A subtitle to today’s misadventure might be …..
Never trust those little dotted lines on Google Maps when they say they are pathways.
To start today I caught the 7:30 AM bus from Aguazas back to Murcia City and after a quick salve to my Cathedral obsession ( any good Church actually) . I headed for this section of the trail .
After yesterday’s hike, where I had to make a fair amount of my own route, the description of today’s route holds much more interest 
“Mula – Bullas: between landscapes and vineyards” . That’s the ticket !
Distance: 21 km Walking time: 5 hours – so a bit shorter too although a little strenuous, as we have considerable incline in parts.
I hear it is not uncommon to see golden eagles along the way as I follow One of those greenways I spoke about previously. This one is the Vía Verde del Noroeste, which passes through El Niño de Mula.
Todays trail –
Early morning Murcia was fun and fresh. An early morning bus ride anywhere makes you feel involved with the country.
After coffee – the Cathedral did not disappoint .
The interior as always a perfect cool oasis – THIS is the place for contemplation.
And then 2 appointments across the plaza mayor ….
A Sello for my passport at the tourist office and a visit to the Archdiocese office to pick up some documents left for me .
This should get me into some interesting places .
Many thanks to Daniel for his interest and help in my hike. I’m guessing that the Diocese would have had other priorities during a Jubilee year – so an out of season benefit . Notice they call it Camino de La Cruz ?
On my way now – through San Nicolas – I head to the days start in Bullas as that means I can hike back Mula and be nearer my overnight accommodation.
BULLAS –
There are 100% benefits of visiting this area at Easter time as you will see fabulously demonstrated tomorrow. However, one of them is that despite what it says on the museums or tourist information, they are not open on Easter Sunday. No surprise there then for dedicated catholic community. I chase an alternate source for a sello / stamp for my credential at a bar that was open to be met with Puzzlement and willingness and equal measure and ended up with a VAT receipt stamp, and the cold Estrella Galicia.
With a nice stroll down “English Street”
It’s a quick 4 hour walk – no stopping – very few photos – most if these are from Paco Fernandez – thanks . It’s gratifying how much ground you can cover 6.5kph and how noticeable this is you are on an old railway track bed as you pass by platforms, deserted station, houses, and tunnels .
MULAS
I am in Mulas by mid afternoon – a quick stop for a picnic from my backpack. I’ll take a look around the small town that will later come alive after siesta
I take a look at the formidable, looking castle and decide I have enough energy after todays short hike to go up there.
It was built as a result of the quarrels between the Fajardo Family (who became the Marqueses de Los Vélez) and many of Mula’s more powerful citizens.
The 16th century Castillo de los Velos or Castillo de Los Fajardos ( same people ) looks really interesting and to give you an idea of how it dominates the town here are some moody stormy professional photographs from the local touristico website.
J’AMAIS VU
Choosing a trail you know as unconfirmed, finding yourself in a ( to say the least ) a sticky predicament. The opposite of déjà vu is “jamais vu”. It’s that bizarre feeling when something totally familiar suddenly feels unfamiliar, like forgetting your own name for a second. It’s your brain pulling a “wot dis?” on reality
That’s what happens when you follow one of those small dotted “informal path” lines on Google maps. Do you think you know what you’re going?
On the way up , here are some of my photos. As I walk through the village and take an alleyway between two old houses and start to head up, the path does not feel steep – at least not on the way up.
It takes me 20 minutes ascending through the village streets To get to the base of the castle then, cutting through a narrow alleyway, I get to the base of the castle in the main picture above . I start to climb only to find there is no access. I move, laterally, thinking that has got to be an entrance but no. I traverse further thinking, I see a main gate only to be met by a 50 foot drop onto a narrow roadway. I see now – THAT is the actual entrance to the castle on the far side that I hadn’t seen previously. ( what! How have I not checked this? )
At this stage, I turned around to see that my ascent has put me in a perilous position. One of those moments you may have had if you ski when you know you’re at the top of a deadly black run, and the only way down is on your arse .
One misstep, one fall , and I would tumble 200 feet.
It takes me 40 minutes of painfully, slow sliding and digging my heels in, holding onto any vegetation I can. It gets to the stage where you’re saying to yourself, -, you fool you knew, you’ve experienced enough to have seen this, followed by quasireligious promises – “I’m definitely going to church To say thanks, if I get out of this” — and I do.
It is with a relief I will remember that I make it down and sit under a tree, and look at my completely skinned hands with bloodied marks in the center.
Besides being filthy, I check and appear to have lost nothing as I tied everything down , backpack on my front , before I started my descent. It turns out the only thing I missed was my pilgrims passport but the pocket where it was has mostly disappeared in the slide , it’s gone forever. A small price to pay I suppose.
I reiterate, my gratitude to the universe as a whole. I’ll take this picture just to remind myself of where I was at the moment .
I walked down into the village. It’s now coming alive, a very noisy bar. It’s full of ambulancemen, firemen, and locals celebrating Easter Sunday.
I noticed things go slightly quiet as it’s a very local bar. I order a beer and head to the Loo. I see that I’m covered head to foot – deep dust , sweat and I’m still wearing my widebrimmed hat. It’s no wonder – I look at sight.
The finest beer of many I’ve had goes down. I’m sat outside with my feet up in the shade. There’s smoke , greetings , jokes , laughter , loud rapid Spanish spoken around me. It takes me some minutes to realise that some of this is addressed to me until someone shouts.
“Hoy – Senor Sombrero ! “
Without going into this in such detail as my other previous broken Spanish conversation. I establish I am on Camino which I hope partly explains my condition. They laugh at me. I then say at my age, I shouldn’t be doing this. We then have a happy 20 minutes playing I’m older than you top trumps — and most of these handsome, fit, tanned men are at least my age and some 15 years older. Top guys.
I had no recollection of what the bar looked like other than it had a ultra basic almost commercial looking entrance. And part of a small commercial Centre. Ideal when you’re a local emergency services guy. €1.5 Cold Beer €2 tapas – Rock-bottom prices and zero Guiri to jack them up to tourist rates. But after a quick, Google Street search here it is. And thank the Lord it existed.
The air-conditioning in the zippy Citroen DS3 certainly had its work cut out on the way home. A lifesaver on the way home to Murcia City.
Jardin de La Seda this place and my second visit this evening feels comfortably familiar .
Supermarket deli dinner. Decent olive oil, nice wine and fireworks on the balcony.
I’m having tomorrow off from Hiking – couple of airport runs – but even without them I’d have swerved Camino Rambling for a day.
I could have called today “Muerte en Mula”. But that would have been wayyyy too dramatic .
So I won’t
Night XXXX