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BACK TO "THE WAY" IT USED TO BE
After my restful and indulgent time in Leon, it was admittedly a little hard to face my backpack again. So no surprise that I took my time repacking and organizing and enjoying the perks of hotel life as long as possible. But after three weeks of early starts, you start to feel a little lazy leaving anytime after 8:00 am -- so my 10 am checkout was getting really egregious. I was almost relieved to see other pilgrims hitting the road as late as me, just to alleviate my sense of sloth...it seems many took advantage of the creature comforts of big city life to wallow a bit.
Today was the sort of bright summery hot day we all expected to find on the Camino at this time of year; I hardly needed to layer at all, and had on my hat and a wet kerchief to cool the back of my neck in almost no time. The path led me out of Leon through the suburbs and onto a dirt track that wove between and under highway cloverleafs. From there it took me onto a senda, the gravel path running adjacent to the highway, for a long long time.
Luckily I had an engaging audiobook (Wodehouse) and excellent frame of mind to carry me along, so I passed through the chain of highwayside towns in good form and even better spirits at my usual steady 4km/h. In one town, someone had left a guest book and stamp along with baskets of peanuts, candies and other small snacks to cheer us on our journey. I really love -- am touched by -- how strangers encourage us all with gestures like that. I mean, it costs little to do it, and yet it is a little gift that means something to dozens and dozens of pilgrims who pass by every day -- a little thing, but a nice thing.
I got to the assigned destination for the day, a town called Villadangos, by 3 pm and sat to rest and consider. I could stop here as scheduled. But I was feeling strong despite the sweltering heat, and felt I would do well to adjust the schedule; take a bite out of tomorrow's long walk by going another 5 or 6k down the road to the next town, San Martin de Camino. It seemed an easy straight line continuing down the country highway, so I went for it, pleased to be feeling so energized after my legs were so exhausted yesterday.
As I went along, an Australian woman caught up to me and we fell to talking. Her name was Tralee, and she was doing the Camino after 8 years of waiting. I asked her what her family thought of her doing it, and she replied that her grown kids were all for it..and then added with startling candour, "But my husband was angry." Apparently, despite years of business trips over 20-odd years, he didn't love her disappearing for 8 weeks to Spain, then Paris and London on the way home. Obviously she'd come anyway, but it was only after quite a while on the road that he'd begun to see her photos and emails and begun to come round.
This really surprised me. There are far more single spouses than couples on the Camino, and while a majority are retirees, many have left behind small children. Yet most are here with the blessings of their partners, so to hear someone acknowledge that it was a difficult trip to negotiate was enlightening and interesting. I was grateful I hadn't had the same problem, and indeed had full encouragement to the point of cheerleading from home, despite the extended absence.
CHANGE OF PLANS
Tralee and I chatted to the edge of San Martin de Camino, at which point I should have dropped into the albergue on the entrance to town, while she continued on to her chosen destination one town down, Hospital de Orbigo. However, as I watched her go, and considered the hostel with people sunning themselves and drying their laundry in the heat, I realized, it's only 4 o'clock ... I didn't feel like I needed to quit yet. I decided I too wanted to push on just one town more, and take a chunk out of the next day's walk while the energy was still there.
But first, I needed a break, and a drink. So I stopped at the first opportunity at a cafe and discovered Tralee had stopped there too. She invited me to join her for a drink, and I discovered a great alternative to beer -- a "mixta" or shandy, with all the flavour and satisfaction of a cold beer on a hot day but tastier and lighter. I'm definitely a convert.
We had a nice half hour break, and then set out to finish the last 7K separately, since, like a great many people, Tralee walks faster than me. And this is when the folly of my capricious planning caught up to me. I have not yet learned that I cannot end a long day of walking with a 7K stretch; psychologically it is just a titch too taxing a distance at the end of the day. And I also need to remember that while at home, the hottest part of the day is 12- 2pm, here it is the 3-5pm window that i was embarking into. However, when I started the last walk of the day, I had conveniently forgotten all of that. But it caught up to me soon enough.
