Fully Saturated
I was the only one in the breakfast room when I arrived a little before 8:00 a.m. It was a solid offering. I knew that the opportunity to grab food later would be a challenge, so I probably overdid it a little, eating eggs, yogurt, cereal, toast, and some fruit. I figured I would catch coffee later somewhere to get out of the rain. It was definitely going to rain.
Once I was over the river it was only another 10 minutes before I was on the trail. Almost immediately, I saw socks stacked on the wall. They looked freshly laundered and folded nicely. Some poor individual is going to open their backpack this evening and discover they're gone. It will be even more of a problem if they can't dry out the socks that they wore today.
Less than five minutes later, the trail turned into a stream. Luckily, there was a stone ledge along the left side to keep my feet dry. That ledge disappeared as the trail crossed the first road. Now with few exceptions it was off-road for the remainder of the day.
I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Dave. He is from Blackburn in England. It was interesting to hear about his lifestyle. He works four 12-hour shifts a week at a factory that manufactures high-end wallpaper for the company Graham and Brown. The long shifts earn him some significant time off. There were several blocks of 18 days in a row that he earned for vacation each year. He frequently hikes Scotland and made it clear his favorite part was scaling the hills. He had hiking down to a science. He brought only what he needed and it was a surprise to see him pop open an umbrella when it started to rain.
About 30 minutes later, when the sky cleared up, Dave realized his umbrella had fallen off his pack. He retraced his steps and I continued on down the trail. Dave caught up to me at my coffee stop, happily back in possession of his umbrella.
As we were finishing up our coffees, a lone traveler named Sarah approached our table. We were all three wet and cold but intent on completing the day's walk. Sarah has two teenage boys at home and she bargained with her husband to get a couple of weeks off to make a trip to Europe. She wound up with 19 days to do the Camino from Porto to Santiago.
As we spoke, we shared professions. She lives in the Hudson Valley and is a writer by trade. With her permission, I'm including her last name, Dunn. She is a very prolific writer and has worked on and created several popular TV shows. I ordered a book of hers when I got to my hotel this afternoon.
It rained and stopped, and rained and stopped. Finally we decided it was time to move on. There was never going to be a perfect time to stay dry for the remainder of the day. We changed into dry socks and I was the first to leave the cafe. Truly, meeting such interesting people with different lifestyles is the magic of the Camino. We all stayed in different places for the night, and I look forward to running into them again on the remainder of the trail.
A quick side note: This was the last stop before arriving at my lodgings for the night. There are very few options for dining at the top of the mountain. The guide book had suggested stocking up on any supplies at this location. But based on the pungent odor and the number of flies inside the building, I decided against any purchases beyond my coffee.
Once I started back on the trail I didn't get a hundred yards before the skies opened up and my dry socks were now sponges. Yesterday I talked about how moisture in the air can become saturated as it rains. Today I discovered what full saturation of a human being feels like. After a while, I just didn't care. I couldn't get any wetter and the views, when the rain showers allowed, were incredible.
The trail became a little more of a challenge as the angle of ascent increased. Further complicating things was the amount of rainwater rushing down the hill, gathering right in the trail. The rocks were jagged and slippery, and the footing unsure several times. There wasn't much mud because the loose soil had been swept away by so many previous downpours. Trees had fallen across the path, and in some places I had to pause to see exactly which way the trail led. It was interesting to see the particular places someone had chosen to spray paint the yellow arrows marking the way.
As I crossed through one of the muddy areas I found a huge mushroom. My foot is included in the picture to set the scale.
In some of the lower areas, puddles blocked the entire trail. That’s when I relied on my trekking poles. There were multiple times where I would plant them in 4 to 6 inches of water, and then use them to support my weight as I pushed my way onto a dryer surface, It didn't occur to me until afterwards that I was trusting my off-brand Chinese import trekking poles to support my 190 pounds. They did and I was pleased. I did not want to wind up with a collapsed pole and a bath in a mud puddle.
As I got closer to the top of the hill, I came across a stone crucifix. It was very reminiscent of the Iron Cross I saw on the Camino de Frances. There were hundreds of items left in memory of those who had passed: pictures, bracelets, articles of clothing, and stones with names written upon them. On one level, it was sad to know that these people had died. But also, when they were alive somebody cared for them deeply. That made me believe their lives had meaning.
Shortly after passing the cross I reached the top of the trail. Most of it was downhill now and just a matter of time until I got to my destination. My hotel was actually off the trail, and the proprietor sent me information via WhatsApp so I wouldn't get lost. I managed to get lost anyway. Google maps sent me in a different direction. Ultimately, Isabel found me on the highway and drove me back to the hotel. It turns out I’d walked right past it.
Isabel had English skills just slightly better than my Portuguese. We communicated pretty well in Spanish, and used the translation mode on our phones. The first thing she offered me when I got into the lobby was a place to put my sneakers so they would dry out. The second thing was a glass of port. I imagine that was to dry me out a little bit.
We arranged for her to take me down the road to a restaurant at 7:00 p.m. to get some takeout for dinner. Then it was the normal routine: wash the clothes, take my shower … but then there was a twist. There was no hair dryer or towel warmer in the bathroom. Fortunately Isabel set up a rack in front of the wood-burning stove so I could dry my clothes.
It turns out I’m not just coming through at the tail end of tourist season. I might be the tail end of tourist season. Isabel told me they have no bookings tomorrow and had none yesterday. Like In the story The Shining, I am the only one in this hotel tonight. Redrum.
It was a 10-minute drive down a very dark highway to get to the restaurant. Food was waiting for me when I arrived. For 10 euro I got vegetable soup, some bread, three grilled chicken breasts, way too many French fries, some rice, and some salad. It was perfect. Even better than perfect, Isabel set me up by the wood burning stove in front of the TV and brought me a bottle of local wine to enjoy. One glass was plenty.
Tomorrow is mostly downhill and will be mostly in the rain. But the really big news is that tomorrow I will enter Spain.
