October 2, 2001
Estella- Torres del Rio (sunny)
18m/28.9km - 85m/136km

Very early this morning about half past dark I was awakened by the sound of a rooster crowing outside the open windows overlooking the backyard of the refugio. Every 30 seconds, "Er-er-err-er-errrrrr! Er-er-err-er-errrrrr!" After the fifth crow I heard people groaning through out the room. The sixth crow was, "Er-er-err-er-BIG METALLIC SOUNDING CRASH." Silence for 30 seconds. Silence for one minute. Silence for two minutes. I feel people around me relax. Good he's finished. Then, "Er-er-err-er-errrrrr!" People laugh. Then a miracle, he crows once more and after that is quiet.

At breakfast this morning B and T say they want to pick up the pace and move faster. Both of them have to reach Santiago by the 26th and will not make it at the rate we are going now. They need to cover 15-20miles/24-32kilometers a day. J and P say fine. I think about it for a minute, not sure if I can keep up at that pace, and decide to give it a try. We agree to walk as far as Torres de Rio today.

We walk mostly on dirt paths and arrive at Villamayor De Monjardin around 1000A. We stop at the refugio there, which is run by a Dutch Evangelist, and have sandwiches and Cokes while sitting at one of the tables on the patio in front of the building. This is another hill top town and while eating we gaze at the countryside we just traveled through.

We arrive at Torres de Rio in late afternoon and check into an extremely nice privately run refugio. I am very tired from all the climbing we have done today; most of this section was very hilly.

I can't understand why the small villages we walk through all look deserted but at the same time well maintained. This town is the same. The sleeping room is the refugio is upstairs and before we can go up we have to remove our boots and store them in little cubicles underneath the stairs. While I'm spreading my sleeping bag on my bed P comes up to me with a sly smile on her face and says, "Wait until you see the bathroom."

I go look and find French toilets. French toilets are also called squat toilets and using one is like going to the bathroom in a tile shower stall. Only there are no walls between the toilets. The tile floor has a hole in it and two rectangular shaped marks where you put your feet. After examining it for a minute I go back out and ask P, "Which direction do you face?" She says to face the wall. I go back in. Which wall? The one across the room or the one behind the toilet? When I finish I think about the person who decided that putting these things in was a good idea. He or she must have a cruel sense of humor. After scrambling up and down hills all day my legs are tired and the last thing I need is a French toilet. By the way, when you are through, don't flush until you step out or you will get your feet wet.

After I take a shower and do my laundry I take a short walk with P and B. J and T are making phone calls. We find an appealing sunny spot on a low wall next to the church and sit there talking. A couple of minutes later T walks up and says her boyfriend broke up with her on the phone and then she starts crying. We try to comfort her as best we can. Poor T. J walks into to this and not sure what to do, quietly drifts away. After T calms down we return to the refugio where J is waiting. Later we all go out to dinner at an Italian restaurant just around the corner from the refugio. The food is amazing and this turns out to be the most enjoyable meal I have had so far.