Walking the Lighthouse Way - Day 1

 Day 1 Malpica to Ninons Beach

"At last", I hear you say, "Some walking." I know. We had put on a couple of pounds already and were both a bit hungover for this first day of walking. We crept into the hotel breakfast room where everything was incomprehensible. There were Americans already there, and some other people, and us. There were an odd, apparently unrelated assortment of food-stuffs on our table. A plate with ham and chorizo. A plate with cheese. A plate of jam and butter, and some bread that was nice but had a brutal crust on it. We just ate everything in any order. I still don't know if there's a right way to approach all this. We got there - it was only breakfast - and finally we were on our way.

"So how was your ankle?" I hear you ask. Well, it was okay, but I just had to keep it in mind all the time - which is kind of tiring. Having belatedly realised that there would be no rest days and that I  had to be able to walk a good distance every day, I just didn't take any chances. This made me slow on the downhills if the ground was at all tricky - and it often was, stony and rooty. The stone seemed primarily to be granite, which was very positive except when it had been wet for a while.

Remembering about the pilgrims and the lighthouses and the questions, I told Peter that I thought we should ask a series of questions - one for each lighthouse, and see if we got an answer. We both chewed on this for a while. He asked me what mine was and it was something a bit long-winded - I'd been feeling like I wanted to do something a bit creative but didn't know just what in particular. I asked the lighthouse (smirk) if it had any ideas about this. Peter wanted to know which new lens to buy for his camera. I don't think either of us got an answer but it's hard to know.

If the lighthouses were reluctant to provide answers to our questions, our totem animals were much more in evidence. Throughout the journey we were regularly visited by Stonechats and Robins and Speckled Wood butterflies. We also got a fairly regular dose of Clouded Yellows - very difficult to focus on - and we had at least two close encounters with Swallow-tails - which are surreal when you see them, and a nightmare to photograph.

About 8 or10 miles in, we passed the place we'd be staying that night. The day's route continued onto a lighthouse and then to Ninons beach. OUr instructions were to phone local taxi driver Ivan as we arrived at the lighthouse, and he would pick us up from Ninon's beach in an hour.

It's becoming clear to me that I don't really care about lighthouses. I'm sure I would if I was a sailor. Although the lighthouse we came to that day was quite spectacular, I don't know what it was called, and I don't know where it was. I don't even think it really answered questions, although I do think if you ask yourself a question and go for a walk there's a fair chance of a good answer bubbling up.

We mucked about when we reached the lighthouse, taking pictures and emptying shoes, and for this reason we were ten minutes late for Ivan at his taxi. The universe tortured Peter for this by several Clouded Yellows sailing into view just as we were finishing the stretch - but we couldn't possibly stop and take pictures. Ivan was already there and watching us so he had to march manfully past them and on to the taxi back to Bariza.

The day had gone well and it was fun exploring a new room. We settled into a rhythm of getting a shower and charging up phones and tablets and Garmins.

We were to eat in the same place we were staying. From our journey back there in the taxi it seemed like Bariza really only consisted of a few houses, so there weren't any choices. Looking at the menu it looked like all the dishes were really expensive which put PB into full rebellion. Our orders were being taken by a large man with emotional eyes who looked like he might lose it quite easily too.

The clue we'd missed (as had the Germans in the room) was that the prices we were looking at were "para compartir" - to share - and so it wasn't cheap but neither was it criminally expensive. By the time we fully understood this we'd ordered a meal entirely consisting of entradas - which was actually pretty good. We had 4 or 5 croquetas - each of them a different flavour and all delicious (including a black one which we later figured out was probably squid ink) - and a humphing great salad and bread. Then a glass of wine or two sealed the deal. By the time we went to bed we were happy again. It might be more complicated than that but I'm running out of steam.

The hotel was right by the sea and so we left the windows wide open so we could hear the boom of the Atlantic hitting the shore all night.