The Sheep Was The Highlight of My Day

Before we left this morning, I read the Buen Camino app description of this stage: “The penultimate stretch is a transition stage. It's a simple section without major slopes, where pilgrims start to adopt a more relaxed attitude as they sense that the journey is coming to an end.”

One — what do they consider major, because first thing out of the hostel I was going uphill. Of course, anything higher than a speed bump I consider elevation.

Two — my attitude, it was not relaxed. I was distinctly cranky most of the day and had to keep reminding myself, “It’s a pilgrimage; it’s a pilgrimage.”
And who started it today? A nun.

We had our coffee at the last stop in Arzúa, then headed down the hill out of town. Mim and Kathy were chatting with some fellow pilgrims, and I spotted the place where sisters of the Daughters of St. Mary Province (Guanellians) stamp credentials. I stopped in to say hello, but she was all business, hand out for my passport. She then smacked down two different stamps, taking up some valuable real estate on the last page of this book. This is the second time I’ve been given — unasked — two-for-one religious-related stamps. Although I suppose I should be happy, since it’s helping my bar-to-church ratio look better.

I harrumphed off to catch up.

That was not easy, because both feet are being problematic, and that felt very long. I keep telling them how few miles we have left, and they kept telling me how over it they are. One more day, feet. Just 12 more miles.

We stopped for second breakfast at a very cute place. Most places are along this stretch from Sarria, I’ve noticed. If you’re in line for five minutes waiting to be served, you should know when you get to the counter what you want to order and not spend another three minutes discussing it. Just sayin’.
Especially if you’re a tourist who drove there wearing white.

And don’t have bells on your daypack.

On the trail today we saw an organized horseback tour group; another bagpiper; a wax stamp stand; a guy playing an odd instrument in the middle of the woods (was very soothing); and a man selling cherries. We also passed a house with two big labs in the yard. There was a basket tied to the fence with a sign that said, “Pictures are welcome; donate to their food fund.” We didn’t run across many people from our bubble, but we did leave later again today. We also did not see our favorite border collie; I want to ask his owner where they stay.

We had an Aquarius/foot care stop, and talked about when to leave tomorrow. Mim and I want to leave early, so we can really meander and soak it up but not be as miserably hot as we were today. Kathy does not like early mornings, so it was a bit of a negotiation, but we’ve settled on 5:30 am.

We came to a fork in the trail that had two markers and a large sign detailing the “complimentary”route, which was a bit longer. We had a couple minute’s discussion before sticking to the original. About a tenth of a mile later the people from the alternate route were emerging and crossing back to our side. We could have walked it in less time than we talked about it. This required another snack stop. A group was hanging out on the lawn connected to the place we stopped. We think one of the guys had heat stroke; they called an ambulance for him. He was walking and seemed okay, but he got the express ride to Santiago this afternoon.

We finally go to O Pedrouzo — uphill, of course — about 2:30, then it took a bit to find our hostels. The lady at check in was so lovely, asking if I needed any recommendations, but all I wanted was the key to my room. I napped, showered, and met them to go to dinner. First stop was the pharmacy for some more super blue pills; my pain management system clearly left a lot to be desired today, so I’m bringing back the big guns.

On the way I saw a guy in a Wake Forest shirt and asked if he’d gone there. He did, and when I told him I had, too, he asked when I graduated. Probably before you were born, son. Let’s not go there.

Erika saw us looking at a menu and came outside to tell us the food was good there, and they had air conditioning. That’s all we needed to know. Before we went in, a woman who heard our Southern accents asked, in her own, what we’re from. She is from near Asheville. She has a broken arm, which happened while biking in the Meseta. She had surgery, took two days off, and has been walking it ever since.

I’m hoping my cranky day is akin to a bad dress rehearsal meaning opening night will be great. There’s still a chance I can trip over my own poles and get my own express ride to Santiago, but either way I’m getting there tomorrow.Read more