After 28km in the broiling sun from Montserrat, along with several kilometres in a police jeep courtesy of the provincial police who thought me mad for hiking in the afternoon (and they were right) and were clearly worried about the paperwork involving the death of a pilgrim from sunstroke, I was very pleased to be able to walk into the cool lobby of the Hotel America and be registered by the bemused receptionist.

Like the police, she clearly thought me insane, but got me a room on the shady side of the hotel, told me that the pool was still open (for, in Spain, it seems that September means winter, even if it is 35 degrees outside), and got me a bottle of cold water.

The hotel is from the late 1970s by its appearance, but the rooms are well-kept and clean, as are the public areas. The hotel is on a service road alongside a major highway, but little noise penetrated the room.

I had a dinner of welcome soup and shrimp in the dining room, although I had... more