Uncle

Last night I had a solid plan -- I would taxi the 16.5 miles from Bercianos to Mansilla, and I would take my backpack with me rather than shipping it. Then I decided I didn't want to have to carry my pack around town while waiting for everyone else to arrive, so I tried to schedule a pickup, but it was too late. No worries. I'd go old school -- stick the money in the envelope, tie it to my pack, and leave it with all the others.

I walked out of the albergue around 7 am but decided just in case I should wait for the JacoTrans guy to come to be sure he'd take it. Plus I still needed to get a taxi. Two problems here. One, even though bags have to be out by 8 am, I don't know what time they actually pick up, and two, there is not a soul to be found to help me call for a taxi. Which I then realized probably doesn't exist in this population 250 town.

I left the bag on an act of faith, and I walked. I walked in my sandals because I'd already packed my shoes at the very bottom of my pack, not planning to need them at all. Hiking in sandals is very common, usually to give blisters a break from the rubbing or when your feet swell so that laced shoes are too uncomfortable. I just did it 'cause I'm lazy.

The first town was only 4.5 miles away. I knew once I got there things would be open and a taxi could be had. The stretch after was nine miles of nothing, and I didn't want to risk getting too miserable with no options. It was a quiet, mostly uninteresting walk, which I managed okay in under two hours.

Once in town I dropped my poles and daypack at a table and went to find the bathroom. A woman in a short walking boot was waiting, so I asked if she was actually walking today. When she said no, she was going to grab a taxi I asked if she wanted to share. I had coffee and a pastry, and we chatted for about 30 minutes until it came. It felt weird driving by pilgrims and through towns, and 15 minutes later we were in Mansilla. When we stopped at her hostel, she wouldn't even let me give her any money.

I had at least three hours before I could even think of seeing Kathy and Mim and one more before we could check in to the apartment. I hung out in a cafe for a bit and updated the spelling of albergue throughout here before going to Mass. We've seen posters often in the last few towns for the Festival of Corpus Christi. There was a procession of children in to Mass, then afterwards they sprinkled flower petals on the street while the priest processed with the monstrance, followed by the parishioners. I'm not sure how far they processed because I dropped out when we passed the hostel we'd been dropped off at this morning and went in for tortilla and a beer.

Kathy and Mim arrived, and it was the moment of truth -- had my bag arrived? It had, but because we'd shipped to an albergue at which we are not staying we had to pay three Euros each to get them out of hock. Small price.

Around 4:30 we met Tom and Yvonne at the hostel I'd had lunch at since they offer a pilgrim's meal. At 7:30. Googled someplace else. Closed until 6:40 (oddly specific). Not only is it Sunday, but it's a festival day, so even less than usual is open. We were directed to another open albergue and assured they would have food, which they would -- at 6 pm. It was 4:55, so we ordered drinks and settled down to wait. I think they took pity on us, because around 5:15 they said we could order.

We invited another pilgrim we'd been talking to to sit with us, and then another sitting alone asked if she could join, so we met some new folks, although the woman, Margaret from Germany, is biking and leaves in a couple of days. Stephen is on his ninth Camino -- this is his fifth Francés, and he's done the Portuguese route four times.

During the conversation it somehow came up that the lovely woman with whom I'd shared a taxi was actually one of the Camino People about whom we tell stories. I'd seen her only briefly once before so had no idea she was the one who'd insulted Yvonne very early in the trip.

I've set up my bag transfer for tomorrow in plenty of time. It's a 12 mile walk into León, and I do plan to walk. Footwear TBD. I have a hotel booked there and one in the town after. I see an osteopath for a massage on Tuesday (thanks to my blister-shin-splint soul sister Melissa) before heading to Villedangos; I'll wait to see what he has to say before I determine if I should make any adjustments to my stage lengths going forward.Read more