Many people think the expat life in Spain must be fabulous - and they are right!
Okay, I am not talking about the British and German enclaves at the Costa del Sol, with white pensioner's legs in even whiter socks and sandals, and Irish pub's at every corner. Sure, the weather is fantastic, but I would rather boil in oil than living there. But here, in the deep Spanish countryside, the Sierra de Cadiz, life IS good. The cost of living are super low. I pay 2 Euro for a whole day at the gym! No membership needed, and if I would pay in advance, it would be even cheaper, like 20 Euro per month (I usually go 3 times a week). And the gym owner gives me a full personal training program. Rents are super cheap. Of course, the people here often have no to very little income. My colleague from work and I rent a 3 bedroom flat with 2 bathrooms, balcony, lovely kitchen, and stunning roof terrace for 230 Euro! It is fully equipped, too. Every 3 months or so we get a water and electricity bill which is never really high either (around 25 Euro/month for electricity, and maybe 12 Euro/month for water if I remember it right). Eating out (and drinking!) is cheap as chips, too (literally). Okay, the food consists mostly of chips with meat or fish, but there are several places in town that make super nice dishes (one also offers organic meats from their own farm, and generally, the meat you get is good quality, and most likely from the pigs that run around here in the countryside). A good meal usually doesn't cost more than 9 Euro (12 Euro for organic meat). And the drinks - heaven for alcoholics! Beer 1 Euro, Wine 1,50 Euro (and yes, it is really good wine! You are in Spain!). Gin Tonic used to cost 3 Euro in our favorite bar, but recently they upped the price to 3,50 Euro! Oh well, we're not complaining, especially since we get free tapas with every drink, and they usually pour the gin until we say stop. And so it's no wonder that the Spanish's favorite past-time is sitting in one of the many bars of Prado del Rey, to have a cervezita (a little beer) with a tapita (a little snack) and to socialize and chat along. Nothing is super serious. Shops can basically open whenever they like, or just take a break. The gym owner often is not even at the gym while people are training there - in Germany that would cause a riot - speaking of insurance and safety. People help each other out. If you are my friend, I make you a good deal with whatever I can and vice versa. You can walk home alone at night. I have the saying "nothing bad ever happens in Prado!" and I believe it. I just can't see any crimes happening here. Because everybody is on the same level, and basically everybody knows each other. Passing people on the street, one usually greets each other, even if you don't know the person. Which had been strange for me in the beginning but I got used to it, and think it is quite nice. Possible phrases can be "Hola" (Hello), "Buenas dias" (Good Morning), "Que tal" (How are you?) or "Que hay" (what's up?). Advanced speakers also say "Que pasa" (another version of What's up) or, my favourite, "Que dice el hombre/la mujer" (What does the man/woman say). Ah, Spanish conversation. Yes for an introvert like me it is not always easy. Spanish people have a hard time understanding why I am so quiet and withdrawn. It is not only my lack of Spanish (which has improved quite a bit since living here) but just my personality. I am not very outgoing, but 99,9 % of the Spanish are absolutely extroverts, and they love their loud chatting. Talking of loud. Yes, Spain is one of the loudest countries I believe. People don't talk, they shout at each other. Any scooter or motorbike needs to be reared up and driven up and down the road to show how much noise it can produce. The cars that deliver the gas bottles, bread and other goods, honk every five seconds to announce their coming. Which is charming though, like the cars that sell clothes or fruit and drive from village to village, marketing their latest products via the speakers - it always reminds me of Spanish or Italian villages in the 50's - it's so old fashioned. I am proud to have lived here for almost 4 years now. Prado del Rey is such a special place on this planet that I was seriously considering getting it's coordinates as a tattoo. It is a magic little bubble where time still stands still a bit.
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Prado del Rey is a little white town in the Sierra de Cadiz, the South West of Spain. It is about an hour away from Seville, Jerez de la Frontera and Cadiz, and pretty close to the National Park of Grazalema, with stunning mountains and lovely hiking treks.
