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Published: October 28th 2018
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I’m over this !
I love the walking.
I love the weather, even when it hails and is cold.
I’m over the dense, warm, smelly atmosphere that you encounter when you re-enter your dormitory after a late night bathroom visit. You could slice the air with a knife; some nights are worse than others. Last night was bad. I couldn’t fall asleep after 3am, in a room of about 26 people, all with dodgy diets, if you know what I mean. Snoring was not a big issue; it was me, filtering this recycled air through my parched mouth, and no doubt contributing to this torment. The only other place I’ve really noticed it was in O Cebreiro, where a particular NZ lady wouldn’t permit us to let in some fresh air. It hits you like a whack in the face with a wet nappy ( diaper for my American friends).
I’m also tired of wearing the same bland hiking gear, day in day out. I’m not known for having fashion sense, but even I like to choose from more than 2 shirts and 2 pairs of pants. To be fair, I can unzip the legs from the
One Of Many Hamlets ...
......we passed through during the day. pants to make them shorts. Wow.
These relatively first world problems, and having to tiptoe around getting ready in the dark so as not to wake people, are my only gripe after almost 40 days of doing this.
The blisters, sore ribs from carrying 11kgs on my back all day, the weather, no green vegetables to be seen, no toilet when you need it; this is all no worries. It’s pouring outside right now, and the small ripples of water running by the cowsheds opposite from my window look wonderful. If it doesn’t stop, I’m out walking in it tomorrow. That’s a little inconvenient, but it’s OK.
Well, that’s my moan for the day. It’s just the bad air. It’s clouding my judgement, and my room. It infiltrated my brain and had me thinking negatively. Sorry.
Tonight we have a private room.
I know the sun will come up tomorrow.
Daylight saving started here today, and resulted in a late start to walk. It was all uphill and down dales, and Tim developed a problem with his knee. Vitamin Ibuprofen is at hand, and I have a couple of elasticised supports that may help,
Soft, Sunlit Trees
The weather varied all day, but started with bright optimism and few clouds. but tomorrow will be the test. I’m sure it’s those deficient McKenna genes acting up again.
The fine forecast today revealed rain, a short burst of hail, sunshine, and fierce winds. I thought I heard thunder as well but it was only the ever present hunters firing shotguns. I hope they consider where those bullets continue onto in the event of a miss. Three men, hopefully at the end of a morning’s shoot, were passing around a bota bag, which is a traditional spanish drinking vessel made from goats skin and are with goats bladders. Regardless, they still had to drive home , so we stood well off the track when they drove past.
A few lucky stops saw us avoid some of the worst showers, and gave our feet a good airing. It’s acceptable to remove your boots in a bar while you have a coffee. Maybe it’s just a Camino thing.
We arrived at Albergue Monte Aro at about 3pm, and with the prediction for rain for the rest of the day, this was our destination. It’s only 3 months old, everything works and is shiny and new; it’s heaven. The hostess is very friendly,
A Spanish Trunk Call.
This heavy slice of eucalyptus tree was suspended high up in some sort of cables. In a freshly cut forest, it must have fallen badly, and no one was prepared to free it and risk electrocution.
Note: Anyone under 50 can google ‘trunk call’. dinner is at 7pm, and no getting dressed in the dark tomorrow.
I’m feeling brighter already.
I’m looking forward to going home, but there’s still a bit of work to do here, so I’ll keep walking.
Catch you tomorrow from Cee, a quiet coastal town with a tiny protected harbour and a fleet of classic double ended fishing boats, common to many Mediterranean fleets. Maybe there’s a Gaelic influence as well, I’m only guessing.
After that, it’s 15kms to Finisterre, and another 28kms to Muxia. The End.
Ciao for now.
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Home and Away
Bob Carlsen
For a bit of perspective...
I have an ultra marathon runner who ran the 90 km from Santiago to Finisterre in one day. I hope your son is being patient.