Looking West

It felt as though everyone got out of the starting gate at the same time this morning. The trail was packed as we climbed the hill out of town. Things tended to loosen up a little further down the trail as people hit their own pace. But finding that pace was difficult when people would walk three or four abreast and leave no room to move forward.

As I remarked yesterday, it seems the Camino has become a little more impersonal. There are just too many people for it to be the same experience as before. Of course, anyone who has just started out here believes this traffic is normal – And for them, it is. It is their Camino. It’s my Camino that has been modified. Not undermined, and not spoiled. It has just changed. The hours where you might see no one have transformed into hours where you can't help seeing hundreds.

It dawned on me that if I continued to race to get ahead of people, I would always be chasing someone. So if I can find a gap between groups, I settle into the pace that keeps me in that bubble and allows some separation.

There were some hills on the route, but nothing too challenging and nothing all that interesting. Much of the trail ran alongside roads. I believe that will be true until we complete the Camino. The areas are becoming more congested. There still was some beautiful scenery. However, nothing to match what we've left behind us. 

This town we’re staying in today is called Palas de Rei – “Palace of the King.” Walking around. I was not able to find any castles. There were some children and families here. The total population is only around 3,600 people. Again, the main industry seems to be to support pilgrims as they transit the area. Restaurants, a couple of supermarkets, and hiking outfitters are pretty much the only businesses open.

The bright spot for me today was hiking the last couple of hours with a gentleman from Ireland, named Dermot. There is no mistaking him on the trail. He travels with an umbrella to protect himself from the sun. Judging by his complexion, it is an excellent plan.

Whether we were going uphill or down, along the side of roads or out in fields, the time flew by. We discussed everything from family, to politics, to the history of the Camino itself. He has done segments for years, and this year he will finish in Santiago.

Dermot was there for sunrise at the Iron Cross. It was a very touching moment to see him place a stone and say a prayer for his mother, who had died only two days before he began the journey. Everyone has a story on the Camino. Dermot's story resonates.

During the last hundred kilometers (that’s 60 miles or so), pilgrims are required to get at least two stamps in their booklet every day. Otherwise they don't qualify for the completion certificate. So, there are stamps everywhere throughout the day. Bars, churches, tourist information booths, and lunch counters all have their own stamps. I wasn't trying very hard today and I got seven.

The arrival into town this afternoon took me past a burned-out hotel. You could still smell some of the residue, as it only went up in flames a couple of weeks ago. In all these villages that we've passed through, I don't remember seeing a single fire department.

One of the things I should have been documenting from the beginning of the journey is manhole covers. Each region or city has their own design that incorporates the shell of the Camino. Hopefully I will be able to capture more in the next few days.

With all the people on the trail, the restaurants are packed. Reservations are encouraged, and that in itself changes the tone of the evening. We managed to find a good pilgrim's dinner for 12 euros. Mine was a seafood soup and broiled chicken, while Spence had Galatian soup and chicken. The price includes wine, water, and dessert. We agreed that we have been spoiled rotten by the prices of food here in Spain. It will be a real shock to go out to a restaurant back home when I return.

As I write this, I look to the west and see the sun setting. The town is small and in the distance I can see the mountains that mark the end of the Camino.

Tomorrow’s hike is about 18 miles long with some hills again. At this point, it is just another day. My laundry is drying on an improvised clothesline. I can feel myself getting a little antsy to reach the finish line, get on a plane, and get home. It has been an incredible adventure, but it has also been a long time away.