Cañaveral

I was up early and headed off to the bus station, too early as usual, all the ticket offices and information were closed, however on the plus side the café in the station was open so I had a very good coffee, (never had a bad coffee in Spain yet) and breakfast. When the information office opened the lady who spoke some English could not have been more friendly or helpful, she gave me all the information I needed to ensure I got on the right bus at the right time. I wasn't happy about getting the bus, but I thought it was the only sensible alternative to walking the distance with no resources available and in that heat. I felt a bit better about that decision half an hour later when more than a dozen other peregrinos arrived having come to the same conclusion about today's walk.

The bus was ridiculously cheap and made me wonder once again why public transport in the UK is so ridiculously expensive. We arrived in Cañaveral within 35 minutes, and I saw the strange Korean man at the bus stop but I don't think our bus was going where he wanted to go.

The albergue was a short walk away and turned out to be very modern and nice, with great showers and toilets - trust me, on the camino these are the things that matter. As I was going in I saw an older lady struggling with a wheeled suitcase on the very uneven path and so I carried it in for her. Her name was Rita and she was from Belgium and at the time I didn't know it but we would travel together for the next week and become friends. I am really glad I got to know her, she was a blessing. It is strange how you warm to some people and not others on the camino. Everyone is generally civil to one another, but there are some people you are kind of glad you don't bump into again and others with whom you very quickly develop a bond.

A case in point: I was pleased to meet Odile and Colombe in the bus station, they were heading to Salamanca and then home, so it was good to be able to wish them well. On the other hand, as I was sitting quietly minding my own business waiting for the bus, and older American, whose name I made a point of forgetting, without any encouragement from me insisted on engaging me in conversation. So far, so good, I like conversation as much as anyone. However, he kept asking me questions and then insisted on telling me why my answer/opinion was wrong. He was completely lacking in any self awareness to realise how rude he was being. He also complained about everything, the Spanish weather, the Spanish food, the Spanish people, the Spanish healthcare, he seemed to think that if it was Spanish there was something wrong with it. He couldn't speak a word of Spanish by the way, but, judging by their facial expressions, I'm pretty sure that the Spanish couple sitting across from us could speak English. His basic complaint, I think, was that Spain wasn't like the USA. I for one, was shocked at this revelation.

I value manners and politeness but in 30 minutes he managed to stretch my belief in those things to the limit. Alas dear reader, this was not to be our final encounter.

As one of the first to arrive at the albergue I of course got my washing on the line first (yes I was that guy) and then went to look for a shop to get provisions. About 1800 the two Italian guys I met in Aldea del Cano arrived, when they saw me they came over and apologised for mocking my plan to get the bus, they said I had absolutely done the right thing. They ran out of water about 7 km from Cañaveral and almost never made it, they had assumed (wrongly) that although the albergue at the Embalse was closed, there would be a shop or café where they could get provisions. They were totally exhausted, the temperature had been up to 38°, and these guys were used to walking 40km but were humble enough to admit they had miscalculated on this occasion.

People die on the camino every year, mostly from pre-existing conditions and old age, accidents are rare, but heatstroke and dehydration are both factors in some of those deaths and so it's always better to be safe than sorry. I was glad that I had made the decision to go by bus, and glad that the Italians had made it ok.

By the time the Italians arrived the albergue was full, I didn't get a great night's sleep as my bunk was in line with the dormitory door, which people kept leaving open and lights on as they went to the toilets - lesson learned re bunk position. I planned to go to Riolobos, the next day and given the number of peregrinos I phoned ahead to book a bed. The next problem issue would come the day after that so I chatted with Rita and worked out a plan. After that it was time to pack my bag for the next day, then bed.もっと詳しく