Seriously, it is the most beautiful place I have ever lived. This little town is also home of more bars per inhabitant than any other village around. The people of Prado del Rey love their fiestas. They are the most friendly, sweet and kind people. Almost every afternoon and evening you see them getting together in the little bars, drinking a wine or a beer and having a tapa, watching football games, or simply chatting loudly about God and the world. On Sundays everybody is dressed up for church, in the typical Spanish old-fashioned way. Prado is surrounded by stunning views over rolling green hills, and olive groves. In May, tons of wild flowers cover the countryside with a carpet of colors. In June the wheat fields are golden, and the sunflower fields bright yellow. I have lived here for 3,5 years now as I write this. The first 1,5 years I lived in the yoga center which is about 5 km away from the village. After that I moved to Prado del Rey. At first I had a little apartment in the old part, but 1 year ago I moved to a more modern apartment together with my kitchen colleague. We have a stunning view from our balcony, a huge roof terrace all for ourselves, a bright kitchen and living room,3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, and everything for a price you could not even rent a room for in London. I got me a new car! Well, okay, it is not that new. Actually it's 23 years old.
But I love it! It's a Suzuki Vitara 1.6 and unfortunately it had already quite a few issues from the start, but now it seems more or less fixed. And I fulfilled the first steps of my dream of a campervan: I build a foldable bed for the back so that I can now sleep in it!! So proud of my own construction and it was dirt cheap too. I even made little curtains. The bed can be folded behind the back seats and when I want to put it, I just need to fold down the back seats, and I can lay comfortably there :) One year ago I started working out with a friend, Paddy. He is a super fit guy who years ago won a "From scrawny to brawny" contest - he is one dedicated and disciplined and buff guy!
Me, I hadn't done much exercise lately (and not much before that either) :) I loved vinyasa yoga and hiking. Here and there a few push ups. That's it. Then I broke my shoulder and exercise became even more limited. I had just gotten back more regularly into yoga and gained some strength back. But now I seriously wanted to up my levels. There is a gym in Prado and a session costs you incredible 2 Euros! So, inspired to become the fittest me, I went there one day with Paddy, so he could explain to me how everything works and what exercises I could do. I did not expect that he had constructed me a whole workout plan for the next months! So for the next weeks we went together to the gym, starting at 2 times a week for me. I soon learned that I was weaker than a feather in the wind (without being as light). Paddy told me that my push ups were not low enough so I re-started with knee push-ups. He asked me about goals, and I said a pull-up would be absolutely mind-blowing for me! He said that it could be possible in a few months. The training felt really good, and I was happy he joined me every time because otherwise I might have been too intimidated to go regularly, surrounded by all those tough and fit guys there at the gym. Paddy was such a good help and teacher - if I was not able to do an exercise (and a lot of them fell into that category) he helped me finding an easier variety to start off and build strength. Soon we added weekly hill sprints to the training, and geez, they were tough. But I soon noticed a definite increase in strength (not too hard if you start at zero, haha). And one day, it happened! I did my first pull-up. And then two more. To say I was thrilled is an absolute understatement! In the meantime Paddy had done a Spartan Race in Madrid. This is a 13+ km obstacle trail run, often including a lot of mud (and fun I heard). It is incredibly tough, and he ran a fantastic time for his first obstacle race! I got intrigued, and loving challenges (2 years ago we had done already the Travesia together, a 65 km marathon hike through the mountains of Grazalema), I wanted to do a Spartan Race! There was one coming up in Barcelona in 3 months, so I decided to sign up! I had 3 months to train. I started doing more jogging because a lot of the race includes running distances between the obstacles, often with inclines. Running in and around Prado always includes some more or less steep hills in the countryside, so it was the perfect condition to train for a Spartan Race. The hills killed me. I had two trails I ran regularly from then on. One was 5 km run which included 