I started walking the camino, the Via de Plata, again, in Mérida, on Wednesday 2nd of March and I hope to reach Santiago de Compostela on or before the 31st.  The weather in Extremadura is perfect for walking, cold first thing in the morning, but bright and sunny for the rest of the day.

It is straight forward to find your way out of Mérida, simply follow the yellow camino arrows from the municipal hostel.  They will take you north, out of town, past the remains of the Roman aqueduct, and onward to the beautiful reservoir, Embalse de Proserpina.  This is now a resort and a nature reserve.  However, originally, it was built by the Romans to supply water to Emerita Augusta (Mérida), via the aqueduct.  The camino runs alongside the lake for a short distance and then turns unto a very rough tarmac road.  After about 2.5 kilometers, there is a sharp turn to the left, unto an unsurfaced track.  From here, the route is well signposted to Aljucén (15 kilometres) and then, Alcuéscar (19 kilometres).

It was at the point, where the route turns sharp left, that I met a German girl call Virginia.  We spent the rest of the day together, walking through olive groves, on old dusty tracks, discussing caminos, mindfulness, personal journeys and generally putting the world to rights, on our way to Alcuéscar.

In Alcuéscar, I stayed in the monastery, Los Esclavos de Maria y Los Pobres.

The albergue is separate from the main building, where the monks look after many physically and mentally handicapped men.  Having paid them a visit, I was very glad to be leaving, under my own steam, the next day.

I was invited to have dinner with the monks.  There were several other pilgrims at the table and the conversation soon turned to caminos and, principally, the Camino Francés, in the north.  In recent years, there have been an increasing number of reports of lone female walkers being stalked and attacked, culminating in the brutal murder of an American woman in 2015.

One monk commented that this incident harked back to the middle ages, when rich pilgrims, who travelled with all their possessions,  were forced to employ bodyguards, such was the level of crime.  Another, much older monk, suggested that the camino was teaming with lost souls, who, because of bad carma, where unable to throw off their earthly shackles and where destined to walk with the living, seeking redemption for their crimes.  I thought I caught a twinkle in his eye or, I hope I did.  In any case, at this juncture,  I went off to find my small, dark, monkish cell, with just a torch for company.  I shone the light around the room and apart from the surprisingly erotic religious iconography, I was ghost and lost soul free. I fell asleep right away.