Nearly Finished
Last night there were thunderstorms for a few hours. I slept great. Maybe the weather reminded me of being home.
This morning the guests of the country house were all gathered at exactly 8 a.m. to have breakfast. The main topic of discussion, over some toast, fruit, cheese, and ham, was how quickly taxis could be arranged to bring us back to town so we could recommence our walk.
The first taxi arrived around 8:30 and transported half of the guests. Then the same cab returned about 15 to 20 minutes later and took the remainder to the starting point. I was in the first cab with Spence and Miriam. We started out on the trail on an overcast day and got about 10 minutes into the walk before the skies opened up.
It was drizzling at first, so we had time to open our packs and put on rain gear. The rest of the day was a continuing cycle of clear skies and rain. We donned and removed our rain gear probably six times. It worked great to keep the moisture out, but in the absence of rain and cold air it was like wearing a big plastic bag. At any opportunity we could, we removed the layers until the next shower approached.
Fred and Beth caught up to us at one of the first coffee stops. We watched the rain get heavier and then lighten up, and decided that there was no point in waiting anymore. We all had radar weather apps on our phones, which provided guidance but not totally accurate information. Luckily the road surface was perfect for the day's weather. It was asphalt or concrete covered with debris that had fallen out of the trees. It hadn't rained enough to make it slippery or muddy.
Trail traffic was heavy again. Bicycles sped past us for the first two to three hours, sometimes with a moment's notice and sometimes with no notice at all. We would stop, step to the side, and try to see how many bicycles were passing in sequence.
Generally, the riders would offer us a greeting and press on. Some would even utter a small apology for spraying us with mud as they passed quickly down the trail. By the time we were into the fourth hour, we saw no more bicycles. My guess is that they'd all traveled far ahead of us, and were probably approaching Santiago while we were still short of our destination for the day.
Along the trail we periodically see a marker. There is a wide variety of them on the trail. When people die on their journey, very often relatives will put some memorial in that place.
The closer we get to Santiago, the more it seems to be a tragedy that people were so near to their destination, and failed to complete the Camino. The ages on the monuments I have seen vary from 17 up to age 80-plus.
This strange symbol that’s been following me is finally revealed as something I’ve been putting up all along the way.
One truism in life is that luck is better than skill. We took a second break in a covered area just before the heaviest rain of the day. We lingered there for more than 30 minutes, hoping for a break in the weather.
The wind shifted and the temperature dropped, and we finally started out again. We still had two to three more changes of outerwear before we would be done for the day.
A small tidbit of information for anyone planning to do the Camino de Frances. Do not plan to spend the night in a very small town or remote location on a Sunday. There may be nothing open for food service.
Here in O Pino, there is one restaurant with six tables. There is much more demand than there is availability. Spence and I were very fortunate, as we went to dinner early and sat with a couple of English women who had stayed at our hotel the night before. Liz and Betsy were very gracious and we enjoyed our conversation with them. It's amazing what you can learn about someone over a meal.
I'll have to go back and re-watch the Emilio Estevez movie, The Way. I'm pretty sure the Bottle Café was in the movie, or in several YouTube videos I watched before making this trip. Located directly on the trail, it could not be mistaken for any other café. Hundreds and hundreds of empty beer bottles are propped upside down there in a design reminiscent of some type of freakish tree.
People who purchase the beverage can sign the bottle any way they want, and then place it as they leave. Fred, Beth, and I did not stop. Spence and Miriam did. It was a decision that would cause them to get caught in the rain again, when we were safely under the cover of our second rest stop.
One stop I did make along the trail was to buy a couple of small necklaces from an artist who was living under a tent. They had a very interesting stamp, a very fun donkey, that I wanted to include in my book.
Spence decided to try out the luxurious bathtub at our hotel in O Pino.
Clothes are washed, I’m showered, and now dinner is done. I enjoyed some pulpo as a first course. We ate early this evening so we could get a seat at the restaurant, and because we never had lunch.
Breakfast will be at 7:30 a.m. tomorrow to begin our last 21 km into Santiago de Compostela. In less than 13 miles, the journey will be complete.
It’s raining lightly outside now and the temperature is in the low 60s. It has a somber effect, and maybe that is appropriate to the end of the journey. I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to be feeling at this time. A sense of accomplishment? A longing for it to be done and to be on my way back home? Lessons that I might have learned about others and myself? Maybe all of the above. I'm too tired right now to get into deep reflection. That might take a few days of decompression.
I wonder if this last 13 miles tomorrow will speed by as quickly as all the days that have passed, or if every step will seem to take longer because we are approaching the finish line?