La Bisbal to Sant Feliu – Finally the Tables are starting to turn! (Thanks Tracy)

We’ve broken this walk’s back today. And thoroughly enjoyed most of it, with the exception of the last 5kms. Decent breakfast, our signature two fried eggs, bread, coffee with milk and freshly squeezed orange juice. Can’t beat it! Well, I suppose you can beat two eggs. But not the rest.

Another beautiful day, clear and crisp, with Christmas decorations resistant to being dismantled.

We were soon out in the country with a good pace into the mountains. There is an enormous sense of freedom when you’re trekking. You’re tied to a rucksack with all your worldly goods in it, you’re usually tied to the route as well but the freedom is in your face. In your lungs. In the aching muscles in your legs. In the magnificent views.

The pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago in north west Spain greet each other with the word Ultreia! It is the perfect Latin summary of the spirit of trekking, even though I don’t feel particularly drawn to the Camino. It means Let’s keep going! Let’s go beyond! There is always another horizon! And there is, whether you look at it in Spain, Scotland, England, France or Nepal, there always is, until you are too old to reach the next one. Then you die. Brilliant!

We made it finally to the top of the mountains through forest and up to the highest point of the journey so far. Just under 2,000 feet, the same height as Kinder Scout. Taking a detour to the absolute summit we were treated to a magnificent Dolmen. This burial structure was erected by local lads over 5,000 years ago. Incredible.

Then we came across the view of the trip, a 360 degree panorama from the top of a wooden viewing platform by the side of an unmanned meteorological tower. Just wow! We rarely see people throughout the day, and this was no exception.

By the side of the viewing platform was a weird shrine, with almost pagan clay images of people and children. We had seen similar memorials on the way up. Very odd.

The track dropped down and back up but mostly down. Our feet are wrapped in three layers of blister plaster but we bravely strutted on! Well, with a whimper and some old mens’ noises every now and then.

One of these photos is an intelligent being and one is an ass. Answers on a postcard to……….

And this is a carved representation of Gary first thing in a morning.

The poor lad’s taking a bit of stick but that’s what Leeds fans are for.

Some graffiti is good, but it is very much the exception!

And as daylight faded the boys beat a retreat to Sant Feliu de Guixolls. To a decent hotel owned by a Uruguayan female ocean rower and a tubby spouse born in Italy, brought up in Croydon and rooted in Catalonia.

Round the corner was a tapas bar with the most amazing selection of scran. A perfect end to a perfect day.

Night night.