…continued from Part 3: Crossing the Meseta I have been hiking all day on a winding mountain road past little towns, highland farms, and wandering cattle. The terrain – and the weather for that matter – is a welcome change from the continuously flat Meseta and its April showers that consumed the last week of my life. I’m a few miles out from the Cruz De Ferro, an iron cross standing at the top of the pass just after the hillside village of Foncebadón. I check into an aubergue after a hard day uphill.