The green hills of Galicia are green because there is a lot of rainfall. We said goodbye to the coast and we seemed to have said goodbye to the sun as well.Because we are so far ahead of schedule we are staying in a pension in Mondonedo (pop. 2,500) for two nights. Last night we watched Spain beat Croatia 1-0 to advance to the quarter finals of the EuroCup. Bar crowds in small towns in Spain (maybe everywhere not knowing many bar crowds) tend to be exclusively male. The men don't cheer deliriously. However, when Spanish players come close, but don't pull the trigger on what look from the bar stool view through the camera lens to be sure scoring opportunities, everybody in the room becomes an expert. Even though I can't follow the entire conversation, like men who watch sports in the US, these Spanish men seem to know just what these finely drilled, carefully practiced, and highly paid athletes should have done. Espana wins and everybody goes home happy. Tonight we'll watch England vs Ukraine.
The day has been very quiet. I used the bath tub as a laundry tub and washed socks, shorts, and shirts. Pete set up his drying line between two chairs, and our room is adorned with drying socks. We decide to eat the menu al dia in the bar/pension restaurant. We split a salad and I get braised goat shank for my secundi---delicious.
As we drank our morning coffee we had one of those remarkable meetings that keep happening along the Camino. As we are enjoying the brew, out of the rain comes a woman we have been seeing on and off since San Sebastian (day 2). Margot is a 60 something German woman who walked the Camino Frances last year and decided to tackle the Norte this year. She periodically finds other women to walk with for short periods of time, but always trudges on even as her companions leave Camino to fly home, drop out due to injury, or hop busses and trains. She told us she had been praying for the rain to end as she didn't like to walk in it since her glasses didn't have wipers. She sat and drank coffee with us, told us she hoped to be in Santiago by the 24th, but she had plenty of time. As she geared up (belt pack, back pack, pancho, hat, hood--quite the procedure), we wished her 'Buen Camino', and off she went to climb 450m into the clouds (we'll wait until the morning to do that) and onto Santiago. I tried to think of who I knew, what woman in her 60's, that might decide to walk more than 500 rugged miles across northern Spain by herself? When I first thought about making Camino, I envisioned walking alone. I thought I would use the silence and solitude to spiritual advantage. Now the idea is laughable to me. Alone, I might have stopped in the Basque hills. Alone I might have been completely broken by a stralned knee. Alone I would not have discovered and explored the Nicodemus story. Alone, well, alone I don't know what might have been, but I doubt it would have been as good. I don't have either the temperment, courage, or determination to have walked alone. Margot quite clearly has something in her that provokes my wonder and admiration. So as I did say 'Buen Camino' I also thanked God for a world that included women of bravery and pluck and that I got to cross paths with her weaving through 4 weeks of walking in Spain. Extraordinary, simply extraordinary-- a privilege. Buen Camino, Margot, buen camino.
No comments:
Post a Comment