before and 1st Etapa

The 1st of December arrives and I've checked in for the shortish flight to Madrid this afternoon (1715) from Manchester so will begin the journey there around noon from Leeds Station. Not getting to T3 the suggested 3 hours prior to departure Ryanair are suggesting - 2 hours has to be sufficient? As usual I will take the longer route: Northern Rail via Hebden Bridge to Manchester Victoria then on the Tram from the interchange in Victoria to the airport (around £12).

Leaving the flat for a short trip to collect a free hot chocolate from Caffé Nero on Albion Street and onto the 10:12 to Manchester Victoria to begin the long day hauling to Chueca, Madrid for the first of two nights in that other area I stumbled upon over Christmas in 2019, before the phantom of COVID became a reality in February 2020.

An afternoon in Manchester before the 13:55 from Oxford Road to get to the airport. It's a good city. I walked around it before eating in a Wagamamas on St Peter's Square and found the Bundobust here. The owner provided me with a free Nut Brown Ale as he was genuinely happy to see me over this side of the Pennines...

Arrived at Hostel007 and was a little apprehensive about the cluster of folks coming and going in the foyer, but the two people from Honduras, attached at the hip in a single bed all night, were quiet and I slept well considering the vagrants chanting songs in the early hours. Spanish walls and windows don't always block out the nocturnal pursuits, especially in Chueca which is Madrid's gay area...

This morning I walked to the Church at the start of the Camino de Santiago, got my credential stamped - like a good peregrino - for setting off towards the mountains on Saturday. I should reach Cercedilla by Monday and then see if the mountain pass is viable on Tuesday - the. Temperature up there is below zero at night...

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That was a long night of snoring, street noises and, finally, a mental marching alarm so I got up, dressed, defecated and left to get something inside me and a semblance of normality... I just can't do dormitories in backpackers now. Luckily I slept well at the start of the evening before any of the other occupants had crawled into their beds!

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From sunrise until 2 I walked all the way to Tres Cantos and the Hostal Tres Cantos*** for a night alone in a large bed where no one can break my slumber but myself.

It took me around two and a half hours to reach the end of Madrid as the mountains three days away became the obvious horizon distractions, away from the high-rise business district in the north of Madrid - and the four collosal towers which looking back on the city, once I was in ploughed fields, stood like giants watching my retreat from Chueca along the main thoroughfare passing Santiago Bernabéu and Chamartin carrying my lance over my shoulder!

Now I sit with a glass of Albariño and polish off a chapter from Roads To Santiago while the locals enjoy their Saturday feast on the other side of the cordon. But they don't take card payments so I feel bad. Free soup and three glass of wine and I am exhausted. I think they can take card, but dissuade the usage. But very few Spanish bank ATMs don't add a charge for usage which I really don't appreciate. Now I wait patiently to pay and then go and sleep: breakfast is at 8am.