Bill Arney

We (Frederikka, a Dane, and Ramon, Spanish architect living in London) started our climb into the mountains in just the weather guidebooks warn against, hill fog. But everyone assured us it would be fine.  And we were following the one agreed-upon stipulation: don’t go up there alone.  We walked up into the fog and then through it, and then we saw the sun through the fog, and soon the sun cut the fog and we were in a new world. All day up, across and down the Hospitales route, with the ruins of earlier pilgrim hospitals sprinkled over the top of the mountain.  The promised wild horses were there.  And it was wonderful.  Frederikka spilled most of her water early in the trek, so we conserved. Near what we thought was the end of the downhill we were all out of water, but there was water dripping down plants from the mountain so we filled our bottles,  slowly, from the drips. Sated with water, we started walking again.  Five minutes later we were in a bar in the town that was just around the corner, unseen, from our hydration station.  In the albergue in Berducedo for tonight.