4 hills, and the other one was a more or less steep incline up to a hill above Prado. Besides that I just continued a bit of strength training, doing some push-ups, pull-ups - and burpees. In case you don't know what a burpee is, it is a very much hated exercise, which includes most muscle groups. At a Spartan Race, if you fail to doan obstacle, you have to do 30 burpees. Now let me tell you, 30 burpees in a rested state is hardcore work (at least for me). In the middle of a 13 km run, covered in mud, it is insane. So the weeks went by, and then suddenly it was only one week to go. And I realized - I was definitely still not prepared and fit enough for a Spartan Super Race! I hadn't practised on any obstacles, like climbing a rope or getting over 8 foot walls. My running had improved but I hadn't run a single 10 km so far. My repetitions of pull ups hasn't improved. I did the Spartan Test - how many burpees can you do in 5 minutes - and I did only around 55 or so. They say in my age group I should be able to do 75 to be Spartan proof. Add to that an increased amount of stress over the past weeks before the race. I work a busy job where I am standing on my feet all the time, which is not the greatest for full recovery. I didn't have much time off before the race. The race would be one day before or directly on my period (for you guys, that usually means a reduction in energy). 3 days before the race I had worked a 10 hour shift (read: standing and walking around for 10 hours straight), 2 days before the race I had another shift where I literally had a melt-down. The same day my journey to Barcelona started, which included taking a bus to Seville, where I would stay overnight. Unfortunately my hostel was bloody noisy, and I had to get up again at 4 am to catch my early flight to Barcelona. I managed to get maybe 2 hours of sleep that night, and then 1 more during the flight. I had thought already before that I would not participate in the race because I had just felt run-down, stressed-out, and totally not fit enough. So when I arrived in Barcelona I even felt more convinced. I thought about how I would feel not doing it, and decided that I was fine with my decision. My health was more important. I would not regret it. So instead of just chilling somewhere and save energy, I left my bag at the lockers of the train station, and explored Barcelona a bit before Paddy and his wife would arrive by train. I went to the Sagrada Familia and enjoyed Starbucks, then further to La Ramblas. Finally Paddy and Lidiya arrived, and we had a fantastic late lunch at one of the bext vegetarian restaurants I have ever eaten! Check out Teresa Carles if you get a chance! I had a fabulous tasty mushroom dish and a heavenly gluten free buckwheat sponge cake with vegan cashew creme and chocolate sauce. We joked that after that food I definitely would have to do the run! Then we drove to Manresa where we would stay over night, because the race was further out in the countryside. It took us a while to find the airbnb apartment - and unfortunately there was a festival going on! It was Saturday night, Paddy and I just wanted to get an early night of good sleep, and our apartment was directly on the square where a concert was going on, plus no parking spots were to be found. But we managed in the end, and tried to get some sleep at 9 pm (while lucky Lidiya went out to explore the festival). I didn't sleep to well, and we had to get up again at 6 am to drive to the race. I was still dead-sure I wouldn't run but sure enough put on my gear just in case I would change my mind lastminute. We got there early, parked and registered. We got our little plastic wrist bands, head band and the chip that would measure our running time. We did a little warm up. I did everything still with the thought in mind, that I probably would not start. Then it was 9 am. Elite Heat for Paddy. It was so exciting, seeing all those fit people (did I mention the hot ripped topless duded everywhere?), and then they ran off. The next heat got in and did their warm-up, while Lidiya and I were watching. My heat was at 9:30. I still wasn't sure. By then, a part of me wanted to do it, but a big part of me knew that it would be madness and I wasn't ready to do this. I mean, there was a wall you had to climb over to get to the starting line, and I wasn't sure if I could get over that. But Lidiya convinced me more and more to at leats give it a try, and then I saw a way chubbier girl than me trying to get over that wall, and she got help from some people cheering her up. I thought, how brave she was, and that's what this race is also about: to challenge yourself, to cheer on others, and just to give