A “Rest” Day and a Big Oops!
A “Rest” Day and a Big Oops!
90.75 miles hiked, 3 Cultural Events Attended
Since we've been hiking every day since we got to Spain, Pam suggested that we take a rest day today. It was supposed to get up into the 90's, we really had to do some laundry, and I haven't been getting a lot of sleep, so I decided it was probably a good suggestion. The problem was that my idea of a rest day and Pam's ideas of a rest day aren't quite the same.
Pam envisioned getting up relatively late (9-ish), going down to a casual, relaxed breakfast, taking a stroll through the village and maybe doing a little window shopping, having some wine and tapas around 1 or 2, reading for a few hours before heading to the laundromat, enjoying another wonderful Spanish dinner at one of the local restaurants, and getting to bed before 11.
I, on the other hand, thought that, since we only did a four-hour, seven-mile hike with 1,512 feet of elevation gain today, THAT was a rest day. You'd think that, after almost 35 years of marriage, we'd be on the same page about this. I have no idea how I convinced Pam to trade relaxation for up. Something tells me there’s going to be a quid pro quo in my future.
We had asked Alberto for some hikes local to Ainsa, and he suggested two. His first suggestion was Congosto de Entremón, a short path, for us, that follows the Río Cinca below the El Grado damn, that creates the lake in from of the new part of Ainsa.
The hike itself wasn’t hard, and it even had a few carved out sections reminiscent of the Mont Rebei hike from a few days ago where the trail is carved out of the side of the mountain and you have the wire strung to hold onto.
If you’ve been following along our journey, you might have noticed, like in the picture above, the water is green/blue in many of the photos. Regular mountain streams are crystal clear, but the water in dam areas has the funny color. Having a little time before dinner, I started to dig in for research. The first hit on my internet search, explained everything. It’s all down to the “…increased growth of algae cyanobacteria and sometimes dinoflagellates, the blue-green algae that turn many lakes green.” See the linked article for a full explanation about the problem.
This is yet another issue in modern Spain we can blame on the dictator Franco. This is my analysis, not the science article’s, just to be clear. After the Spanish Civil War, Franco and his cronies, only cared about the cities and turned to hydroelectricity for power. They never saw a stream they couldn’t dam (damn them!). So, if you visit Pyrenees area of Spain, you’ll see that blue/green color in all the valley rivers. In fact, the only mountain river not dammed/damned is the Río Arazas, we hiked along yesterday.
Before the last little downhill back to the car, we heard faint human whistling, but were not sure why. We turned a corner and saw a huge flock of sheep being herded from a field down to the river. To see that dog-human connection solving a problem is one of my joys in life. When we used to live on Vashon Island, WA, the sheep dog trials held every September were a must see. In those, they only herded three or four sheep. Watching a master herd 200+ sheep today was so special.
Back at the car I looked up the next trailhead, Samitier Castillos, was only a mile away, as the crow flies. Dotted around hill tops in Sobrarbe, the area of Aragon we are in, are a series of castillos, or defensive positions. Under the reigns of Sancho Garcés III and Ramiro I, between 1035-1055, the kingdom of Aragon was the front lines of the battle between muslim Spain and christian Spain. These castillos were lookouts that would signal each other with smoke that the muslims were on the move. What’s awesome about these castillos is that they are not restored. There’s something about seeing something that old but not “gussied up” that makes you feel the length of time.
There’s a restored church in front of the castillo, but it is decidedly ho-hum. It was restored in 1996-1997 and it would have been much more interesting if it had been left alone. I guess if you are religious, it’s nice but if it wasn’t next to the castillo, I wouldn’t even mention it.
On the right side of the castillo in the picture above, was an entrance. However, the two steps to it were, to my afraid of heights brain, such small holds that even Alex Honhold would have said, “Nah,” so I apologize to you dear readers for not making it in.
If you paid attention to the caption in the first picture, the big cliff you are looking at is where the castillo is, but we were too low to see it. In the picture below, two steps from it.
