I have just walked past the four hundred kilometer point. From here on in, every step is closer to Santiago than to St Jean.
The scenery has been very different on this stage, the dreaded “Meseta”. Long days of flat landscape, often with no shade or deviation. Tiny towns with declining populations. For the first few days, I wondered what all the fuss was about. I loved this area. Easy, flat walks, sunny days…
And then I got my arse kicked. This was no longer so much fun. There is dust everywhere. My feet are killing me. My shoes are dying, I never want to see another tortilla and I’m plain, old tired and cranky.