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I left Zafra without exploring this historic town because of the torrential rain. \u00a0Indeed I usually had a reason for not exploring historic towns. \u00a0However my stay in Zafra was prolonged by losing sight of the yellow arrows marking the Camino. \u00a0I ended up on the outskirts, soaking wet, faced with a defensive fence running along the railway line and no way across. \u00a0In the misty distance I made out a bridge and headed for it along an abandoned path. \u00a0Once across the bridge, I guessed my way and with sheer delight discovered a yellow arrow. \u00a0My spirits soared and I gave thanks for being back on my Camino which rose steeply over a ridge which separates Zafra from Los Santos de Maimones. \u00a0Genuine gratitude flowed from my relief. \u00a0I’m not sure whom I was grateful to, but that didn’t matter. Thanksgiving.<\/p>\n
![\"looking](\"http:\/\/www.the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/P1010492.jpg\")
<\/a>Looking down on Los Santos de Maimones in the rain.<\/p><\/div>\n
Once again, I had not met any other pilgrims. \u00a0When I had stayed in the village before Zafra they had all opted for the famous Convent Hostel in Zafra for the night and had several hours start on me. \u00a0I could see that they had passed where I was walking because the Camino after Los Santos was turning muddy. \u00a0Their footsteps had erased the few footholds that there might have been earlier on. This is La Tierra de Barros. \u00a0“Barro” is the Spanish for “clay”.<\/p>\n
With the rain, my rucksack had become heavier as I learned the limitations of wet-weather protective clothing and bag covers. \u00a0With every step I sank into the mud and risked slipping. \u00a0Often I skidded and only stayed upright thanks to my walking pole. \u00a0The path had no stones, just clay and puddles. \u00a0My sandals began to pick up clumps of clay on the soles and lifting my foot was difficult. \u00a0Every few steps I had to scrape huge chunks of mud off my sandals. \u00a0It was exhausting and I was making very slow progress so I sat down on a mojon – the cubic, metal sign posts which mark the Camino in Extremadura.<\/p>\n
![\"Mojon](\"http:\/\/www.the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/P1010525.jpg\")
<\/a>Mojon in the mud, a picnic stool.<\/p><\/div>\n
How good a bit of bread with an apple tasted!! \u00a0How good not to be skating in mud!!! What a relief I felt in my leg muscles! \u00a0Once again my spirits soared and I was full of gratitude for all the wonderful joys we have in this life. \u00a0Thanksgiving.<\/p>\n
The physical conditions did not improve much but I was managing better after this and arrived in good form in Villafranco de los Barros, a town in the middle of a huge plain covered in vineyards. \u00a0I was tired and wet and it was nightfall. \u00a0After a search I found the Hostel, which had no room being full with the pilgrims who had stayed in Zafra the night before. \u00a0 Nobody could suggest an alternative. \u00a0I had no desire to sleep out this night. \u00a0Then I asked in a bar and one person suggested that he knew someone who put up pilgrims. \u00a0This turned out to be a frail elderly woman in her dressing gown and slippers who asked me for 15 euros which she said included breakfast. \u00a0She pointed to a door in the first floor of her patio which must once have been pretty but was now decrepit with rainwater gushing \u00a0from above and below wherever I walked. \u00a0The door to the room didn’t shut leaving a good gap for rain to enter. \u00a0I lay on the bed elated to be horizontal. \u00a0The rain sounded a melody in my resting muscles. \u00a0I was so happy with this squeaky bed and the bare room, the shower with a drip of hot water. \u00a0My gratitude stayed with me as I left the next morning thanking the old woman for the room and saying, no, it didn’t matter at all that she had not prepared the promised breakfast. \u00a0More thanksgiving.<\/p>\n
I set off among the vineyards in a day without rain, finding the path offering parts without mud. Another little bit of thanksgiving was in order.<\/p>\n
![\"Flat](\"http:\/\/www.the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/P1010502.jpg\")
<\/a>Flat plain of vineyards in Tierra de Barros.<\/p><\/div>\n
