We have crossed the Meseta and heading for the hills of Galicia. Astorga sits at the boundary of both. We walked the flat lands to Astorga, climbed up
Into the city and will climb out of the city up into the hills from there.
We were planning to get up early and start this morning, but the host serves breakfast as part of the fee for the night starting at 7:00pm. This was one of our most expensive night at €93 for the three of us so we decided to stay for breakfast.
After taping Sally’s feet and packing we brought our packs down the one floor to the common area a little after 7:00am. She had a huge table with room for 12 set with yogurt, milk, hard boiled eggs, jams and marmalade, orange juice, tea and coffee, toast and corn flakes. It was a tight squeeze between the wall and chairs on the back side so we made sure we had gathered all we wanted to eat before we slithered into our chairs. There was little to no conversation when we arrived. Sally quickly put an end to that by asking questions and inviting people to talk. She is really good at that.
After eating I shouldered my pack and headed out the door. As arranged yesterday, I would hike by myself today at my own pace. Sally would hike at hers. Becky at hers.
Once on the streets I quickly regained the Way found my pace heading out of town. It was a cool 52°, perfect for walking. The Way heads slightly uphill all day, following a rounded ridge up to Rabanal and passing through three little towns on the way. I put in my headphones and listened to Mitchner’s Iberia for a few miles, then switch to Cryptonomicon. Since I was moving at about the pace of everyone else I didn’t pass people too often, nor did they pass me. To be truthful, this morning I was on people overload and was not interested in conversing.
At about 5.5 miles I walked I to a little town. There were people everywhere in the red chairs enjoying a coffee and a pastry. I walked by them all and found an isolaybench and sat down, but soon realized the stream of people was passing me by. I didn’t want to seem rude and ignore everyone so I continued up the Way a little bit, found a secluded, walled public space and stepped in. I sat on a stone bench, my back against the wall, the morning sun on my face and listened to my book, ate a chunk of bread and drank a bottle of propel, all by myself. It was kind of nice. After 15-20 minutes I was back in the flow of pilgrims.
At some point I caught up with Pierre Trudeau from Montreal. Not that Pierre Trudeau, just plain citizen Trudeau. We had met him before Sahagún a week ago but had not seen him since. He is memorable for many reasons. He is a big man, a little overweight with a round face and an amazing laugh which is infectious. I walked the last three or four miles into Rabanal with him. He owns a ski cottage at a resort near his home in Montreal and remodeled it so it sleeps 16 to accommodate his family and grandkids. He goes every weekend during ski season and says it is the best purchase he has ever made because it brings his family closer together.
We walked into Rabanal about 12:15pm. I registered at the first bar for my room further up in town, then sat down with Pierre at an outside table. Tom the retired Chicago cop soon joined us. After about 30 minutes I excused myself and walked the remaining half mile into the main square and found our building, stopping in a tiny grocery store for bread, cheese a banana and a chocolate bar for Becky. It’s her birthday today. I was told the room wouldn’t be ready until 2:00pm so I sat I the square and had lunch. It was cool in the shade of the trees in the square so I moved to the sun.
Once in the room I took a shower and then relaxed on the bed reading and writing my blog.
Sally and Becky arrived about 3:30pm. We wandered to a grocery about 5:15pm. It turns out there are 3 small grocery stores
in this tiny town. Before we were done we had visited all three, deciding on spaghetti with bolonase sauce for dinner.
Back at the albergue we tried to use the induction stove, but it was blinking what looked like an error code and we couldn’t console it into operation. We called the owner/manager(?). She came immediately, inspected the problem and immediacy retrieved a hair dryer and started heating the underside of the unit through the open cabinet. After about five minutes without resolution of the problem she through the circuit breaker to reset the stove. Didn’t fix it. She then left for a few minutes and returned with a single burner portable induction hotplate for us to cook our dinner on.
After eating we walked to the bar next door, the place we had stayed at last time we were here, set up some chocolate coated sponge cakes remix of Twinkies without the creamy filling, stuck candles in them, bought Becky a beer and everyone in the room sang happy birthday to Becky. One of the South Korean men she had met days earlier apologized in broken English for some unknown reason and on blistered feet hobbled out of the bar. He was back in about ten minutes. He had limped to one of the groceries and bought Becky a can of beer for her birthday.
We retired to our room and called it a day. It was a good one!
My attempt at an artsy photo of a door and window
Myself and Pierre in Rabanal
Becky with her birthday cake and beer. The bar had candles 4 and 3. We had acquired four regular candles. If you add two regular candles in the tens column that gets us to sixty and two regular candles in the ones column that gets us to five, or 65, the correct count for her birthday. Notice the Camino sign on the wall behind. Good staging.
No comments:
Post a Comment