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Published: October 20th 2018
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There needs to be ‘Active Wear’ police on the Camino.
A total ban on women or men over 50 wearing active wear, no exceptions or exemptions. Since Sarria, it has become evident to me that many people, let’s call them women, don’t require the usual cumbersome trekking clothes that come with lugging a pack across the country, and step out dressed for a stroll to buy a coffee on Sunday morning.
We all reach an age where gravity and the viscosity of our muscles should dictate how we dress in public. I’m all for freedom, but it takes a long time to pass someone on a path, and active wear , in middle age, displays the entire body as active. In fact, some of it remains active after the person has stopped moving.
I don’t need to see that, nor does anyone else. I have enough to occupy my mind. Enough of this, but it needs to be said.
Breakfast this morning was at a small village, about 40 minutes after setting off in the dark.
There was some very steep hills today, but the paths were excellent, the weather was cold but clear, changing to
pleasantly warm, and I had a great blend of walking alone, or chatting with Dave, Janet, and Darcy.
Forests of Eucalyptus trees, pines, and oak trees passed by as the only sound was the crunching of the fine gravel as I walked.
There was no urgency to be anywhere as tonight we were booked into an Albergue 3.5kms past Palas de Rei .
The highlight for the day was definitely the small diversion from the official Camino, to visit the ruins of an Iron Age village, Castromayor, over 2000 years old.
It was just sunrise, and wandering among this excavation that housed people
going about their day, probably with the same desires and motivations as us, as the sun revealed the tight communal buildings was a treat that I hadn’t expected, until Dave pointed out that they were in the area.
Another possible lowlight of the day was when a cyclist was flying down the longest decline of the day, hooting with excitement, when a very slow car approached a corner that he was cutting the edge off. Braking ,a big diversion, and the slow speed of the car, were the only things that
prevented a possible fatality. Cars don’t usually go slowly in Spain.
After lunch in Palas de Rei, it was a short walk through dark shaded forests of oak trees before arriving in San Xulián , our stop for the night.
This is remote homey hamlet, with a church, some farm houses and the albergue.
We have a room for 4, our own bathroom, washing facilities, and dinner is at 7.30pm, sharp.
I’m putting my feet up for now, bye.
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