end of day three Hostal La Maya.

At 1500 I am in room 19 @ Hostal La Maya after a very, very wet day. Luckily I stopped for a lovely sopa in Navacerrada served with the warm afternoon glow by the proprietor, cook and chica from Venezuela. She made me smile, they made me smile and the bean soup made me walk into the pulsating rain as the path took me up behind the town - I wasn't expecting that! Meson Jarvis, he was my English teacher back before university and the chica made walking in a sulking weightbound morning, with only suggestions of mountains, and me gathering rain enough to sink a ship, worthwhile. I'd looked into a posh establishment  once prior to it and felt cold stares - colder than the rain I'd gathered in several hours. Actually I sat down but the frowning cold shoulder of the people who  welcomed' me into Nava Real made me decide to trudge on in the downpour - they really couldn't care that I was soaking - they were more concerned I was dripping wet on the carpet. They almost failed to realise I came for their hospitality... I decided it would be better to put on my wet attire and trudge onwards: I was rewarded with judiones de la granja which helps in the fight with all natural throws my way?