My mom and I ate the best, freshest croissants on earth. Nothing gets better than that.
At a store in Puente de Reina, we bought fresh rolls, local cheese, avocado, and a ripe tomato for our lunch. We sat outside an ancient church in a hilltop village to enjoy our fresh sandwiches. It was the perfect afternoon.
The next highlight was Agora Hostel. After sleeping terribly in so many hostels, my mom decided that a bunk room of four was the most she could handle. She's a light sleeper and it's horrible to walk many miles on a poor night of sleep, so I totally understand. After walking around for an hour trying to find a clean, double room, we had no success. Exhausted, we ended up at Agora Hostel and reluctantly took two beds in a room of eight. This ended up being the best decision we made all day. The hostel was built that year and was impeccable. The family running the hostel was incredibly hospitable and accommodating. It turned out that no other hikers joined the hostel that night, meaning my mom and I got our private room! Everything is better when my mom gets a good rest!
There was nowhere to get breakfast in Urtega so we had to walk for three miles before we reached the next village where we could buy food. We tried vending machine coffee and I nearly vomited. I swear they put goat cheese in everything.
We were the last people to leave our hostel at 7:30am, which basically meant everyone knew it'd be a hot day and planned accordingly. This would be the first day that the heat was seriously an issue. By the end of the day I had bulging blisters on the back of my calves. I also had a horrible attitude to accompany my raging sunburn. The last few miles were tough for both of us. We were able to buy some after sun lotion at the pharmacy and I was super thankful!
A Trace of Grace
Notes from a trekking mama
Make friends! We met a lot of lovely people along the way so far and were able to share dinner with them at an albergue. Sharing stories with people from Canada, England, Portugal, and France, and laughing about how in Spain, sometimes "chicken" ends up being beef stew.