“Take the path,” the hospitalero had told me last night when I said I was going to Castrillo de los Polvazares today.
I started on it, but for starters the grass was wet. And more importantly, I remembered a story I forgot to write a few days ago. It went along the lines of:
Once upon a time there was a lady frogspotting when she noticed something dark slithering along a rock in the grass very very close to where she was standing and so she stopped looking for frogs. The black thing had a similar circumference to the lady’s little finger, although she did not put it close enough to check the accuracy of that statement. It was at least the length of a standard 30cm ruler – and that was only the bit she could see. The head end had already disappeared when she spotted it. And she did not go fossicking about in the grasses to find it.
That memory was enough to send her onto the road, where the only wildlife encountered was a big brown fluffy rabbit.
A popular tourist destination, especially famous for both its architecture and “cocido maragato”, a meal starting with six or seven meats, followed by chickpeas and cabbage, then soup and recommended to be topped off with custard, it was empty at 8am except for two girls who were going to the bus stop, a couple of people taking their dogs out for a walk and me.
Warning: photo overload (after six weeks of seeing so many rundown buildings it was lovely to see everything so well kept)
I considered waiting for the restaurants to open but six hours was a long time to wait for a rich meal that I think Rob will appreciate more than me! So I walked on in peace.
All thoughts of peace were banished when the path met up with the standard route. It was like a multi-carriage train with no end in sight. So Many People!
I let them stream on past me while I perched on a rock wall to capture the first view of Santa Catalina de Somoza
I stopped for breakfast at the place we stayed at last time for old time’s sake
There was a constant stream of bodies passing by – and sadly I overheard a lot of the entitled grumbling that I have seen reports of online.
“Why don’t they have something substantial for me to eat?” (If you spoke Spanish you would see you could order all sorts of things!) “This heat is ridiculous!” (Wait till it hits 28 degrees later today)
“The dormitory was too big last night” (so take a private room, problem solved)
Exasperation at the bartender getting the order wrong when a lady had been asked if she would like orange or lemon and she had replied “Yes” (in English).
But the grumblers were outnumbered by those happy to be here and wishing everyone a “buen camino”…and the Irish I walked with, who were keen to discuss rugby (and possibly disappointed to find one of the few kiwis who doesn’t follow the game!)
In just a short stretch today there were more entrepreneurs than I’ve seen the rest of the way.
I “employed” one of them, happy to pay for a special sello in my journal.
The queue for his services was quite long – I hope he was making a good living. He took a liking to my journal and added a little dangly angel that I hadn’t seen him put on any of the other credentials.
Soon I would hear someone who had just started telling her walking companion, “Well I’m sure we’re not required to walk the full two hundred kilometres”
Before I started feeling all judgey about her giving up before she’d hardly started, I reminded myself that her attitude was – in essence – no different to what I had penned home last night:
“I’m actually thinking if the glute doesn’t settle down or any other pains start, I might stop at Sarria and take a bus to Santiago to have a few days “off” before coming home! We’ll see.”
And then today felt like a holiday!
Turns out I love a hammock in the shade.
The tipi I am in tonight is also hosting two other kiwis – actually a Dutch couple, who emigrated to Christchurch decades ago and now live even farther south…and who, rather bizarrely, know one of my neighbours!
Dinner and singing…
SoloWalk2024 