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Lady Madonna – Villabona to Morella (second blog today)

I slept well. Breakfast was lovely and I was sorry to leave (again). The room and breakfast was 25 quid. We could sell the house and live here and let Therese do the washing, cooking and stuff. And we’d be relaxed for three weeks before we wanted more. There is more. A lot more and it’s just over that next hill. Ultreia.

With the Blades success my inverted cross had turned into a sword. I’m so happy.

Today was a simple up valley and down dale 13 mile hike to Morella. This is my route for the next few days. Tomorrow is a long slog of a stretch from Moralla to Benasal. I’ll enjoy the rest today and sweat it out tomorrow.

I’m a day behind on my original mind’s eye schedule. It’s Santa Semana week in Spain and places are filling up whilst services reduce for Easter. Bejis, where I’m heading, is a long way from Alicante, where I’m flying back from next Sunday morning. To get from Bejis to the airport last time, in January, took a hike, a thumbed lift, a bus, a train and a bus. I just need to find out what’s working or not on Easter Saturday and Sunday. I’d thought of roadwalking from here to Bejis as I could hammer it in 4 days, rather than the GR7. But the GR7 footpath is so beautiful I don’t care if I fall short and have to come back again to finish it off.

Looking back was looking good.

Not far out of the village, on the footpath, was a shrine to a Madonna (being an obsolete term for an Italian lady), Santa Agueda. I love this devotion by people. It’s peaceful, graceful and uplifting. I just can’t share in the organised bit.

The route rose up and I was beginning to get quite hot in this narrowing valley.

My modus operandus is that I put sun tan oil on my head first and then later on when it’s deadly sun I put on a cap with a flap round the back, like the French Foreign Legion. Nutters they were. BBC would do em though.

As the path wound up towards the top of the valley it dropped down to the floor. With running water!

Climbing up the side again a sign said I couldn’t pick Cepes there or any other fungi without permission. I love Cepes. Maggie isn’t as keen but I love em. Cook in olive oil, butter, garlic and parsley. If I found some I’d pick em. If the signwriter was so bothered how come he’s not here? Idiot.

Up and away the view back down the valley was great.

And eventually I got to a point where I could see over the top of the valley to the right, to the northeast where there was a plateau in the hills.

Finally the track climbed over the top of the pass and the view back down the valley I’d walked up was lush.

Looking forward Morella stood out a mile.

It was a long route down, but a pretty one. It was striking that Morella seemed to be in the last mountainous area before the huge Spanish plain just a bit further inland. Anyway I was cutting south tomorrow to stay in the highlands, in ma kilt!

Suddenly Morella was there in front of me and it is impressive.

Walking round my impressions are that it’s a bit too touristy, a bit too international and oversure of itself. Beautiful place but give me small and Spanish. Beautiful though.