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As I relaxed into a steady pace I began to notice a tightening in my calf muscles. \u00a0The Camino stretched ahead over the plain bypassing the important town of Almendralejo, heading for Merida, a VERY historic city with superb Roman remains. \u00a0My plan was to stop just before Merida. \u00a0My legs, though, were becoming more and more painful. \u00a0As an inexperienced walker, I did not know what was wrong. \u00a0They had worked well for a week and I wondered if this tightening of the muscles would halt my Camino. \u00a0The big muscles in my calf were solid and aching. \u00a0I\u00a0decided to divert to Almendralejo where I found a room in a Pension. It was as far as I could go. Having rested an hour, the pain in my legs was just as bad but I began to walk to the hospital for some advice. \u00a0At least I had shed my rucksack. People I asked directed me accurately but I didn’t ever seem to arrive. \u00a0I looked for taxis or buses but there were none. \u00a0Indeed, the hospital was four kilometres away and when I arrived I was hobbling in agony.<\/p>\n
Thanksgiving for the doctor who lay on the floor.<\/strong><\/h2>\nVery quickly I was seen by a doctor who explained that it is a common problem for Pilgrims who, gaining confidence after a week on the Camino, walk further and faster. He saw them regularly. \u00a0“What you need to do is this, “he said. \u00a0He then lay on the floor with his feet raised up, pressed against the wall. \u00a0He then wiggled them loosely, the feet staying firmly in place: the movement sending ripples through his calf muscles. \u00a0The position was quite undignified. \u00a0We both laughed and he told me to take a hospital bus back to town and practice the “ripple”. This man would have been enough, I imagine, to cure me, without any advice or demonstration on the floor. \u00a0Without knowing if the exercise would work, I was filled, once again, with gratitude. \u00a0I was grateful to this doctor and felt complicit with him in the joy of just being who we are. \u00a0And I was grateful in a bigger less precise way. (Grateful to whom?).<\/p>\n
But the advice was excellent (it works and is preventative,too) and many times since this, I have been grateful to this doctor. \u00a0The next day my legs were much better and I walked more slowly and a shorter distance. \u00a0Bliss!! I felt very grateful to this doctor.<\/p>\n
![\"Undulating](\"http:\/\/www.the-raft-of-corks.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/barros.jpg\")
<\/a>Undulating – harmony and gratitude in face of difficulties.<\/p><\/div>\n
My mother-in-law’s thanksgiving<\/strong><\/h2>\nAs the route became more undulating and the little Sierra Grande came into view, the sun came out. \u00a0In my well-being I thought of the past two days and recalled a visit from my mother-in-law many years ago. \u00a0We lived in Hartlepool and she in Coventry. \u00a0Although over 70 the desire to see her grandchildren led her to take a bus to visit them in mid-winter. \u00a0Changing buses in Leeds she slipped in the ice. \u00a0When I picked her up in Darlington in the dark she was in obvious pain, with her wrist swollen. \u00a0As soon as I got her home, I gave her a cup of tea and a glass of sherry. \u00a0She said she felt better but she seemed very white. \u00a0My wife agreed she should have her wrist examined, so I drove her off to A&E where they diagnosed a broken wrist and decided to operate at once. \u00a0But it was not possible because of the sherry. \u00a0Margaret did not once complain as she was told to come back for re-setting and pinning at 9am the next day.<\/p>\n
What I recalled above all was that en route to the hospital the next morning, the sun came out. \u00a0Margaret immediately said, “Glory be to God. \u00a0Now isn’t that bit of sunshine just a gift!” \u00a0At the time I wondered how, in her circumstances, she could be grateful or joyful about anything. \u00a0Now, at last, I understood. \u00a0We can be grateful even in awful circumstances. Thanksgiving is within us like a breath waiting to be relesed. \u00a0That began my prayers of thanksgiving while walking \u00a0– \u00a0but that is another post.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Thanksgiving: Genuine Gratitude in Awful Times. The Land of Mud Having spent two nights in the luxury of the Hostels in Fuente de Cantos and Pueblo de Sancho Perez, I lost all sense of comfort very rapidly as I set … Continue reading
<\/a>Undulating – harmony and gratitude in face of difficulties.<\/p><\/div>\n