18 oct. 2015 Tarifa-Adlanterra 27 km. First day of walking

Holy shit! Pffff. Tarifa to Adlanterra: 27 km, not including the wrong kilometers. It was a good start. Barefooted on a gorgeous beach. I crossed a river, the water reaching my belly. 25 Degrees in the sun it dried right away. On the nude beach I noticed only a few nudies, so about the quality I can’t say much. A young family was bouncing up and down in the waves but the male anxiously watched if I didn’t peep too long to his sweety. Another example, whom I didn’t really want to watch, made a great effort to draw my attention. At this moment I didn’t feel the need to be affronted with anything reminding me of my work.
But next, across enormous dunes, I entered the rocky woods. Packpony Leon didn’t like that, so hoofshoes on, hoofshoes off. It pi… me off still more than Leon himself. Where to go? Paths in many directions, no signs. I couldn’t find good maps yesterday. My gps didn’t help me really, though it did help me not to go still more astray.

The last 7 km. I had to draw Leon. He was almost exhausted and probably his feet hurt because of the rocky soil. He stopped every minute. And when we took a break he shut his eyes. Tosca, my dog was too tired and too hot to bark. The only one who didn’t suffer too much seems to be … yes, yes, excuse the vanity.. me! On top of it all Leon stood on my foot. On a rocky soil that hurts. Leon also tried to stand on Tosca’s foot but Tosca got away with a lot of screaming. Barefooted at the beach I had to seriously take care, because in case of foot injury I would have to cancel my enterprise.
Interesting detail is the various ladies wanted to take a picture of the vagabond. I thought they wanted a picture of me and I took position right next to my horse. I felt flattered, but each time again they wanted me to shoot the picture of them next to my Leon. So, a desillusion for me.
Jack asked a police officer how he could get to the place he was supposed to meet me this evening. The police officers were not surprised. You mean that guy with his horse and dog? We had been reported already. Ha, ha, may be I’ll get a police escort. I wouldn’t mind, because strolling along these roads is darn dangerous. The infrastructure is very much contra horse.
Here follows an explanation. Often I reach my day destiny late in the evening. Then I still have to look after my animals, charge my electronic devices, write my blog, search for tomorrows route, get and prepare the food. So often no time is left to accept all reactions I get to my blog, to answer and to publish those. But Marieke en R, Marietje, Piet and Annie, Paul H, Marlies and Harrie, Francien, Jeu J, Annelies en C, Brigit en Jos, Lilian C, be sure I read them all and I greatly appreciate those. Now I’ve got to check out tomorrows trip, because it’s getting late.

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