5 June to Villafranca del Bierzo

Grapevines, mountains and road walking sum up today. Admittedly there could have been less road walking, but having not got to sleep until after 3am and then being up at 6, I opted for the shortest route. And I took a nana nap in the afternoon.

I didn’t intentionally stay up so late, but sleep did not happen. Our cosy room was like a sauna – in the wee hours we were all awake and dripping and discussed opening the window. The mosquitoes thought it was a grand idea, so it didn’t last long. The Taiwanese lass, confessed to “sweating like a pig” and gathered up her sleeping bag and went downstairs to the dining room floor for the rest of the night. I lay there listening to the buzz and wondering how bitten I would get, given that using any covering was out of the question!

Lack of sleep can cause grumpiness for some people, but in this case everyone was in jovial high spirits when we got up.

I was intrigued to find my Achilles burning as I walked out of town. Coincidence or does rest really aid that much in recovery? Thinking it might, I decided to err on the side of less work and more rest today, before I opt for the hilly route tomorrow.

The morning offered lots of memories…. that church ^^ with the little two person cabins around it delivered a significant dose of bedbug bites to Jaala. On a more pleasant note, I could still see ten-year-old Micaiah holding on to two sticks, one in each hand, and having six-year-old Ella-Rose walk behind him holding the other end of each stick – he was being a train, pulling her up the hill. I felt particularly thankful for how the children support each other still.

I remembered this stretch was the day I missed 5km when adding up the distance…an extra 5km is a long way when you only have little legs and I could still see Rob walking down the street with his backpack on his back and a six-year-old still carrying her big stick on his shoulders. I felt particularly grateful for how he has continued to carry her when she has needed it.

I remembered with a chuckle the man we met, who insisted Rob was an All Black.

At this little rest stop ^^ I met another Kiwi lady and we began another one of those Camino Conversations that lasted all the way to her accommodation, which happened to be the place we stayed in last time. I don’t know if they have replaced the three-tier bunks, but I didn’t want to risk being at the top and so chose somewhere different this time:

It looks pretty grand, but if you look closely, windows are broken, paint is peeling in sheets off the walls, the curtains are falling down, the beds squeak, the showers are mouldy…

I wonder how the other Kiwi lady is getting on. She had expected to come and walk and do lots of thinking, but here we are almost at the end and she is noticing her head has been empty. The only thing she has consciously observed is the value of kindness, and she was feeling like it’s been an awful lot of walking to come up with a trivial truth that she already knew.

This afternoon I played a little game. At 29 degrees I decided it was hot enough for an ice cream. You can buy one in a bar for €2,50, but I spied a little supermarket so bought a box of four for €1,50. Although I momentarily considered eating them all, it was much more fun to zip round the streets trying to find people to give the spares away to. All the Spaniards gave the exact same reply: not at this time. Why you can’t eat ice cream at 3pm beats me when you drink wine at 10 in the morning, but there you have it. Luckily, there was a pilgrim sitting on a park bench and a group of American tourists, who had driven from Santiago this morning and were intrigued to talk to an actual pilgrim, and to get hints about their trip to NZ next year. I admired their picnic spread out on the bench in the rose garden and reminded myself how much I like that kind of travelling too – in fact, whenever I have seen a train or bus or motor home park….

…I have thought wistfully of our Big Trip.

I was sitting outside on the street watching all the 7 o’clockish activity as I ate my bowl of tuna pasta salad when the bells of that church ^^ rang 33 times….and then again. I figured it might mean the church was open and seeing as I’m staying in the attached Albergue’s I figured it would be good to take a look.

Turned out there were already a few people in there praying the rosary, which meant mass would follow.

The dark wooden retablo and painted ceiling kept me occupied through the parts where I got lost, but I find I am understanding more and more.

Sometimes when there is a pilgrims’ blessing it is done after everyone is dismissed, but here it was part of the service – including asking each person where they were from. New Zealand usually gets the kind of response that reminds me just how fortunate I am to be here. We were invited into the sacristy to get a stamp in our credentials, which filled up my page for me and means I can have a relaxing evening!