the best you possibly can. So I went to the wall, tried to get over - and couldn't of course, ha ha. Lidiya pushed my bum up, and then I was there, amidst all these people doing their warm up. I felt pretty scared but there was no way back now. I also felt quite lonely because many people had their teams supporting each other. But here I went. We started running. The run included a LOT of mud and water holes, also because it had rained heavily the day before. So very soon after the start we had to walk through a mud and water hole. I was covered in mud up to my belly and wondered how I could run with those wet muddy and 2 kg heavier shows now. But on we went. The first walls came. I tried. And failed. People helped my at every single of the walls. I felt grateful but also embarrassed. I knew I was not ready for this. Strength-wise I might have been fine but I had no idea about techniques to get over walls. Anyway, I could only do my best. Surprisingly, the running and the distance of 13+ km wasn't the hardest, it actually felt fine. Of course there were parts when I was walking to catch my breath but overall, my endurance qualities were not too bad. Also the carrying of logs, ties and buckets full of stones wasn't that bad. At the slackline I asked a guy if we wanted to get over it together, to help each other with balance. A short Spartan romance, holding each other's hands while balancing over the slack line, ha ha! We ran a bit more together after that, but then lost each other. I wasn't much in the mood for Spanish small talk anyway at that time! Balancing over more logs. More water holes. At times I thought I would lose my shoes in the mud. Sliding down muddy hills on your bum. Actually, this was fun! Then it got steeper up the mountain. Up there the view was amazing!! But sure enough I didn't have my camera with me, and certainly no time to enjoy the view much anyway because I had to watch the trail while trying to catch my breath. The hardest part are the last kilometers. Until then I had managed to run without having to do burpees. But now the obstacles got harder. The first one I failed was a wall you had to climb along to ring a bell around a corner. I sliped off. 30 burpees. Which took ages. Then the rope climb. By that time I was too scared to even try getting up that high and risking falling, so I went immediately over to the burpee space. 30 more burpees. Which took even longer. Then the spear throwing. I took my time, thought of all the tips I got from Paddy, threw - and hit the strawbale!!! I was screaming of joy - until the guy standing there told me it was invalid because the spear was touching the ground with the end. WHAAAT!??! On to more burpees. By that time, I couldn't be bothered anymore about disqualification or time or even pride, so I only did 10 burpees. Further on. The monkey bars. I had trained swinging myself from one ring to another at the gym, and knew I was able to. Thing is I couldn't even reach the first bar. So I had to jump to catch it - and missed it of course. B.U.R.P.E.E.S. Again, I only did 10. Who.gives.a.fuck. Certainly not me anymore by that time. Then the last obstacles. Getting yourself up on a slippery muddy wet wall using a rope. I tried two times, and slipped. Guys who were on the top grabbed my arms and in the end pulled me on my legs and arms up. Very elegantly. NOT. Ha ha. Then I was there. Getting under cars and then jumping over the fire (I was just scared I would be too weak to jump over the fire!) and then I stumbled into the finish. WAAH! I did a Spartan Super Race! I got a medal, an apple, a bottle of water and a Spartan T-Shirt, and there I was, all muddy and cold but real happy too. It took me only 30 minutes to find Paddy and Lidiya, walking around. I found out it took me 3,5 hours to finish! I had read before that an average Super time was 2:40. Well, I certainly didn't rush, because my goals had been a) to survive and b) not to break anything. So all was good. I got showered by a nice guy with a water hose, and then we left already. We drove all the way back to Barcelona, where Lidiya was about to meet old friends, so I took the next metro to the city center and tried to find a hostel. I felt and looked a bit like a homeless person I guess. Mud still on my feet and in my hair, dirty fingernails, a plastic bag with the muddiest clothes and shows you can think of. But I was lucky and found a nice central hostel. First thing: HOT SHOWER! There was still so much red mud coming off me. When I was drying myself afterwards, the fluffy white hotel towel was brown! I just had a shower! I went out food-hunting, and wandered around the area. I got me a "Party recovery-Juice" (almost