Given there was basically no accommodation except for a couple remote albergues and no tv, I hoofed it 50km to the next major village so that I could see Germany beat France. Luckily I entered Melida just about game time.
Right outside this ridgeline, I was given the heavy sell by some hippy dippy types who wanted me to come into their little makeshift buildings 'to relax.' The woman was telling me how a couple pilgrims were cooling their heals for a few days there after having some foot problems. If I wanted, there was a place for me to sleep up in the loft. It was bad timing for her as I was on a mission to watch a soccer game. I later came to find out that the hippies were running an 'albergue' and would eventually hit you up for money as you got comfortable in their commune.
This ridge ended up being the last of the Primitivo as Melida was on the path of the Camino Frances (zoo).
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