The first half hour walking alongside the highway was fine. The next started to get taxing, as fatigue set in...after all, it was turning into a 30K day, which is about my max. And as the path wore on, and I couldn't see where this was going to, I really started to drag. I wanted so badly to stop, but I knew if I did I wouldn't get up again for a while -- and I needed to find a place to stay for the night. So I kept going, while under my breath I played "WHERE IS THE TOWN?!" through gritted teeth.
As it turned out, this was one of those occasions where the Camino plays its beloved trick of suddenly taking a turn when you thought it was going to continue straight, and so an unexpected right showed me the old industrial tower that I knew was on the edge of Hospital de Orbigo....ohthankGod. I trudged through the village to the edge of the massive, medieval, cobbled bridge of 20 arches that spans well over the river onto grass and over jousting plains into the old town. It is truly a marvel, and feels like a kilometre long, in spectacular shape and a singular landmark dating back centuries. But to me at that moment, it was one more massive stretch I had to cross before I had any hope of finding a bed at 7 pm.
The first albergue I Inquired at was full, and so I blundered around the old centre of town trying to find another. It's actually comically easy; there are about four off the main road a little ways straight off the bridge. But in my exhausted, muscle-aching state I was practically delirious with fatigue and so preoccupied with wanting to lie down I almost couldn't focus. Luckily a Spanish guy I have seen often along the Way sauntered by looking very refreshed and relaxed, and when he recognized me and waved, and I answered with a plaintive, "Albergue?" he quickly pointed me down the street. I fairly tumbled Into a walled garden and found a bed in a German run hostel where they played 60's music to set the relaxing move. Home, for tonight anyway.
It being after 7, I was too tired to eat any dinner; for the first time, I couldn't even be bothered to shower. All I wanted was to unroll my sleepsack and rest my aching legs. But it seemed a shame not to see SOMEthing of the pretty town I'd worked so hard to get to...so after a brief rest I went out to take a look around and buy a few fruits and snacks for the morning when I would surely be hungrier. Admittedly I was pretty bagged, but I did actually appreciate the quiet relaxed vibe of the ancient town and how nicely it was maintained. Well, at least I saw it, even if I wouldn't be there long enough to really enjoy it.
TALKING TO STRANGERS
By 8 I was back at the albergue and aiming to get into bed at long last. Given that it was still early (even by pilgrim standards), I thought I'd be the first one to do so. But when I came into the room I was surprised to find another girl also all bundled up in bed in a bunk on the opposite side of the room.
"Hi," she said as I started prepping for bed. "Where're you from?"
"Canada, " I replied. "Toronto."
"Really?" She sat up with unusual interest in her voice. "Do you like it there?"
It was such a funny question I didn't know how to answer at first. "Well, I'm born and bred and live there, so I guess so." I shrugged and laughed and resumed unpacking."Why?"
"I was just thinking about maybe moving there...I'm sort of thinking about maybe making a change from living in Los Angeles and -- well, do you know this movie TAKE THIS WALTZ?"
Now that WAS funny. "Actually, " I told her, "I just downloaded it to my ipad two days ago because I have been meaning to see it for ages. "
Alison, as her name proved to be, had apparently seen the indie movie by Sarah Polley and was enchanted by how it portrayed Toronto in the summer, and since she was In film and media it had intrigued her as a possible new home. Kind of a crazy coincidence, eh? And yet, so typical a Camino encounter. So I did the Camino thing: I told her to get out her phone and type in my name and email address. "If you ever want to check Toronto out, " I said, "let me know and come visit. You can stay in our condo guest suite, which is almost like having a hotel room but with people you know nearby, and you can just hang out, no pressure, and see what you think of the city." It felt like the normallest thing in the world to invite someone I'd known for literally five minutes to come stay for a visit, and utterly mean it in all sincerity. That's the Camino for you!
I'm sure Alison was little taken aback by the invitation, but not put off enough to stop talking, so we chatted a little more and empathized about that feeling of how some days, after walking, you just want to get into bed and stay there. I dozed off as other people drifted in, feeling a little better about the hard day of walking and happy to have met some new people along the way. It does help sometimes not to walk completely alone.
Not a big photo day, but I've added a few shots to give you a sense of Orbigo.
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