Looking into the darkness from the height of Las Cabezas this morning, urban Andalucia was plain to see; patches of light from towns and industry spread out to the horizon, linked by strings of red and white jewels, the shining lights of vehicle on major routes, with the whole scene demonstrating the triumph of development over nature. That feeling was reinforced a little later as I saw dawn framed by the huge concrete supports of a motorway flyover that my route took me I under. Not on this trip the magic of the Camino Frances with its sense of isolation and mostly tiny villages linked by a winding, white path. Here, it seems if you are not walking through an urban sprawl then you are walking towards one, and more than likely along a motorway or, like the major part of today, a railway or concrete canal. In those rare times in between when you find yourself in something approaching the countryside it is all too quickly snatched away before you can properly immerse yourself in the pleasure of it.
Despite these frustrations I am glad I am doing this route to link to the Via de la Plata. Had I not, whenever I looked at a map of Spain I would see that unwalked section from the coast to Seville, an itch forever needing to be scratched. And I can hardly expect things to improve over the next two days as I approach that city. My hope though, is that once north of there the next part of this walk lives up to expectations.
Tonight though I am in Utrera, a small, neat town of whitewashed houses and narrow stone paved streets. I am heading out from my airy pensión to eat and relax, hopefully putting sore feet and frustrations behind me until tomorrow, my last day before Seville.
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