Days 26 and 27: A day of rest and a short walk into Galicia

After the morning of disappointment, tears, and mounting despair over jumping the train, I napped in the afternoon for several hours.  When I woke up I hobbled downstairs, got some ice from the bar keep (a couple run the bar, live above it, and rent out the 3rd and 4th floor rooms as a pension) to ice my knee while we watched the Italians and Croats play some futbol.  After 2 glasses of wine, the ice, and a large dose of ibuprofen, I felt well enough to hobble to a restaurant to split a salad with Pete, drink another glass of wine, and eat an exquisite plate of grilled squid with carmelized onions. Pete ordered chorizo and got what we called 'a bowl of meat'.  Spanish cuisine is so wonderful with two rather large exceptions: 1) no vegetables as side dishes, and 2) two forms of starch--fried potatoes and white bread baguettes. My squid cried out for cooked greens or grilled yellow squash. Pete's bowl of meat would have been simply yummy over a heap of quinoa with peas and pearl onions.  Well, as you can see some wine and rest at least restored my snooty food attitudes even if my knee was little improved.  We went back to the hotel and watched Spain take the Irish to school on the soccer pitch 4-0 and fell asleep.
The next day was bed, dowstairs for an ice treatment, back to bed and a book, downstairs for ice and a glass of wine, do the exercises my friend Mike Toth sent to me, more wine, rest in bed some more, and basically hope the knee improves.  At dinnertime we went back to the same restaurant, ordered salad and the waiter recommended a dish "melliores" or something--we couldn't understand.  Being me, I said 'sure' and Pete came along for the ride.  I switched from rose (rosado in espanol) to 'tinto' (red in English) and was served a simply wonderful glass from Navarre (all of 1.5£ as one of the mid-priced wines--the Spanish don't tax wine).  Out came the main course--mussels in butter, parsley, and fish stock.  I broke bread, dipped it in the drippings and fell off my chair.  The mussels had been added to the bubbling stock at just the right moment (I saw the cook peeking out to see our progress with the salad, getting the timing just right--I had given her a thumbs up on the squid the night before and she remembered us when we came in--there were never more than 6 in the bar) to open and come to the table done just right.  Wow.  After a dessert,, of flan, I asked if the cook would come out, and Pete has a picture of me kissing a third Spanish woman's hand.  If you can't walk through Spain, you can at least eat and drink, eh?
We looked over our maps and decided we would try a 17K walk to cross the border from Asturias into Galicia.  I said my prayers and hoped for the best.  I woke up at 5:30 and lifted my knee--not great, but not bad.  I got up, but decided Pete might not share my desire to pack up and leave just yet.  I lay back down for an hour, and then I started banging stuff around.  It was foggy and rainy, but now or never.  We packed up, said adios to the landlord, and skipping coffee, we headed out into the mist and rain.
My knee started very slowly and painfully, but as the ibuprofen got to work and I walked it warm, things started looking up.  I didn't break into the Doxology (maybe I should have), but I walked for first 1 hour, then a second and that did bring on a Gloria.  We finally stopped for coffee and I took another dose of Ibu.  It was hard to start after the break.  My knee screamed at me and I thought I was not going to make it.  A dear friend, reading about my knee problems, reminded me of St. Paul's musings on the relationship between suffering, perseverance, and character.  I decided to keep walking.
We hit the coast, stopped for our devotions, and the sun came out.  All the reasons I've been overwhelmed by beauty and brought to tears of joy and delight while on Camino flooded over me.  I also had the joy of sharing prayer with Barb M and Yvonne Y. 
I have decided to try to keep walking, even if I occasionally look like Danny Devito playing The Penguin--waddling a little.  If I think I'm in danger of damage, well I'll think again, but for now, I walked about 21K today--we got lost a bit-- now, I'm in Galicia.  The albergue is right on the shore.  From this point we turn inland to Santiago.  The Way starting calling me 3 years ago. Despite the setbacks of recent days, I still seek to answer, and for now, am able to answer.  Today, the Way has been full of Good News indeed.  Buen Camino.