Forty Miles Away

I was up before the 7 a.m. alarm again this morning. Part of my routine is to cut on the TV, just to have some background noise as I get ready. In Portugal, there seemed to be one common cable system, and the stations were identical in pretty much every hotel. There were several options that offered programs in English – mostly movies and news with an occasional TV show from Britain. In Spain, the programming is not as consistent and it is difficult to find anything in English.

This morning I flipped the channels until I found what appeared to be a pretty mediocre soap opera of sorts. The acting was stilted and the plot line was thin and fairly uninteresting. The reason became clear when they shifted away from the scene and I realized that it was English language lessons. Regardless, I kept the station on as I got started with my day.  Besides, I wanted to see if Timmy and Cindy wound up agreeing on what flavor cake to get for their wedding reception.

I believe there were only four people in the hotel last night. Each of us was there to do the Camino.  It turns out that Sarah, the author, was staying at the same hotel. We had booked through totally different travel agencies. I suspect that while there may be six or eight websites with different names, it really comes down to one group that does all the booking.

The other two pilgrims were not really conversational. It didn't matter. The ride from the hotel back to the center of town where we would rejoin the trail was less than 10 minutes. The two strangers took off independently.  Sarah and I began today's walk together.

Most of today's Camino was on some beautiful trail. There were stretches along some busy roads. Fortunately, that didn't last too long. The weather held for the first 90 minutes. Just by luck, we took our first coffee break as the rain really started to come down. We would make a total of three stops in the 14 miles to Arcade. Each time we took a break, we made certain to keep our eyes on the trail in the hopes that we would see Dave come walking by. Unfortunately, we did not see him at all today. There can be a simple answer. He could have started earlier or later and he is fine. In the absence of any other information, I'll choose to go with that. Maybe I will see him tomorrow.

There were a few steep hills to climb but they passed quickly. Some of the downslope was more treacherous as the rain made the cobblestones very slippery. Any concerns or gripes faded quickly in appreciation of the scenery afforded to us today. It is very difficult to convey what it's like to come around the corner and have the valley open up in front of you.

The hotel for tonight is located right on the trail. As soon as you walk out the front door you are on the Camino. I did the wash and took a shower. There was no hair dryer, so I pressed as much moisture out of the clothing as I could using a towel, and hoped for the best. With my required work done in the room, I headed down the street to the grocery store, where I grabbed some bottled water and fruit.  I also purchased turkey meat and some cheese.  Today was a little short on protein.

At the checkout counter, the owner engaged me in conversation, sort of. In Spanish, he told me that he spoke no English.  He continued and told me I was lucky because English is spoken most everywhere. In marginal Spanish, I responded that I was lucky in that way. But also that I was making an effort, out of respect, to try to speak his language in his country. I think he liked that. Either that or he was only distracting me and overcharged me for my groceries. Either way, we were both happy as I walked out the door.

None of the restaurants opened until around 8:30 p.m. in this area. It rained heavily at about 7:30, so I decided to simply grab something at the restaurant attached to the hotel. Nothing on the menu really appealed to me. I defaulted to a pulpo (octopus) pizza, which was adequate. I'm really looking forward to Pontevedra tomorrow. It's only about an eight-mile walk and there should be some great restaurants where I can treat myself to something better than bar food.

There are only about 40 miles to go before I reach Santiago. I received a WhatsApp message from Mattias, the Swede, indicating that he arrived there today.