The first walk started to the left of the bridge above, and if you look closely near the river, you can see the trail. I thought it was cool that the two hikes complemented one another. Alberto is still guiding us!
We got back to the wonderful Los Siete Reyes, because laundry is calling. Well, more like smelling. 😹 On our way out of the old town of Ainsa is a hairpin turn. Just as I got to it going down, a MASSIVE Spanish bus pulled across both lanes trying to make the turn. We should note that all the cars in Spain are small, but the busses make American busses look like minnows. We are staring at each other as neither of us can go forward. We are only 1.5 cars lengths from the bus, and I can see the bus driver isn’t going to do anything but sit there. Isn’t this called a Mexican standoff?
I’m not thrilled, but I’m going to have to be the one to back up going uphill to let this great white whale pass. I start backing up, up hill I should stress, trying to see where I’m going with the mirrors and looking out the back. American cars since 2015 have required backup cameras, but Spain does not. When our rental goes into reverse, all you see on the car screen in black is the super helpful “pay attention to surroundings.” Have you guessed where this is going? Yep, I back up right into a low wall I couldn’t see at all. It caused cosmetic damage to the rear right passenger side. Our laundry is now the most expensive laundry run in the history of laundry runs. A $20 backup camera would have saved a lot of money and aggravation! But, by way of Greta at Pura Aventura and my lovely Pam, they had bought the full insurance package before the trip so we should be OK financial wise.
After a few minutes staring at the damage, we head to do laundry at a campground three miles north of Ainsa. That’s when the whole debate of “who’s more advanced, Spain or the US?” gets interesting. We find the laundry and as we don’t have detergent or much cash, we go the campground office to buy detergent and to find out how much cash we need to get. The lady working the desk is awesome and says, “Oh, our washing machines automatically add detergent and they cost €4.50, and the dryers are €3.00.” Also, both are massive, so two weeks of clothes fit in one load for both. The question for all of you is, which is more advanced: backup cameras or washing machines that squirt in detergent automatically? Without question, I vote for backup cameras. USA! USA! USA! 😹😹
Eventually, it’s time for dinner and we need to find a restaurant. Something we’ve noticed in Spain is when you look up a place on Trip Advisor or Yelp, the star rating is their real rating. It’s not like the US were everything is inflated to the nth degree. We’ve figured out that if it’s not four stars, there’s a very good reason. Between places not being open and lower reviews, we are having trouble finding a restaurant. We finally end up at Mora de Nuei in the old town of Ainsa. It’s hot so we head to the patio, but it’s very noisy, I forgot my hearing aids, and I’m frustrated about the accident, so the grump factor is pretty high for me. But that all goes away on the first bite of their secreto imberico. Imberico ham is the best ham in the world, and this secreto is from the back of the pig. It’s mind blowingly good. Like holy-fucking-shit-Pam-you-have-to-try-this-now good. The kind of good where you wonder if it’s rude to order six more.
The waiter was one of those real professional waiters that has a million tables and keeps it all looking smooth. Nothing flustered him, even the table of 14 ladies who ordered all sorts of special conditions. An atom bomb could have gone off in the restaurant and he would have handled it. At the end I asked if they had any “chupito casero” (homemade chupitos) and he says, “I’ve got you covered.” He brings out a homemade blanco, the really, really strong stuff. I haven’t had any as good since visiting my wonderful brother-in-law’s hometown of Arbo. It was supreme and approaching the levels of Popcorn Sutton’s moonshine we used to buy from Popcorn behind Tuscola High School way back when.
In the middle of this waiter handling all this craziness of a million tables, with half the chupito gone, he’s across the patio, looks me square in the eye and gives me a small nod. I give him the small nod back because he knows this is the real shit and he now knows how much I appreciate it. This moment is why I always want to vacation in Spain.
I hope all of you have moments that good on all of your vacations! Thanks for reading!
Whew, what a day! So sorry about the car, but the views and chupito had to make up for most of it!
Damn, John! You're one hell of a writer! I am SO enjoying your trip!