It dawned a perfect morning X- that very nasty one mile climb right from the door of the albergue. My left heel was protesting such intense activity so soon in the day so I made sure to take lots of photo stops. The day was clear and looking back over A Mesa the mountains I climbed in the dense mist were totally clear today. Figures…

The road topped out onto a nice level section; I was heralded by a cacophony of bells as a herd of cows chomped their breakfast.

My heel pain didn’t ease with the change in gradient, a bad omen. Why did I have to develop a new injury, haven’t I enough old ones already?

The next valley was totally obscured by thick fog. Somewhere below is a lake and a dam but it’s totally hidden by a sea of white. Like the ocean it is moving in waves, steadily flowing north like an incoming tide. It’s mesmerizing to watch…

Continuing down I pass an information board that states that due to a forest fire in 2017 the Camino has been rerouted, only adding an additional 1.8 kms to the descent. Great. Luckily it’s on good logging roads so not obscenely steep.

Soon I enter the mist layer, feeling it’s chill a good 50m before it starts. Like the Dementors in Harry Potter, you feel them before they’re actually there. The mist is magical from above as it’s alive, swirling and oozing; but eerie within, mystical but also soul-sucking and after a while you yearn to break free.

Unlike yesterday, the mist only covered the middle third of the mountain so I eventually descended through and could spot the water below through the burnt skeletons of baby pines.

At 7 kms when the downhill finally turned to uphill my Achilles decided that was enough and went on strike. Fortunately there’s civilization a few kms more – a hotel by the dam, so I’ll limp there and regroup.

I made it as far as the dam, limping more and more, and when faced with 6 more kms of all uphill walking to the albergue in Grandas I called it quits. I stuck my thumb out and hitched a ride the rest of the way.

Let off at the edge of town, I stopped at the first bar (as I do) and dithered over a coffee on what to do. My problems are slightly magnified by there not being any public transportation in this town and my phone’s credit runs out tomorrow. Eventually I decided to stay here tonight in the albergue just up the road and figure out what to do tomorrow tomorrow.

A hippy-dippy French pilgrim saw me hobbling back from the grocery store and promised to give me something that would instantly cure me by morning. I thought he meant a menthol patch but his method was more organic… I did use a liberal dose of Voltaren gel too…