The blister stuff worked, mostly. We were able to walk the 20 km to this village with comparative ease. We even managed a 5km detour to look at a beautiful old Celtic church. The journey climbed a few hundred feet, but it was nothing to a couple of seasoned Pyrenees crossers such as ourselves. For most of the day we have been walking through fields of new wheat and rye. The countryside is breathtaking: a constant reminder that we New Zealanders don't have a monopoly on beautiful andscapes. There are eagles and hawks in the air. The hawks are hunting, I think, the clouds of swifts which nest under the eaves of many houses. I am told there are vultures, and as we got nearer Punta La Reina we bagan to see storks, nesting untidily on any tall point they could find.
Puente La Reina is named after it's famous old bridge. For many centuries this old stone marvel has been helpfully keeping people out of the water. There is a modern bridge half a mile away from it which is used by traffic and also by the visitors, from which to take photos of the old bridge.
We got here at 2:00 to find the town shut down for the eminently sensible phenomenon of siesta. It´s 6 now and the place is starting to open up again. The shops are all open and the restaurants and bars just starting to prepare for the busy evening ahead. And I have to find somewhere or something to eat. Buenos Noches.