the same) from the place we had eaten the day before, but ended up buying some food at the supermarket (hummus, crackers, smoked trout and a bag of kale), and ate that at my hotel room. One tipp: if you have just done a Spartan Race, do not go to the Corte Ingles Supermarket in the city center of Barcelona. Too.many.people. WAAAH! I fell into my bed around 9:30 pm. But didn't sleep too well strangely enough. The next morning every muscle hurt. Everything. I was so sore. My knees were covered in little wounds from robbing through the mud under barb wire. I felt wrecked. But I had a day of sightseeing before me. I left my bag at the hostel and wandered off. Starbucks! Another amazing lunch at Teresa Carles (rice spaghetti with creamy vegan mushroom sauce and a take away dessert of rhubarb and strawberry buckwheat tartelette). After walking for 6 hours through the town with sore muscles I made my way to the airport. Of course by then I got my period. INserting a mooncup hygienically on an airport toilet was probably the hardest obstacle this weekend! Flew to Seville, arrived at 11 PM, checked into my hostel, fell into bed, got up at 6 am, caught the bus to Villamartin, and drove home. Oh the joy of a hot bath!!! Would I do it again? Hell, yeah! But with more proper training on obstacles. I feel I should at least be able to climb a wall and a rope. But yes, I am hooked! Many thanks to Paddy who made it possible that I had a minimal fitness level to survive this - and to Lidiya who literally pushed my bum to the starting line. AND to everybody else who pushed my bum numerous times over obstacles during the race! Thanks! So I felt like a long hike today. Staring around midday. July in Andalusia. Silly me.
Nah it was fine. But at the end I had really licked off the last drop of my two full liter bottles of water, and was still thirsty. God never did a coke (a COKE! Yes with sugar and caffeine!!) taste better than after those 4 (YES 4!!) hours of hiking in the desert sun. The hike starts in Benaocaz, a little mountain village. The sign at the entrance promises an hour of walking so I was already a bit disappointed since I was prepared for a longer hike. But I could just continue walking, on and on, not knowing where I would end up (I looked it up later at home - I would have reached Grazalema after 4 hours). But I turned around after 2 hours of walking - and got lost! I must say I panicked a bit, being on my own in the middle of nowhere in the burning heat, running out of water - and really NO SOUL around, just here and there a goat. And everywhere just rocks and thorn bushes. It felt like a real survival and adventure trip so well, that was good. After 4 hours I reached the village and got me the ice cold coke - damn deserved. Nice hike but a bit boring. Although great if you really don't want to meet anyone (like me most of the time). So we did this!! The birthday present for my dear kitchen colleague Tamzin aka chocho was a paragliding flight! And of course she couldn't go on her own! So Mary (who refused to hold the stick during the flight and has no photos/videos), Somesh and I joined her - and it was fabulous!!
Each of us flew a different route with our guide which was really cool. We started in the nearby village El Bosque, a perfect spot for hanglider and paraglider. We saw quite a lot of them over the cliffs (their advantage was that they had been flying without the motor so they got real close to the huge vultures up there. These birds get up to 2 m so that must have been so impressive! It was so cool to see the birds getting real close to the paragliders and checking out these weird plastic "birds"). But we had chosen to fly with a motor which was great too! My flight went from El Bosque all the way to Prado del Rey which was fabulous! I could see my house :) Then we continued and flew all the way to Suryalila - how much fun was that. It was spectacular seeing Suryalila from above, those well-known buildings I work in every day. We got so low that I could spot our center manager Harry on the lawn and we were waving at each other. This was really such a good idea, and I definitely wanna do it again! So after the Travesia I went to the community class with Richard in the morning, being absolutely knackered. Afterwards I went home and rested a bit, but i had promised my dad to meet him later in Prado. I felt great, got me an ice cream (eating without guilt after a 17 hour hike!) and hopped on my scooter to get to town. Together with my dad we went in his rental car to Zahara de la Sierra. Just alone walking up the stairs to the restaurant felt like torture. I felt sooo tired, so we just ate an ice cream and I wanted to head back home.
