Dinner last night was a communal meal in the Albergue accompanied by the local Ribera wine. A broken night of sleep due to the second night in a row with the world’s loudest snorer and the good folk of Castrojeriz partying throughout the night resulted in me ‘sleeping late!’ I didn’t wake up until 5.15am. I was on my way before 6am, battling with a glitchy Garmin that refused to turn itself on (or off).
It was a steep climb out of Castrojeriz - the roadsign helpfully informed me it was a 15% slope. I was glad not to be able to see too far ahead. This was followed by an 18% downhill. I was glad of my walking poles. It was chilly - but not as cold as yesterday. My plan had been to grab breakfast at the first town I’d pass through- about 12km - but when I got there just after 8am nothing was open, so on I went - grateful for the mandarin orange I’d picked up at a supermarket 
The meseta is beautiful. Huge, expansive landscapes with massive skies. I had brief chats with various people as we passed each other, catching up with familiar faces now and then. There was a stretch alongside a canal - which brought back memories of canal side runs with Husbando and friends at home. The weather had improved, it was sunny but not too warm, the waterproof and long sleeved top came off. I didn’t bother to dig out my sunglasses as I was walking west so away from the sun.
As I walked in to Fromista I was madly checking availability at the albergues. I had booked the only one that had been available but had heard on the Camino grapevine that it was ‘the worst place I have ever stayed,’ that the owner was ‘grumpy and unhelpful,’ the mixed showers were ‘scummy’ and that people had woken up covered in bites. A closer look at the reviews revealed several recent reports of bed bugs. I did not want bed bugs! Sadly Fromista is a popular end of stage town and this, combined with one of the albergues having closed down altogether means that places are limited. I considered going on to the next town but I had arranged for my bag to arrive in Fromista. The logistics of waiting for my bag, then carrying everything to the next town and hoping for a bed there did not appeal. I walked into the first hotel I saw and asked for a room! At the very least I won’t be sharing with the snorer tonight!
Tomorrow is a short stage. Just 19km. Unusually the next town after that is a further 17km along. I am reasonably confident that my leg is on the mend, but feel it would be stupid to try a 36km day at this stage.
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