GR11 Day 5 No More Olives
Hunters cabin below the Collado de Urballo - first piece of flat ground near a stream 2 hrs from Burguete.
The mist is back so our plan for an early start for 6 am was postponed due to drizzle and inability to get out of our toasty sleeping bags.
When we eventually got going it was well misty, there were shadows of things that would appear and then disappear. Wooden shooting towers appeared out of the mist like aliens from war of the worlds. At some point we passed the border stone that marked the boarder with France, the weather on that side was just as bad. At one point I did think we had slipped into France by accident as everyone was saying bonjour instead of hola. Jac assured me we hadn't, and it was just the French being well French.
Once we got above the clouds the views and the sun were indeed stupendous, with rolling carpets of green hills being munched on by clusters of basque ponies, there were fabulous cloud inversions everywhere we looked with the tops of peaks appearing like little floating islands.
Lunch was spent drying the tent out and munching on the many olives and tomatoes, I had insisted we bought, Jac is refusing to eat these on principle that they are too heavy and poor calorific value for the weight. So therefore It's my own fault my bag is heavy and I can jolly well eat them myself (or words to that effect).
We spotted a huge vulture sat on the rock above us, he also wasn't interested in the olives, but I'm sure he was working out the likely hood of us keeling over from carrying excessive weight.
John and Doug have turned up again, they managed to get gas for their cooker but seemed to have forgotten to buy enough food to eat, we left them at the roadside with a bag of our pasta, whilst they tried to negotiate a lift to anywhere that would let them stay the night and feed them.
A killer of a descent through the forest had Jac do a spectacular slip where even she was surprised at how far her leg could go back, we eventually stopped at the first flat spot we could find next to the river, where we fell asleep in the sun and mustered the energy to sit with our feet in the stream.
What I have learnt:
Everything hurts, and I mean everything, things hurt even before they hurt, the anticipation of the pain is enough.
We are walking like 80 year olds, in fact Jac is dragging her leg like an 80 year old Richard the 3rd and I am lurch.
Olives and tomatoes are heavy, they are also never ending I'm sure Jac is secretly topping them up behind my back just to teach me a lesson.