On my scooter driving along the dirt road to the yoga center, I might have been a tad bit too fast.Add to that my exhaustion. Well, suddenly there appeared this hole on the road, and I couldn't stop in time. I fell hard on the ground, my scooter into the ditch. I first just felt embarrassed, and hoped the scooter was ok. I tried to get up quickly before somebody would see me - but I couldn't. I was laying on the ground hopeless like a bug on the back, and couldn't manage to get myself up, not even in a sitting position. My arm hurt like crazy and I think I even hurt some cracking noises when I tried to move it. Shit. I was laying there, no soul in sight. I grabbed my phone and called Richard. He came immediately on his motorbike and found me still on my back. Another woman stopped by and checked in on us. She took a look at my arm and said it might be broken. She called an ambulance. I felt so stupid and scared. A broken arm!? I was a chef!!! I could not work with a broken arm! The ambulance came and very sloooowly they drove me to the hospital, Richard joined. At the emergency room my wounds got cleaned (pretty deep and dirty ones on my left knee and left elbows - ooooooooouch). Then they x-rayed my elbow. I was crying in pain when they pulled my arm under the x-ray machine. In general they treated me pretty shitty, especially since back then I didn't have my social security card yet (I was insured though! But still we had to pay 80 Euro for the transport of the ambulance). They told me the elbow was not broken and kind of looked at me like "What's your problem really?", and then sent me home. I was happy that nothing was broken, and hoped I could be back at work in a few days. Although my arm really really hurt. THat night I couldn't sleep at all. The next day my dad came and had to spend his last holiday in Spain on his own. Still we believed I would be good again in a few days so in the evening we had a little party at the porch with lots of white wine and dancing. The next day though my arm was still super painful, and my shoulder was swollen double the side. Harry asked if they had taken a x ray of the shoulder. So we went back to the hospital, this time with our Spanish office manager for translation. Turned out they hadn't x-rayed my shoulder. This time they did, and the doctor looked at me very apologetically when he told me my shoulder was indeed broken. In three places at the humerus bone. Oh, and so were two ribs. He was surprised that I was not in more pain (but I have a general high pain threshold). They took an MRI to get a clearer picture of the shoulder fracture and afterwards he said I might need surgery. OH. He wanted to talk with colleagues about my case and then call us back. Glorious. Indeed, after a few days they still suggested surgery to fix the bone with a metal plate. I didn't know what to do. We asked a second doctor too and he said, it might heal well on it's own, but a plate might be helpful for full recovery of range of motion. So I did go to the hospital and got surgery. THis was my first big surgery of my life. I think I only had one minor as a child before that. The hospital was not too bad, I shared the room with another girl. IN Spain, when you are in hospital, you are not visited by your family - your family moves in with you! This girl had her mother being with her all the time, and later her husband, also staying over night and sleeping in a chair. They pitied me for being all without family, and took care of me. The mother brought me with my drip to the toilet, and wouldn't even leave until I had finished peeing. LOvely. I had lots of visitors from staff and volunteers, so that was nice. But I felt so sorry I couldn't work for at least 6 weeks now. And no yoga too of course. I had just become a yoga teacher. I had become so good at yoga, and I loved it! MEH!! After a few weeks rehab started. In the beginning I wasn't able to lift my arm at all. In many tiny steps did I get more movement back, but I never fully recovered. My shoulder stayed quite stiff. I love hiking in nature. A good long hike always elevates my mood and makes me feel great. My dear friend and colleague Richard told me about the Travesia in Prado. This is an annual marathon hike through the Sierra de Cadiz, 66 km. In 2014 it was the 20th Travesia, and he signed up to join. I loved the idea, and not really knowing what I signed up for, I asked him to join me in.
