change of plan

Apologies for the lack of blogging. I've had little internet access and we've had a change of plan owing to various problems. I will continue when I continue the walk at some point in the future. Signing off for now.
A wayfarer in Spain.

Chelva-Andilla a long slog

Compañero's feet still bad. We suspect an unusual allergic reaction to blister plasters. A taxi was appeared by the helpful hotel owner and I set off on my own at around 10:30 - far too late as the sun was already hot with no breeze, and the road hard and bright. 

The first section of the walk out of chelv was interesting enough. There were plenty of rocks and gorges to take the attention, and the pleasure of quickly gaining height and looking back on the town. After a while the route left the track and followed a path round a deep and relatively spectacular ravine. 

After that it was back on to forest tracks and a long steady climb up to around 900 metres and the small village of Alcotas, where I ate my cheese and tomato sandwich. I felt really tired and my feet were hurting. I've realized I have made a mistake with my footwear - I really need to get some lightweight summer boots that breathe at least a bit. 

After Alcotas there was more slogging uphill along a river bed in part which was interesting. 

Finally up to around 1075 Metres via a route that didn't seem to be part of the gr7 and then down through a wood where the signs magically reappeared. 

At about this point my water ran out. 

Luckily it was downhill from now past creaking windmills on to la Pobleta and Andilla. I arrived at precisely 7:00pm as estimated. 

A splendid meal in the old people's centre with far too much beer and wine.  And a revised plan for the rest of the trip given that my consenserista can walk no longer and my feet are pretty bad as well. 

Gorges and canyons - Benagéber to Chelva.

The pharmacy in Benagéber doesn't open on Wednesday. The barman kindly gave us some bandages and plaster and we attempted to fix up my chum's feet. But they were red and suppurating (I was going to put a picture of them on the blog but decided there's enough horror on the Internet already) and it was pretty obvious that he wouldn't be able to walk more than a few yards without breaking down altogether.

So I reluctantly made the decision to leave him to his fate, while I set out alone.
By this time the weather had cleared up and the walk through open forest country was fresh and invigorating.
Before long I had dropped down to a small or rather tiny village Barchel, where a man was sorting out firewood. I couldn't see any way into or out of the village apart from the track I'd come down. One of the men pointed out the continuation of the path, and immediately on taking it I was scrambling down a narrow path, over a tree trunk serving as a bridge over the stream

and under overhanging cliffs. The view out over the gorge was vertiginous, six hundred feet or more straight down with the sound of rushing water far below.
I crept down gingerly till I reached s road and the river turia. Crossed a suspension bridge and started climbing up the other side of the gorge.

After the climb a longish slog along forestry tracks to the outskirts of chelva. Another tremendous gorge with a restored Roman bridge,

past orchards bordered by agave plants, a conversation with a shepherd and then up to Chelva through old streets with the sound of running water underneath.

My friend meanwhile had taken a free bus from Benageber to Tejuar which agreed to take him on to Chelva. His suppurating heels were fixed up for free at the local health centre!
Down through town after a rest for beer and  hopeful tapas. No tapas but unusual church facade. 

To bar Angelines where atletico were playing real Madrid.
Pinchos morunos, patatas bravas, croquetas and ill-advised embutidos for supper washed down with beer. What could be better? We'll see how the heels are tomorrow.

Rain and blisters

It's raining. Low clouds are swirling through the village. We're sitting waiting for it to stop and for the pharmacy to open. My compañero's feet are badly blistered on the heel so we need urgent medical attention if we're going to get to the next village of Chelva. Not so far (16 km) but down and up a depth through a gorge. We need to be in tip top condition. 

Caminos forestales

Up with a tardy lark this morning after a good night's sleep in a tiny room. Breakfast at the now open bar down below the house. Two coffees and a pan tostada con tomate. They also made up two bocadillos for us so that we didn't have to survive on trail mix. 

Beautiful ascent out of Chera,

 with great views back across the way we'd come the night before. Once round the corner and over the pass though the road became an unending tramp through pine forest along the gravel road. We came to a crossroads with signs illustrating the difficulties you face if you don't have a good map. 

Signs pointing in all directions. 

So a bit boring until we started coming down into the plain above benagéber when the scenery changed to fields surrounded by dramatic limestone cliffs. 

We're now in a beautiful apartment (el cambrillo) with all mod cons next to the bar, where we will be shortly. 

2015 Requena-Utiel to Chera

Taking the AVE train from Valencia to the station at Requena Is a strange experience, like taking an aeroplane. Your have to put your luggage through a scanner, and then charming flight attendants await at the carriage doors to usher you to your seat. Not exactly like Ryanair then.  The Train slices through the countryside at 160mph - so fast that the 80 miles between Valencia and Requena are covered in twenty minutes or so.

I'm on my walking trip again, from the south of Spain to the Pyrenees. This time I have an old friend with me to provide intellectual conversation as we walk. We plan to talk of Wittgenstein and Kant. 

Another, Valencian, friend has brought us from Alicante to Valencia and we've had an evening meal with him and a friend of his, kindly paid for us. 

 The AVE station at Requena is surreal. - a concrete wonder  in the middle of miles of field of vines with one station official and five shuttered shops. Clearly they thought it would be a lovely palace, but it's a lovely white elephant at the moment. 

There were no taxis to be had at the station so we had to start our walk there and then rather than in the approach to the hills as I had planned. This meant a long slog through fields to add to the 24 kms originally envisaged. After three hours walking we did start to go up and arrived at "el Corral de Paula", a deserted farm in the hills overlooking the vines of Requena.

  We carried on walking up a narrows path through rosemary and thyme bushes till we arrived at a fence across the way with an armed response security sign fixed to a tree next to it. No way to retreat so we climbed over the 8ft fence with some difficulty and carried on feeling annoyed that Spanish landowners think it's ok to block off an official route. It's even on the ign maps now! Later on we saw herds of deer so I guess the fence is designed to prevent these escaping rather than humans entering. 

We began to worry about our ability to complete today's walk. The five extra miles at the start were telling on our unpractised bodies, and the rucksacks which we'd taken so much care to pack lightly weighed heavily on our backs. 

We also had very little to eat as we'd balked at the idea of paying €8.60 for a bocadillo at Valencia train station. oh well  what the hell archie its cheerio my deerio that pulls a lady through. 

On to a tiny village called el Reatillo where we phoned out ahead to confirm our accommodation in Chera and then a deviation from the gr 7 on to a local path, which followed a river through a gorge and involved some exciting rope work. 

Over the wire rope bridge. 

Straightforward after that and we got to Chera at about 8:00pm. Our kind hosts met us at the door of Casa Montesinos (we're the only residents) and left us to it. 

A simple but tasty meal in bar avenida and we were in bed and asleep by 10:30