Thirteen days ago, Deb and I arrived in Madrid to through-hike the Caminos Catalán and Aragon, just under 200 miles. Between cosmopolitan Barcelona and historical Zaragoza lay the Los Monegros desert - Spain’s least populated part of the country.
Today we start out from Lleide, which dates back to the Bronze age. Our stage is an impossible 22 miles, ending in Fraga. Yesterday’s problems don’t matter much at this point, and by noon, the overhead sun eliminates any shade.
The Los Monegros receives very little rainfall, suffers frequent droughts and bakes under high temperatures, but the amount of greenery is astonishing, due to the extensive irrigation. Still the land is brown, sun-baked and where barren, the rocks stick out. We can not imagine how this land was farmed thousands of years ago.
The Los Monegros is achingly beautiful. Between the highway and the heavily irrigated farms, it is sandhill after sandhill along the trail - truly, a different world.
The summer desert’s beauty is indescribable. Walking here is a mystical experience. We find life everywhere: lizards scurrying along the arroyos, and rabbits darting in and out from among the plants and shrubs - all scratching out an existence in the arid land. After nine miles and four hours, we find a bar in Alcarás, sling off the backpacks and order lunch: Tortilla con patatas, empanadas con pollo, café, carbonated water and orange juice.We break after a further four miles. It’s around 2:30 in the afternoon. So far we’ve covered 13 miles, but it’s still ten miles to Fraga. Our only option is the truckstop at the Poligono Industrial along the traffic-heavy National II (two) route. It is the last option before Fraga, and it would be stupid to press on in the desert.
After checking-in, showering and eating, we put a good face on. Deb and I take a date-night to the gas station mini-mart, where we spend time shopping together for supplies. Sometimes necessity is more romantic than flowers.During the evening, we sit on the patio enjoying the sunset and breeze. We ignore the highway a few hundred feet away. The feral cats are accustomed to the pickings in the trash cans. They jump from the ground to the lip of the can, balance themselves and then somehow scrounge through the contents for whatever. One of them has a gorgeous white-coat with the cutest face. But he won’t come close to us.
It’s dark now and time for bed. Tomorrow will be another day for thought and reflection as we get up early to beat the sun and heat of the Los Monegros on the walk to Fraga.
Thirteen days ago, Deb and I arrived in Madrid to through-hike the Caminos Catalán and Aragon, just under 200 miles. Between cosmopolitan Barcelona and historical Zaragoza lay the Los Monegros desert - Spain’s least populated part of the country.
Today we start out from Lleide, which dates back to the Bronze age. Our stage is an impossible 22 miles, ending in Fraga. Yesterday’s problems don’t matter much at this point, and by noon, the overhead sun eliminates any shade.
The Los Monegros receives very little rainfall, suffers frequent droughts and bakes under high temperatures, but the amount of greenery is astonishing, due to the extensive irrigation. Still the land is brown, sun-baked and where barren, the rocks stick out. We can not imagine how this land was farmed thousands of years ago.
The Los Monegros is achingly beautiful. Between the highway and the heavily irrigated farms, it is sandhill after sandhill along the trail - truly, a different world.
The summer desert’s beauty is indescribable. Walking here is a mystical experience. We find life everywhere: lizards scurrying along the arroyos, and rabbits darting in and out from among the plants and shrubs - all scratching out an existence in the arid land. After nine miles and four hours, we find a bar in Alcarás, sling off the backpacks and order lunch: Tortilla con patatas, empanadas con pollo, café, carbonated water and orange juice.
We break after a further four miles. It’s around 2:30 in the afternoon. So far we’ve covered 13 miles, but it’s still ten miles to Fraga. Our only option is the truckstop at the Poligono Industrial along the traffic-heavy National II (two) route. It is the last option before Fraga, and it would be stupid to press on in the desert.
After checking-in, showering and eating, we put a good face on. Deb and I take a date-night to the gas station mini-mart, where we spend time shopping together for supplies. Sometimes necessity is more romantic than flowers.
During the evening, we sit on the patio enjoying the sunset and breeze. We ignore the highway a few hundred feet away. The feral cats are accustomed to the pickings in the trash cans. They jump from the ground to the lip of the can, balance themselves and then somehow scrounge through the contents for whatever. One of them has a gorgeous white-coat with the cutest face. But he won’t come close to us.
It’s dark now and time for bed. Tomorrow will be another day for thought and reflection as we get up early to beat the sun and heat of the Los Monegros on the walk to Fraga.
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