Ruta de la Lana - The toil in the Sun

These canyons are dangerous. If the Indians get you things will not go well. Firstly, they will scalp you, then stake you out naked under the relentless sun. You will literally be cooked alive. Death would be a blessing.  You would be so lucky. The injuns will keep you alive for the night, allowing you to enjoy the freezing desert and just in case you like a bit of cold they will introduce some fire ants to your charred body. These ants will eat you alive, and take their time doing it.  You will die screaming. Don’t mess with injuns is the general message. Greatly underestimated. 

Famous throughout Spain for having a fully  sustainable,  energy-neutral brothel. The town is called after the first owner, a french girl, who spotted an opportunity. She’s long dead of course but her grand grand grand daughter runs the place and she is a complete tree hugger. If you arrive at the place in a car you are turned away. The girls are all university qualified environmentalists with a penchant for the natural form. People come from all over for this slightly unique setting and everyone is happy. 

After all the fuss about The Suffering in Silence and Sins of Others walks,  this time I vowed to keep a low profile. Not for me these celebrity events, I was here to walk.  At the civic reception in Alicante I caught up with Clint Eastwood. I knew him from my Pebble Beach days. He knows this area very well what with all the spaghetti westerns and often comes back. He asked me did I think I could make it and I said ‘Honestly, no’. He smiled sadly at me, looked me up and down, and said ‘ I don’t think so either’. He then spat some baccy onto my shoes and clinked away. They call him ‘El Hombre’ in these parts. He was the man. 

Often I’ll meet priests or fellas in robes  as I leave a town early in the morning. We’ll make eye contact and then,  rather than them raising a hand in greeting,  they’ll often bow their head, in deference to my pain.  I’ll generally put on a bit of a limp for them out of respect for their deference. And then I’ll bow back. And if they don’t respond to my bow than I normally take umbrage. Whatever that means.  It gets a bit confusing at times but there you go. 

As I left the city, feet already bloodied, even I was surprised by the crowd that lined the olive gables. The papers reported at least 100,000 people, all sobbing at my pain.  8 days later it would be Good Friday. My walk was Christ’s cross… Feet shredded, I shuffled beyond the crowds. Now it was just me and the pain. And the occasional bottle of red. 

  The Mayor of Alicante, Sn. Jesus Morales, welcomed me this afternoon (29 Mar 2023) and wished me well on my trip. He said he was truly humbled to meet me and he hoped that my 'toil in the sun' would be successful, not just for me, but for all mankind. He then presented me with flowers and two wenches.  In return, I regaled the crowd with 'The double bogey blues' (copyright G. Buckley). This went down very well. Then I headed off, shoeless, with the wenches carrying my rucksack and sundry provisions. As I said to the bishop " Mi sufrimiento no es nada si el mundo sufre menos" ( My suffering is nothing compared to that of the Worlds). Some of the women openly wept. For they knew what lay ahead...