I think we both underestimated it a bit, thinking it would simply be a day of lovely hiking in nature :) We did a few longer treks together to train (one was especially fun with us ending up in our favorite bar and drinking 4 Gin Tonic on an empty stomach after a 6 hour hike), and thought we were quite ready for this. Two of our friends, the couple Paddy and Lidiya, would join us that day. That week my dad was over for a visit, so the poor guy had to spend the Travesia day alone. The night before, Richard and I stayed over at Paddy's apartment in Prado (we were still livign at the yoga center 5 km from town) since the race would start at 4 am. We went to bed early and got up at 3 am, making our way to the starting line. A lot of people had gathered already, I think about 400 people joined the walk. Then we started. We had to wait for Richard who had to run back to the apartment since he had forgotten the card where they stamp every station (to make sure you did the whole thing!), so we ended up leaving with the last bunch of people. With little torches we made our way through the night. The first part went to the neighbor village El Bosque, and we almost got lost along the way. I was surprised how fast the people went, some even jogged. And it dawned to us that people took this seriously, and this wasn't just a simple hike in nature chatting along with friends. There was breakfast at the next station in Benamahoma, the next village. The moment we arrived, the people got told to move on (since we had left Prado so late we were at the tail of the group). There was no more coffee - panic!!! - and we just a few minutes to sit down and wolf down some of our food (of course I had to carry my own food since I didn't expect gluten and dairy free along the stations). A dear friend of ours who helped organizing the Travesia, gave us walking sticks for the next part, and dear lord, we needed them! By then almost every meter went uphill, and I was pretty close to giving this whole thing up. But Richard and I kept walking together, chatting along, and telling each other, we would not leave each other behind (oh, we were wrong about this!). The route was incredibly beautiful, through the Pinsapar in the Sierra de Grazalema. Only problem was we couldn't quite enjoy the view since we had to watch our every step and rush rush rush. At lunch time we reached Grazalema for a longer stop. Richard by then had complained about his ankle which he had hurt a few nights before, dancing to reggae music on concrete (as he does). He got checked by a doctor who recommended he should not continue. So here we were. I had gotten quite in the mood now, and my competitive mind wanted to finish this whole thing! So I left Richard behind :( I continued walking, either on my own or with Paddy and Lidiya for some parts. After a while you get into a real meditative state, and just keep walking. The hardest part was the one after the lunch at GRazalema. We went even higher into the mountains, steep uphill. It was the longest part without a stop, and I ran out of water, and it was the hottest part of the day. At the next stop they offered cheese (no, thanks), and Richard was there!! He was driving with the other organizers from station to station. We continued walking through fields and hills, and along rivers and through little towns. Towards the end I even did some jogging. At the last station I met Paddy again who told me LIdiya had to give up due to pain in her foot. We went the last bit together. After 17 hours and 66 km we arrived Prado, the last kilometers up a steep hill to town. I was knackered but I got goose bumps seeing the people along the road cheering us on, and then we arrived, and the band was playing and there were people everywhere offering cake and hot chocolate, and I had goosebumps. My dad was waiting with Richard and Lidiya, and I felt AMAZING! Seriously, one of the best feelings in the world. I guess even more because I hadn't really known what I had signed up for :) We had a lovely dinner together at our favorite bar, and then stumbled into bed. The next day Richard had to teach the community yoga class in Prado (yeah, right!?), and I was stupid enough to think I could join and stretch a bit my muscles (yeah, right!?!!!?). Needless to say, I spent most of the class in child's pose :) As a big Thank You for our great volunteers Warren, Jenny and Nigel they got a free canyoning tour in the Garganta Verde with Fran, and I could join them!
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