Walking the Lighthouse Way Day 4

 

Before we get started I just want to say that we're just back from Holyrood Parkrun and I managed to shave a little sliver off September's time, despite having at least 2 weeks of not running. I promised myself I would pace it, as last time I was having to slow down while running downhill. That's a terrible waste of gravity!

It is so good to be able to run again, it was nice to meet Emily who said hello before the start, and it was good to see Steve Crane and John Blair, who were running conservatively because they've been out the game for a while. I'm sorry I couldn't speak to either of you while running, but I just can't!!

So, looking at the photos, I think this was my favourite day of walking. Waking up and finding my feet were okay and had recovered (not completely, but the thing is they were useable) - gave me a burst of optimism. An unusual warm feeling that maybe things are going to be alright! Breakfast at the Laxe hotel was also good. It was a buffet with lots of good things and no interference from staff at all and as much coffee and juice as I wanted, which was a lot.

Outside the sun was out and the world was looking lovely.

An early red admiral came out to say Good Morning which is a good omen for the day.

Another day, another lighthouse. I asked this one how it was doing but it just looked at me with its solar panel eyes and kept its grey mouth shut.

This dog was called Bob. I had a chat with the owner in Spanish, and because he didn't pressure me I settled in and had the most proper conversation ever in Spanish. He asked about our agenda and I managed to tell him I didn't know, we were just following instructions from one day to the next and he got it! At this point I asked him what his dog was called and he told me it was Bob. I only realised later that I hadn't asked him his name. He said Bob liked Peter and he wanted to play - which was more than evident.

I loved these tartan snails.

I think this red flag means "don't swim". You don't have to tell me twice. Some of the beaches looked glorious but I never felt like stripping off and taking the plunge. I don't know what has happened to my swimmo-jo. Maybe I need a reason.

At the far end of that beach...or at some stage...there was a section that had been flagged up as being possibly difficult. It was going through boulders, and the On Foot Holiday people had provided an alternative path in case this was too challenging. I had been careful, careful, careful, cautious every step of the way but I really wanted to go the bolder boulder way! So I did. And it was fine. I didn't do any leaping from rock to rock but I didn't do any damage either. It was such a relief not to just drag along being totally lame every inch of the way. There's a place for that but sometimes I feel like Morty of Rick and Morty.

I missed the key photo but this guy caught a fish while I was watching and he saw me taking a photo and he waved and I gave him a thumbs up. The world felt like a friendly place. That's what control of the coffee pot can do.

It had felt like an easy day and we were chipper as we arrived in Arou.

As we arrived in Arou, (not yet being sure that was where we were) we met a walker we'd seen before. She was Spanish. I asked her where Arou was and she pointed at the board we were standing beside which said "Arou", and we all had a laugh. She was waiting for a taxi to take her back along the coast, but on our behalf, and unasked, she asked the taxi driver where Mari Carmen stayed, our lodgings for the night being called MariCarmen's House.The taxi driver phoned Mari Carmen and then told us to head along to the end of the board walk, about 5 minutes walk. We did this, and found her. She gave a friendly wave as we approached and then....

And then it was the strangest thing, but it was cold. The house was cold. Mari Carmen was friendly and gave us everything that she should give us, but somehow she lacked warmth. It was like she was depressed, and the house was depressed. 

In the place where we stayed there was an odd mismatch of styles and times. It feels so ungrateful to say anything about it here and it did at the time. I felt an odd split on the whole journey, because in my heart I was generally grateful for all the kindnesses we were shown, but the head has a different view. Peter and I whispered to each other about the room. We were both stone cold and I felt a bit paranoid, like I was being watched.

I think the likeliest explanation was that Mari Carmen's severe and controlling mother had died in our bed and was now keeping a watchful eye on anyone who stepped insdie the house.

Dinner was being served on the premises, so when the time came we went down to eat. This took place in a large, stone room, poorly lit, and with nobody else in it  except MC and someone in the kitchen who was having prolonged bouts of coughing. It sounded like a man.

MC gestured us to a table in the farthest corner, which had been set. There was a light over our table which made the rest of the place seem even darker. There was a large stone fireplace but no fire. We both kept our coats on. We ordered wine and tried to strike up a conversation within our small realm of light but really it was like we were pushing against a force-field of silence and disconnection.

The food was really good and I said so, and MC smiled, but only for a nano-second.

I started to think about how the pandemic had probably hit them hard. Maybe MC and her father, who was currently dying (in my imagination) in the kitchen, had invested the very last of their money on this business and then the lockdown came.

Maybe MC was the only daughter and she had given up her own life to come back and look after her ailing and controlling father.

Whatever it was there was a chilling atmosphere. We squeezed 2 glasses of red out of her - again - lovely, and if I'd had the courage I would have tried to buy another bottle to drink upstairs, but I didn't have the courage. Then we beat a retreat to our room under the disapproving gaze of unseen watchers.

Peter whispered to me on the stairs "Why do I feel really sad?" and I thought. "Oh! He has feelings!"

So here's a new Maxim. When life gives you weird, dress up weird and take funny pictures of yourself with your tablet.