by the midday sun. When it’s time for us to be locked up in our hostels - they often have a 10pm curfew - the party is in full swing, even in a small village. These people know how to party, I keep saying it, and I’m more surprised how much this is so every day I’m here. I’ve seen videos of the party in Puente la Reina in full swing at 6am, banging house music in the middle of the town by the river.

On the second half of our walk I bump into a friendly Dutch man, and spend the morning walking and talking with him. The weather is fresh, and we are in no hurry, so he speeds his pace up a bit and I slow mine down. We chat about many things: his mother the hairdresser, nearly being a professional tennis player, speed addiction. You have time on the road to get into quite a lot of detail, and often with complete strangers. It’s a degree of intimacy that is enhanced by the transient, yet intense nature of the encounter.

We go for an evening walk before our curfew, and the town is buzzing with life. Children are out playing after dark. There is a concert in the bullring, we head over for a quick look, and spend a fun half hour dancing. The guitarist wishes us “buen camino” as we leave, and the crowd joins in. One of our party sings through the streets as we head back to our beds. I cringe, but he puts his heart and soul into the performance, I can’t fault that.

We have two epic snorers in the same room tonight. One of them wishes me luck before we put the lights out. Either way, I’ll be in for an early start as I think I’ll be doing a 30km day tomorrow.