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Published: October 7th 2018
I entered the room and there was an Italian, an American, and a Norwegian woman talking on a bed.
I know it sounds like the start of one of those corny jokes but this was my bedroom and these were my room mates.
The Italian was having relationship problems, was borderline depressed, and had sought counseling from the others. Then I joined in.
This man was pining for a woman he had been seeing for 8 months and appeared to be having a ‘ pause’ from him. The reality I learnt was, the woman was married with 2 children and a husband, and Mr Upset was in a long term relationship of 14 years; that is until she learnt of his new love.
His long term partner was boring and had become like a mother and sister, he said.
That’s great, you’ve got the whole package, I said.
His new love was bored at home in an unexciting relationship, while they were passionately in love, he said.
Maybe because you two just have good times and fun, while they deal with 2 kids, a mortgage, car loans and life’s other pressures, I said.
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It would be more inclined to turn me off.Oh, he said.
The way I see it, you’re having an affair with a married woman, who has decided to give her marriage another go, while your partner found out and dumped you, I said.
But I......., he said
No, move to Australia, get a job pulling coffees at Brunettis, the Australian girls will love you, I said.
Goodnight, I said.
The truth be known, if the married woman had spent a night with him, she went cold on him when she realised that his snoring made Mt Vesuvius sound like a ‘bubble’ in a bath.
The Norwegian woman thought my advice was fair and to the point, so he decided to end it. Now he’s really depressed.
Also last night. While I was in the bar tapping out my Blog I overheard an interesting conversaction between the owner and a rude pilgrim.
Why do people think they have a god given right to a bed, just because their luggage was transported by bus to the albergue earlier that day.
An American woman, I won’t call her a lady, walked up to the reception desk and enquired about her beds; she
The First Bar.
After 6kms by 8am, this was a welcome top up for €5. Breakfast of tortilla, tomato with rock salt drizzled with olive oil, and a coffee. And €5 is probably a bit pricey for Spain had no booking and it was late afternoon. Carmen, the host, told her there were 3 top bunks left in different rooms.
Tell me your kidding, the woman snarled back.
Bags arriving are not a booking, and the 3 bunks were it for the day, Carmen replied, holding her ground.
I don’t sleep on top bunks, it’s not negotiable, the woman replied. After 15 minutes of this, they grabbed their bags and left in a huff.
She is the first rude person I have encountered and I think she needs to walk more, and chill out before Santiago.
This morning I arose 40 minute early because of the snoring and hit the road at 7am. It was about 1°c, and the breeze cut through my clothes as I left the protection of the village to follow the stars.
The sky was ablaze with twinkling lights, and the Milky Way is very important for the Camino. The term Compostela is literally, field of stars, and ancient pilgrims used to follow the Milky Way all the way to Santiago. It was said to give them strength.
In using stars, I assume that they walked at
night with a candle on their head, as a precursor to our modern headlamps.
The stars this morning were complimented by hundreds of sparkling lights on the wind turbines along the distant mountain ridges. It reminded me Christmas is just around the corner after I return home.
The early morning sun shone across the ploughed fields and gave the impression of dark burnt orange corrugated sheets. The light plays tricks and the changing terrain is the only variation, as the morning light has been very consistent so far.
The most calming, interesting part of the day is gone when the sun is high, and today the walk developed into a task that just had to be done. I wore sandals all day, and although the foot fatigue is not too painful, your feet heat up and remain that way into the night.
Mark, the German guy I was walking with was loudly willing his sore body to the finish line. Mark is a dedicated nondenominational Christian who will walk 4000 kms to Jerusalem next year and wants to open an alternative religious centre there. Very interesting.
My booking in the private albergue was stuffed up
Walking Into Sahagun
The first few hours were nice but the stoney long road ahead was just past Sahagun. by me, as I never confirmed the offer. I asked for a booking, saw the positive reply, but didn’t translate the final sentence. It wanted confirmation.
That’s OK. I’m now in the municipal albergue for €11 less and it is just perfect; hot showers, comfortable bunks, and friendly, elderly volunteer hostesses from Ireland. They are typical Irish, and I can hear them talking to some Irish pilgrims right now, boasting about the high life here and how they’re living the dream.
I visited the local store today, it was locked, but saw the owner eating lunch in his attached house. I knocked on his kitchen door, let myself in, and asked him if he was open.
He leapt up and led me to the locked shop.
A very unique and eclectic arrangement of goods were displayed and every so often he would flick open a fridge door and stand back as if revealing a super prize in a quiz show. The service was first class, and the ingredients I was going to make rolls with, he put together for me. I sampled the cheese, the jamon, and I could have been his biggest customer of the
For Sale : A Bargain
I bought it on a 60 day settlement, Sue. Start packing. day; €10.50. That’s today and tomorrow’s lunches, fruit, drinks and Doritos.
Who’s living the dream now?
Dinner is at the other albergue at 7 and then I’m in bed early, ready for another isolated 17kms on a Roman Road as part of a 24.5km day to Mansilla De Las Mulas.
That will be the last day before an easy walk into León for a well deserved rest day.
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