Madrid, Espana
It feels like it has been an eternity since last Wednesday and Thursday, or as I have come to remember them as "dos dias del disastres." In the midst of emotional and physical exhaustion, I decided to head to Madrid to recover. Bilbao was a charming city, but unfortunately its proximity to the beaches makes it a very expensive one at the height of Spain's holiday season. In contrast, Madrid is an absolute ghost town with rock bottom hotel deals. It seemed like a great place to hole up for a few days and make some decisions.
The decision was the right one. Maybe it is a byproduct of living in San Francisco for so long, but I feel more comfortable in large cities. Plus with half of Madrid shuttered and on holiday, the remaining people are less harried than normal. I checked into a hotel and began to decompress. I did laundry in an actual laundromat. Not just hand washing in the sink. I bought an ice pack for my Achilles sprain. I spent an evening on the patio of a cafe, drinking several glasses of rose and listening to the mixture of languages around me. My mind went blank for a bit, which was a welcome change.
A day later, it was time to pick up the pieces and explore my options. At a minimum, I was to stay in Madrid until Monday. If my sprained tendon felt better, I would resume my walk. However, if I picked up from Bilbao, I would only have about three weeks in Eastern Europe. It would be a nightmare trying to get to the tiny pueblo where I would have been without the injury. Not to mention it would be days before another large city in the event the injury reappeared.
If there was no improvement, I would need to find a local doctor to make sure it was not a serious injury and to receive treatment. And then head as quickly as possible into a less expensive part of Europe. Despite its economic issues, Spain's major cities are not cheap.
Finally, today, a decision. There is no more pain in my Achilles, which I put to the test this morning in El Rastro (Madrid's weekly flea market). I will leave Madrid on Tuesday morning and head to Lugo. This restarting point is a compromise: the city is easy to access via train, is slightly more than the required 100km minimum for official recognition and gives me enough time to finish without creeping into my other travel plans. It also gives me a small bonus--I will finish a week earlier than anticipated and will use that time to explore Portugal.
Emotionally, I still feel a bit raw and I am disappointed about not walking the entire route. But I am grateful for the physical recovery, for the unmatched kindness shown in Madrid and for the much needed tranquility over the last few days. My heart is ready to move forward again.
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