![\"The](\"http:\/\/www.the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/09\/mojon.jpg\")
<\/a>The elegant marker for the Camino in the Sierra Norte Park.<\/p><\/div>\n
My spirits were high in spite of the day being damp and I slowly absorbed the silence, the company of the trees and the witness of the boulders. I sat down near some black pigs who were snorting acorns (sp. bellota). <\/em>These pigs who eat mainly bellota have very low cholesterol fat, so the marketing says. \u00a0Certainly the dried hams of these\u00a0pata negra<\/em> pigs are wonderfully rich: a single small slice of such jamon has a resounding aroma and resonating effect on the tounge, lifting the spirits of the traveller. \u00a0The pilgrim is offered just such a taste in every village in this part of the Camino between Seville and Extremadura with the firmly acclaimed certitude that\u00a0this\u00a0<\/strong>is the world’s finest Iberica de Bellota.<\/p>\n Black pigs, the source of Bellota Iberica, grazing in the Sierra Norte de Sevilla.<\/p><\/div>\n Still adjusting to distances and times, and having had my divine instruction to simply enjoy the Camino, I found myself near nightfall a good few kilometres from Almaden and facing a very steep climb over the ridge, called “Calvary” which separated this part of the Sierra from its gentler border with Extremadura.<\/p>\n Just before nightfall in the Sierra Norte<\/p><\/div>\n Once again I laid out my sleeping mat beside the Camino. \u00a0Just after dark, cosily drugged by the pleasantness of lying down in my sleeping bag, I was visited by wild boar. \u00a0I know that the wild animals in Spain are harmless if they are not disturbed (apart from the bulls and vipers), but letting this sink in, with the grunts and noisy digging with their noses right next to my prostrate corpus required an act of faith this first night.<\/p>\n The following day I made the short trip to Almad\u00e9n, had a really good rest and on the fifth day of my Camino I set out for Extremadura via Real de La Jara<\/a>. \u00a0Until this day I had averaged just under 20 km per day. I arrived early at Real de la Jara and in top form after a Mass at mid-day I decided to carry on even though I knew there was no albergue or town before Monesterio, a good 20km further on.<\/p>\n Castillo de las Torres, guarding Extremadura<\/p><\/div>\n Two things happened: I began to develop blisters on both feet and the damp weather threatened to become a downpour. Walking became painful and I was concerned about my ability to continue. \u00a0I did not know what to do about blisters and if, in the end, they prevent walking. \u00a0I was not at all experienced as a walker, so this thought preoccupied me. \u00a0So, too did the darkening skies as I looked for somewhere to shelter for the night. \u00a0The Camino passed through a huge and green private finca with no abandoned barns or natural shelter.<\/p>\n Pigs on the Camino<\/p><\/div>\n There were pigs. \u00a0I became very tired and aware that a blister had burst. \u00a0My rucksack weighed about 14 kgs which now seemed to me to push right through my foot. \u00a0There is a degree of discomfort on the Camino which I was happy to accept, like sleeping on the ground or the normal rheumatic aches, but this alarmed me. \u00a0So far I had not spoken to any pilgrims because they were always ahead of me, and, moreover, there were few on this Camino in March. \u00a0Had I done so I would have been reassured since coping with blisters, and avoiding them, is basic knowledge on the Camino. \u00a0My ignorance added to my suffering.<\/p>\n The rain began in earnest as I neared civilization in the form of the motorway which co-incides with much of the Via de La Plata, but I was still five kilometres from Monesterio and had already walked an excessive 25 kms. \u00a0I could make out the Monastery of Tentudia<\/a>\u00a0at a moment when the rain eased.<\/p>\n Tentudia<\/p><\/div>\n With great relief I arrived at a campsite and begged a bit of shelter to sleep the night. \u00a0I was given the balcony of an empty cabin. \u00a0The heavens opened and I slept only slightly aware of the tremendous storm echoing round the hills, beating on the roof above and flashing light outside my sleeping bag.<\/p>\n The next morning all was clean and the air pure with a smell of gratitude from the parched earth. \u00a0The climb up to Monesterio was a mixture of joy and agony. \u00a0My left foot was sending a hot spear through itself from the ground with every step.<\/p>\n Fresh morning joy while walking in agony near Monesterio.<\/p><\/div>\n I presented myself at the local Health Centre where I was welcomed and treated with kindness and expertise. \u00a0I might well have been the only pilgrim ever to ask for help with a crippling blister by the attention and patience with which the staff attended to me. \u00a0Only when I went to the Chemists afterwards to buy a cream I had been recommended did I learn that pilgrims visit the Health centre with the same complaint daily. \u00a0I am awestruck by this ability to meet each person as a complete and valued individual. \u00a0Moreover the service is offered without charge, even for people from the USA.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Five nights after leaving Seville, I was still adjusting to walking a Camino. \u00a0On my second day, after sleeping in a field, I dawdled and even took a long siesta, arriving at my first ever albergue at 9 pm, in … Continue reading <\/a><\/a><\/a><\/a><\/a><\/a>