Bus ride, mountain grass, and making it before the rain

Above: Lauriane, Don Quixote, and me.

1. My favorite part of the bus ride to a mountain trail near Zamora is after the coffee break at a cafe that boasts, "Hay Pulpo Gallego" or Galician style octopus. After everyone powers up on coffee, Coke, tortilla, chocolate or perhaps even pulpo, the bus takes us up through winding mountain roads to the start point for our hike. The mountains come into plain, unobscured view and as we swing around a corner, a massive lake flashes before our eyes. My body starts to relax and calm after seeing such spectacles of nature.

2. The terrain of today's hike resembles tufts of straw like hair, blonde and disguising the past week's rainfall in cunning spirals. At one point, I feel like a character out of Super Mario Bros. hopping from one grassy toadstool to the next, attempting to save my dry feet from "mucho frio." Yellow cups of flowers dot the landscape, while cows and bulls from nowhere munch happily in the distance.

3. Lauriane and I chose the Option A hike which was only four hours as opposed to the seven hour hike that the hard core walking stick equipped group trekked out on. We figured this was the best option as Lauriane was wearing new boots that came with a fear of blisters, whereas I had no boots, just my airy trainers that are starting to develop holes. With the possibility of rain, we thought four hours might just be enough. Just as we came into the village for a museum and cafe break, the rain started to come down. Que suerte!

Hiking in the Basque country

Super-calcetines, hiking help, from a distance

1. After weeks of rain, my friends and I set out on a hike with a local mountain climbing club to the Basque country on Sunday. As I was humming happily to myself, I missed hearing a fellow Spanish hiker warn me not to step in a huge puddle of mudwater disguised by a thick layer of leaves. I splashed into it full force and felt the cold sink into the "breathing holes" of my meager running shoes. Minutes later, the cold disappeared and I could hardly tell that I'd stepped into water. I suddenly remembered that I was wearing my SmartWool socks that my mom sent over months ago. Before the hike, I had wondered if they could block water, and instead of feeling stupid for not paying attention, I chalk it all up to an experiment gone well.

2. Going up the mountain is hard work, especially as I'm still in the cold zone and find it hard to breathe, however, going down is almost as much work, seeing as we have to surf the ubiquitous mud slicks to get back. Another hiker offers his walking stick "baston" and I feel like a skier tackling the mud in the same way I'd take on the snow.

3. Once we reach the top of the mountain, there are pockets of snow ponds and mucho viento. We are above the birds and a guide points out that the city of Bilbao, its coast, and the glint from the shiny Guggenheim museum are visible from the top.