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Published: October 26th 2018
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Boots And Roots, Santiago
Beds made and folded back. I’ll bet Tim doesn’t get this in Luxembourg. Everyone has gone home.
I woke this morning with no plan for the day. I’m really just waiting to meet Tim and start walking tomorrow.
I had breakfast with Maryanne and Margaret Caffyn, the author of a book on the Camino. She spoke of the different routes she has walked, and has been in Santiago for a month. She bought a luxury tour group over. Agnes met us later and we visited the local fresh produce market so she could stock up on cheese and meat to take back to Germany.
The markets run off a central square and the enclosed stone corridors are divided into meat, fish, vegetables, and cheeses.
It’s an older version of the Victoria Market in Melbourne but more symmetrically arranged.
The flower stalls fought a losing battle with smell of the fish market, that assaulted your senses at every turn. Fish never smells good. The range of everything is very similar to home, but stalls dedicated to cheeses and processed small goods are more common, with a wider variety and more interesting displays.
I left Agnes with a load of food destined for Germany and picked up my backpack at the monastery to transfer it to
Maryanne, Steve, Lisa, and Agnes
The last of our tribe left in town. my new home. This morning I loaded my small collapsible backpack with things I won’t need for the next 5 days, and the monastery will store it until I return on the 1 November. I think my pack is at least 2 kgs lighter, so Tim better bring his best game. Some of that stuff could have been left at home. I carried it 780kms with little benefit.
This afternoon I wandered the jewellery stores sussing out a gift for Sue, with a bit more research to be done there, visited the Cathedral when it was quiet, and sat in the Plaza watching excited pilgrims end their walk. People hugging, looking delighted to recognise fellow travellers, and lying down on the cold stone pavers to soak in the atmosphere. It’s wonderful to watch the out pouring of emotion, as up to 5 weeks of hard times, great times and usually a fair dose of pain, melts away as they first view the Cathedral. A long held dream has come true, and people who doubted they could do it, must now wonder what else is ahead.
After an unsuccessful attempt at simplifying, and reducing the weight of my chargers,
I went to the Church of San Martin Pinario, located behind the Monastery. It was first commenced in the 6th Century but the monks were expelled from the city and it was rebuilt from the 16th Century into the leading research centre for science and pharmacy, and was a printing hub, producing books and manuscripts which developed into an important library.
The church has been recently restored and now serves as a valuable museum and historical religious centre. It is an eerie feeling for me, walking the halls of medieval buildings, passing through worn, metre thick granite doorways, and being guided up ancient stairways, lightly hollowed out by years of footprints. Running my hands up rust pitted metal handrails, now cleaned up to a black shine, leading me through a labyrinth of passages into rooms with vaulted carved stone ceilings, and priceless treasures on open display. All that for €3. I didn’t have my credentials but the woman believed I was a pilgrim. I must look buggered, so I received the concession ticket. Or I look old, disabled , unemployed, or one of the other criteria that applies. All of the above, I think.
I’m now perched in
the Monastery Lounge Area, it’s 7.30 pm, and I need the Wifi here to hear from Tim when he’s on the bus. I may go to the Albergue, about 15 minutes away, and come back as his plane lands. I have some feet to tape up, and might even fit in a lie down.
A short 22 kms tomorrow, and rain is predicted. In fact, it will rain every day we walk except Sunday. Wonderful !
Hopefully the weather bureau are similar to Australia‘s, and often get it wrong .
We’ll be walking either way so it is what it is. Bye for now. Hopefully some dry news tomorrow.
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