Gloomy days

Just so no one will get the impression that the Camino is a walk in the park, through beautiful villages, spectacular natural settings, seasoned with good food and wine, let me tell you about the last few days. Yesterday, as we left A Gudiña, prepared for rain, it began to drizzle, so the ponchos went on. Soon it had stopped, though, and we spent the next four or more hours walking in dark cloudy (but dry) weather, feeling like we were in an airplane looking down on the deforested Galician mountains below. As we began our descent to what we thought was going to be our destination, it started to rain, and the km or so of sliding on slate and rocks in the rain was not fun. Once in the town, we went to the pensión where we intended to stay, only to be told that all the rooms were booked (I guess I had gotten lulled into thinking that the empty albergues meant no pilgrims on the road). At this point, the options were two -- to continue another 14 km to a town with a big albergue or take a cab to that point. Three opted for a cab, one opted to continue. You probably know who took the walking option.

The rain was light but pretty steady, but it went through some pretty towns, nice valleys, and I was singing "she'll be coming round the mountain" pretty loud since there were no human beings anywhere to be seen. Arriving at the albergue was very nice, but you ought to think about what it means to be in a place that is filled with wet clothes that 32 people have been wearing for at least the past day. Nothing on the lines outside of course, it's raining, so the chairs and bunk beds were draped with wet socks, wet pants, etc, the boots all soggy and stuffed with newspaper. It was not exactly a beautiful scene, but the showers were hot and I had some dry clothes.

The weather was a downer, but nothing compared to the news that Dana was leaving the Camino and heading home for family reasons. She is now, I hope, in Madrid or close to it and will soon be on a big plane home. It was pretty grim at the albergue last night and everyone was very kind to me as I sat there worried about Dana and feeling sorry for myself. But danagrina, the camino isn't going anywhere, and we will be back.

Today promised to have more rain, so when the people in the next bunk got up at 5 (and we thought 5:30 was early!) and started rustling around, I just decided to get up and see what was going on. Incredibly, about 22 people were out getting dressed and ready to plunge out into the pretty steady rain. The two people I was walking with were not in favor of that, so at 8 am, with the rain lightening up a bit, we went and had breakfast and then decided to make a run for the next albergue, about 24 km away. Somehow, we made the ascent (about 1500´) on the road (to avoid wet paths) without any real rain. Though when you walk through fog for several hours, you get wet anyway. Got dried off at a bar on the top, a well known place with thousands of scallop shells signed by pilgrims hanging on every surface inside (I hung one myself) and then started the 9 remaining kms to the next town. As we left the bar, the rain was coming down, but within 5 minutes it had stopped and for the rest of the way we had absolutely not a drop of rain, even some clear skies. We were able to get back on the camino and off the highway, and when we arrived at the albergue in Vilar do Barrio, we were astonished to see we three are the only ones here. Everyone else, who left in the rain at 6, must have gone on.

No sooner had we gotten settled in the albergue and the skies opened and we had a pounding rain for more than an hour. Maybe more tomorrow, but for now I'm dry and warm and even had my first pulpo gallego on the way in. There is a fair in this town on the 9th of every month, and two octopus sellers come to town and set up tents. Yum yum, just octopus, olive oil, and paprika, a few hunks of bread, all served on a wooden plate, and you are good to go.