We had a good visit over a simple, but lovely, breakfast at the posada with a fellow walker from Granada. The highlight was sun dried figs off the owner's fig tree—delicious. We were getting a not too late start when just after we’d pulled the door locked behind us, I realized that I’d left my walking poles behind. It was one of many places we stayed where there was no one onsite overnight and you let yourself out leaving keys behind. And we had been the last to leave from the main floor rooms where our knocks could be heard. There wasn’t any answer when we called César and we were just figuring out what we should do when we saw an older woman coming down the street. It turned out she was César’s mum and she had noticed us standing outside looking troubled and figured we had left something behind. Walking sticks, she guessed. It happens all the time, she reassured me.
So poles in hand we set out happily, following the directions we’d been given to regain the trail without having to backtrack, first along the highway and then under the freeway. Soon we were back on the camino route that was today often just a single track in a, by now, greening meadow. Not too long ago a long-standing land dispute that had required a long detour had been resolved, so we were able to take the original and much shorter route. We had wondered about tackling a longer day, but the not great sleeps had been taking their toll so going to Galisteo as a 20 kilometre day seemed good.
It started to rain as we picnicked and then the light drizzle as we approached the town turned to heavy rain. We had been walking into town with a young Australian woman who had a sturdy hiking umbrella that was keeping her much drier than our rain jackets. She ducked into the albergue that was on the near edge of town while we made our uncertain way to a pension, not too sure how far it was and how wet we were going to be. In the rain, Nedjo missed a low bench in our path and took a spectacular fall. He manged to get his hands out to prevent worse injury but his knee was bloody and it was amazing it wasn’t worse.
We were a bit worse for wear when we arrived at the pension and luckily got their last room. After we got ourselves dried and clean and rested, we headed into the walled centre of town for an explore. By now the rain had stopped and it was delightful. We were hoping to find a store but since it was Saturday evening nothing was open. It was really lucky we had stocked up on snacks and fruit in Casar de Cáceres as we had a number of days without a store of any kind. We had an excellent dinner of grilled vegetables and patatas brava at the taperia on the main plaza and then crawled into bed for an early night.