No, it's not the Camino: week 2

Mark Eveleigh's 1200km walk across Spain

Jun 02, 2022

What happened next?For updates please see: Week 3; Week 4; Week 5; the end

Dear friends

Two weeks and 462km ago Mark set off on his walk across Spain. And while last week I told you he’s not actually walking “The Camino”, this past week his route has coincided with the Via de la Plata, the longest of all the Camino routes, and also the one considered to be the toughest. After the past few days I’m sure Mark would agree: this route is not your average afternoon stroll.

He’s been walking through the autonomous region of Extremadura: a dry, sparsely populated area of flatlands that are grazed by sheep and pigs, and where row upon row of grape vines and low-pruned olive trees stretch far beyond the horizon. Around this region, the birthplace of so many of the conquistadors, there are also crumbling Roman ruins and fractured mountain ridges; 2000-year-old reservoirs; great colonies of storks; pretty little villages; and dry savannah that is more reminiscent of Africa than of Europe.

The name of this region is taken from the Spanish word for “to go to extremes” – and that’s just what Mark did when he crossed over from Andalusia just over a week ago. While most people who walk the Via de la Plata average about 20km a day (the distance between villages, often), Mark was doing around 32 but still, keen for a challenge and despite daily temperatures in the mid to high 30s, he decided to push his average higher. The days are long, he’d reasoned, so why not use those hours out on the trail. On Sunday, however, that extra distance took its toll and by late afternoon, when he stumbled into Villafranco de los Barros, Mark had walked 76km in two days – and his throbbing, blistered feet and exhausted body desperately needed a break. “I think,” he said when he called me up, sounding quite broken, “I think I might consider staying in an albergue [hostel] tonight.”

That Mark had even spoken these words out loud meant, I realized, that those days of hard walking had really taken their toll. Before he’d set out on the trek Mark, always a man of his word, had told himself he would only ever sleep rough – a nod to the spirit of his journey and his old backpacking days, when he first fell in love with Spain. Suffering a touch of heatstroke and needing to rehydrate when he walked into Villafranco de los Barros, Mark ordered a beer and agonized over this decision; then he ordered another one; and when he realized that the only albergue currently open in town was just 50m from where he was sitting, Mark made the call. In order to continue his journey with a strong, healthy body, he would need to take better care of it, he’d realised. He needed the luxury of time and space to put his pack down and rest his feet until the following afternoon – something he wouldn’t be able to do if he was sleeping rough.

It turns out that allowing himself a conventional home-base overnight was just what Mark’s body needed and after a backpack-free morning, a soak in a hot bath, almost 20 hours of being barefoot and with a renewed plan to keep distances to closer to 30km a day, he practically bounced out of Villafranco de los Barros. (And then walked 31km before stringing up his hammock for the night.) Yet still, two weeks into his trek and despite sleeping on the ground when he can’t find good trees, Mark maintains that that one night in a bed was his least comfortable yet.

Before we get any further – how are your feet?

Mark: I’m getting used to having blisters, and dealing with them is now part of my daily routine. They’re a bit painful when I set out in the mornings, but they go numb after a few kilometres. My route is currently coinciding with the Via de la Plata so I’ve crossed paths with a few pilgrims – everyone has blisters. It’s just normal if you’re walking here.

Have you found any awesome places to chill?

Mark: Two hours outside of Merida (the capital of Extremadura, which is really beautiful and where an old Roman aqueduct lends a real sense of history) I arrived at the idyllic Proserpina reservoir. The Roman gravity dam was built in the first or second century and forms part of the Archaeological Ensemble of Mérida, a World Heritage Site, which dates back to 25BC. It’s now a popular recreational area and I had a really nice lunch and a couple of San Miguel beers at a café, then strung my hammock up between two trees, swam in the lake and relaxed for about six hours before walking into the evening.

Left: The night Mark slept in a field of daisies. Right: Where Mark slept last night. It started to drizzle around 7pm and rain had been predicted for the night, so he set up camp early. His hammock is under there. On a jungle trek in Malaysia we once spent 13 solid hours in this hammock, under this roof. (Yes, we were both in the same hammock and yes, it rained non-stop for 13 hours.) The roof is actually a large poncho – you can see the blob of the hood in the middle – and is what Mark will wear if he’s walking in the rain.

How do you choose where to sleep at night?

Mark: There is light in the sky until around 10.30pm, and so for an hour before that I’m on the lookout for trees – particularly eucalyptus, as they usually have dry ground beneath and not too many insects. If there are no suitable trees then I look for anything that’s bushy enough to give some good cover, and just far enough off the side of the trail to be out of sight should anyone come past.

Do you feel safe sleeping out there?

Mark: I feel 100% safe at night. As a backpacker in the old days, I used to sleep out in cities and those do feel a lot more risky than sleeping in the countryside. Sleeping at the edge of relatively busy roads feels safer than being in wasteland around villages and towns. I either try to get further off the beaten track into the hills, or else sleep nearby roadsides. But, always out of sight. Just to be safe, I always caribiner my backpack onto the head end of my hammock – I doubt anyone would be able to remove it without me waking.

This past week, what piece of gear have you been most grateful for?

Mark: The LifeStraw bottle with filter that I bought in South Africa has been an absolute godsend, at least in terms of reassurance. I haven’t had to rely on it seriously yet, but I have such peace of mind knowing that if I run out of water and manage to find something liquid, I’ll be able to filter drinkable water from it.

The “river” above, btw, is where Mark took a bath, not a drink. He’s washing in rivers/streams/water troughs. Whatever he finds that’s suitable, really.

To be honest, Mark seems to be doing such a good job of finding cold beers in the villages that, should he ever need to seek out a puddle of water to filter, I’ve no doubt he’ll find one.

With love,

Narina

PS Mark says thank you for the messages and for your support :)

PPS What happened next?For updates please see: Week 3; Week 4; Week 5; the end