My friend and one-time newspaper colleague Bill Osborne writes: “You’re definitely not boring, but here’s a suggestion you might address: Why did you decide to make this trek? What did you expect or want to get out of it? Now that the end is in sight, what have you gotten out of it? What have you learned about yourself?”
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Thirty kilometers today, to Arzua. The post right outside my auberge tonight says 39.123 kilometers (Yes, that precise) to Santiago.
If the rest of it is as delightful as today, I’m ok with it.
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This day can only unravel in reverse, because its still getting better and it is only 8:30 pm
Over in the corner, Andrew and Englishman is playing harmonica and another pilgrim is softly strumming a guitar. They are working out a gentle tune of their own making.
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From Foncebadon, the walk to Cruz de Ferro was all uphill, but short. Less than two kilometers.
It was dark, but already the sun was prying itself free from the horizon.
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Just after Hospital de Orbrigo, the Camino road offered two paths to Astorga.
Straight ahead promises more of the same as yesterday — highway traffic just feet away, but a relatively flat and shorter route to tonight’s destination. it is the traditional Camino Frances route.
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Today went by blazingly fast. So fast, it is barely half done and the walk is over.
The walk between Bercianos Del Real Camino and Mansilla de las Mulas was 17 miles and for the first time since I started, I arrived at my auberge before check-in time.
That called for a coffee and pastry at the adjacent cafe.
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My bunk-room mates settled the issue for me this morning in Belorado: Should I get up early for the 18 mile walk to Ages or start late and cope with the afternoon sun?
The rustling and zipping of bags, dropping of electronics in the dark, scurrying to the bathroom, the burst of red light from headlamps — it all began before 5 a.m.
That’s ok. I wasn’t sleeping much anyway.
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Last night in Santo Domingo, a woman from Wisconsin handed me a “tree of life” sticker which I promptly pasted on the back of my iPhone case. Next to the one from DeYoung museum in San Francisco.
She handed them out several of them to people in our auberge bunk room.
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It was a smart move to end yesterday in the little village of Ventosa and stay at the Auberge San Saturnino.
I got to end the day early and reorganize my backpack for the 30th time. Have I mentioned this phenomena? No matter how many ways I move things around in the backpack, it never gets lighter.
Science. So amazing.
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So, it’s my right knee.
These things happen. How? I have no idea. I wasn’t jumping fences or rock hopping.
I mean, this is the Camino, right?
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