Since we have a day to spare before Santiago, we leave the albergue late (8:00). There is light fog and it is very chilly (I wear a long sleeve shirt as we walk for the first time, Pete zips the 'legs' onto his shorts). Nevertheless, it looks like the skies might clear for the first time since we entered Galicia.
We stroll into town, find a bar/cafe and sit down for some coffee. We meet s young girl and boy (just around 20 I think). They ask us where the albergue is, and we are sure puzzled because it is so early and they are on the wrong side of town (1K past the albergue). They explain that they too, the overnight bus from Madrid, will meet others at the albergue, and start the Camino tomorrow. She said this was her 5th Camino, but this time she was with her boyfriend and it was very 'romantico'. In the spirit of leaving the curmudgeon behind I did not remark on the romantic character of bunk beds and 27 smelly snoring strangers. Buen Camino young ones. Have an adventure. Hold hands, be carefree and a little wild.
Our guides tell us there are markets here in Vilalba, but none for many a K after that. We are going to wait in town for the market to open, but we find out it does not open until 9:30. I also ascertain with a bit of pigdin Spanish and meaningful pantomime that there is one market in our destination for the day: Baamonde, 17K away. So off we go into the chilly but rapidly brightening morning. The Camino winds through the peaceful countryside. The sun begins to cut the fog. It is simply beautiful now--flowers, pines, green pastures, quiet lanes, and medieval stone bridges over small creeks. What a morning. Our spirits sing. We sing. The birds sing. Pretty soon Juile Andrews is gonna show up and start singing about the hills (now kinda distant).
The Camino dances back and forth under the A6 (a 4 lane 'interstate') and the N634 (2 lane 'state highway'). The back country lanes are lovely, but we only had coffee this morning (the cafe did not have tortilla--as a matter of fact here in Galicia, none of the bars have totilla in the a.m.). We are a little hungry. I'm taking Ibuprofen so I can walk, and if I don't have a bit to eat it makes me queasy. After 2 1/2 hours we stop for devotions. I share prayers the Deb and John P and Virginia D. I take the pills and eat my last food, a small can of tuna. Lucky thing this tuna in Spain is so different and so good. We set off again, cross the state road and see that our destination is still 11K down the road and we've only come 4K from our start point. Yikes. We walk on the Camino as it winds like a snake around the road. At noon we break at a bar for a coke. With pigdin English and pigdin Spanish we find out from the locals that via the road our destination is 10K and via Camino its 15K. The 'interstate' has pulled most of the traffic off the N634, so we road walk the next 6 miles (10K). Road walking hurts our feet (and my knee!). Slapping left right left right on asphalt for a couple of hours is just not the same as muddy paths through quiet forests and meadows. Yet our hunger moves us (and several other peregrinos we see) to sacrifice beauty for speed.
We arrive at another gorgeous Galician albergue (now they are getting large as we near the 100K to Santiago point). We shower, do laundry (I put a photo of the wash facilities here), and head to the restaurant for menu al dia. I have Cauldo Galiego (potato soup with greens--yes believe it or not there are vegetables in one Spanish dish!) Followed by fried fish. Delicious. Tonight we'll sit in a bar and watch the Germans eliminate the Greeks from the Eurocup. Tomorrow we hope to find a bar to watch Spain play. The Camino is a walk of great beauty, mystery, and wonder. It is a great mystery to me who is measuring for the guidebooks and the road signs. I wonder if it is a Spaniard? On one sign today we saw that had we followed the road, we would have to walk 8K to get to our start point and 9K to get to our destination. After a 1/2 hour walking, it was 9K back to the start, but 6K to the finish. Beautiful math huh? Buen Camino.
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