Yesterday caught up with us. More specifically, yesterday caught up with Cz´s legs. We creaked along for 6.5 Km, and then decided that it would be best to spend the day holed up in a "Casa Ruales". These are usually private homes that dot the countryside and pepper small villages. They let out the extra bedrooms, and offer a place to sleep, breakfast, and if you are really lucky (as we were) a full bathtub for soaking...
which Cz did. And lay on the big bed - a proper step up from the bunks at the refugio.
The Casa was owned (I think) By three ladies. The Oldest (maybe the mother of one) spoke no english, but fussed of gimpy Cz like a Bantam hen. The tall one with dark hair spoke a few words of English, but I believe French was her first language. I´m not sure if she was one of the owners or a guest pulled into service as a translator. The most official lady - the one who took our money and our breakfast reservation - also fussed and clucked over Cz a made sure we had the best room, and were well settled before I believe check-in was officially supposed to start. (Both the Older woman and the Dark-haired one were still in housecoats, and the official lady wa cleaning the bathroom when we arrived). Of course we forgot to ask their names.
I puttered around the village - being Sunday everything was closed - and puttered a little way up the Camino. It was a good thing we had stopped where we did, as the day turned cold and cloudy, and the trail curled up into the rolling hills of the foothills on the Spanish side.
After the day of rest and soaking, Cz´s legs much improved, and we hold high hopes of covering good ground tomorrow.
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