24 April to Sansol

A short day called for some imaginative blogging, so I decided to turn Strava on and every time Mrs Strava announced I had gone another kilometre I took a photo or two of wherever I was. I thought it seemed fair to show not only the beautiful vistas from the top of each hill, but the less than pretty too.

At 650m I saw this reasonably ugly view and snapped a pic even though it was not yet 1km:

Later an Australian couple would catch me up and fall in step to chat. We were still together when Mrs Strava made the next announcement so I explained what I was doing. They admitted they had wondered what on earth I was doing photographing the power station! Now it made sense.

1km:

2km:

3km:

4km:

Just because…

5km:

6km:

And just around the bend

6.8km:

And I have arrived in Sansol

There are some touches of beauty…

I have the whole day stretching ahead of me. I had hoped the bar would be a place I could sit and write and blog out of the cold (7 degrees), and it is….kind of….

I sit in this spot mostly protected from the wind, being warmed by the sun, getting occasional whiffs from the Estrella empties, drinking a cola cao, and eventually eating my lunch purchased in the teeny tiny tienda

A young guy rides up on a motorbike….

…balancing a great portion of tree trunk between his legs. A friend helps him carry it to the shelter where I am sitting and he starts chopping.

Vídeo woodchopping

After an hour or so I am quite curious and ask him what he’s up to. He’s making a cube with a hole to store his ax in. He happily lets me photograph his ax, which to me seems an interesting tool to be trying to make a straight-sided object with.

Another hour later I buy him a Kas Naranja and he is both surprised and grateful.

A final hour of chipping away and he packs up for now. He comes over to say goodbye and explains he lives in the village. I ask when he will finish. Not today!

Finally I take a gamble on the Albergue being open. It is so different to last night!

The hospitalero was kind and attentive, urging me to shower and do washing immediately. He would take money later – and even then will take only half what last night’s lady took! I was the only person who signed up for the communal dinner, so understandably he didn’t cook for one. He suggested I patronise the local bar “because it is sad to eat alone”. Given that he was at the bar having a coffee when I arrived, I felt compelled to NOT take a table by myself and so had a fascinating couple of hours with Sup from South Korea, who at 23 has just finished his 21 months of compulsory military service in the Air Force. He was probably as surprised as my family will be to hear I know what to say at a Korean drinking game!! Geonbae! Saying kom-be is close enough for a Korean to know what you are on about.

And with that, I should hit PUBLISH and climb into my sleeping bag.