3. Moixent

It is just after midday and am sitting under a tree in the little town of Vallada enjoying a refreshing cerveza and a bocadillo. The friendly waiter has come out with a book for me to sign because I am a pilgrim. I think every pilgrim on this route stops here as it is the first bar for 14 kms. I signed the book and counted the number of pelerins who have signed in this year. I was number 47 and one of three Australians. My French and Italian companions yet to arrive will take the total to 50. Just ahead of me are a number of others, including an 82 year old man and a 72 year old woman from Belgium. That’s impressive! So, this quiet route is clearly being better frequented - maybe 150 pilgrims or more will walk it this year. Perhaps, not unexpectedly the bulk of those in the book were over 60, in fact, I am one of the younger ones this year (just a kid with a dream!). Whatever. Sitting here resting after walking 20 kms is sweet. Here’s a few shots from the morning.

Tunnel art.

A hillside town.

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Ahh, there’s Primo. We lost him last night. It’s Primo I am waiting for here under the tree.

I waited for an hour and a half. J-P and D have come in but no Primo.

Three hours later...

I’m sitting in the Main Street of Moixent waiting for my French companions to arrive. We will then go in search of the police station and someone to give us a key for the albergue which is 2 kms out of town. There is a big party of Spanish people celebration beside me, including a man and a woman dancing in the street with a giant cutlass type knife. I think I am entering a wilder part of Spain.

Suddenly there is a call from the man walking past me. He points in the direction of Jean-Pierre and Danielle who have walked past without either of us noticing each other. There is one grace. I grab my gear and we wander down to the police station which is closed (it is Saturday afternoon and it’s unusual to find anything open at this time except for bars). We are sitting there pondering our next move when out of the door next to the police station pops Primo. How did he get here? Not only is her here, but he has a key to the pool ice albergue which is right next to the police station where we are standing and has four beds!! What’s more, it is a donativo. The one we were to stay in which we had to walk extra to get to was going to cost 20 euro. So, in a moment we have accommodation sorted. Perfecto!! These are the moments on pilgrimage that I love - the moments when it all comes together.

The other good thing is that I can communicate a bit with J-P and D because they can speak English and they can communicate with Primo because he can speak French. And he can communicate with the locals because he can speak Spanish. I am feeling very blessed right at this moment. How much harder would it have been for me without these synergies.

A couple of other shots from the day.

That’s Moixent in the distance.

Thanks everyone who has been in touch. Muchas gracias. Neil