October 23rd, 2013

Yesterday we hiked 18.5 kms from Hospital de la Cruz to the village of Ponte Campana.  Soon after we left Hospital de la Cruz the Scoutmaster made the declaration that he has never hiked in such bad rain!  And for the past four days bad rain it has been:  cold, windy, relentless, boot-soaking, sock-soaking, foot-soaking...in truth it´s the foot-soaking quality of this rain that makes it so bad, because Tom and I and most of the other pilgrims are covered head to ankle in high-tech, waterproof rain gear (I ditched my plastic party-table-cover poncho and bought a big-shot Altus poncho in Leon- love it!), but it´s our feet that are our achilles heels- so to speak - because even the most Goretexed "waterproof" boot end up giving it up to the Camino Deluge and the ensuing oceans of mud.  So all of us pilgrims are in the same boat.  Or boot.  In any case, for some reason today the pilgrim population greatly increased along the Camino - not a pilgrim traffic jam, or anything, but it was nice, enough to restore the feeling of Camino cameraderie.  I met another Irish pilgrim today, and since this guy was in less of hurry than the Irishman we met yesterday I asked him if Galicia reminded him of Ireland.  He said oh yes, it reminded him exactly of the Irish countryside, especially the little villages with the farmhouses and trees.  I asked him if the rain also reminded him of Ireland, and he said, "Especially the rain!" ( But he added that he preferred to be dry!)  So anyway, all of you who´ve been to Ireland now have a pretty good idea of what Galicia looks like! We ran into another patch of Wretched Stones today and I´m afraid I wasn´t as fearless as I´s planned to be.  This was along a steep, very narrow, wall-lined path, and as I stood at one spot about halfway down trying to figure out how to get the rest of the way down a group of Spanish pilgrims passing by asked me if I was all right.  I replied, "Tengo miedo" (I´m afraid).  One of them turned back from where she stood on a stone below me and reached up to me (she wasn´t even using sticks, for goodness sakes!) and told me to take her hand, she´d help me down.  I thankfully declined, but told her to go down in front of me and I´d watch how she did it and then follow her, and that´s how I got down.  Oh well, I guess I´ll just have to take these landscapes one stone at a time with a little help from my pilgrim friends (and my hubby!).   I also spent a few minutes chatting with a young pilgrim from Denver.  He told me that he´d spent the night before in one of the xuntas.  I asked him how it was and he said it was depressing, not so much because the facilities were  nasty (they were!) but because of the unfriendliness of the hospitaliera of the xunta.  I knew exactly what he meant.  In fact,  the worst thing  (besides the ugly, dirty room and the mildewed, leaky bathroom) about the casa rural "El Labrador" in Hospital de la Cruz was the same as the worst thing about the xunta:  the hospitalieros were not friendly and, although we were the only guests staying in their  hostel, they acted as if they couldn´t care less and couldn´t even be bothered to make sure our laundry was dry before returning it to us!  But this afternoon a miracle happened:  the rain stopped, the sun came out, and the wind blew dry the wet socks pinned to the back of our backpacks! So we arrived at our destination of Ponte Campana in a good state of mind, which got even better when we stepped into the casa/albergue "Casa Domingo"  and saw the warm stone and wood-timbered Galician-style interior and received the usual warm welcome from the hospitaliero.  We could have gotten an albergue bunk for 10 euros but decided to go for a private room again (we´re kind of getting used to the high life!) for 35 euros.  And surprise, surprise:  the private casa rooms were in an old flour mill that used to be run by the parents of the hospitaliero, across a wide meadow from the rest of the albergue next to the beautiful mill stream that ran right outside our window!  The first -floor sitting room of the mill/casa still looked like a mill with stone  and wood floors and a fireplace and the old wheat-grinder was still sitting in the middle of the room. Our room was on the second floor where the miller family used to live,  another beautiful rustic stone-walled room with heavy wood furniture and a pretty country spread.  And the 10 euro pilgrim meal was so good, another  community meal where all the pilgrims staying at the albergue sat at a long table and ate a family-style meal cooked by the wife of the hospitaliero:  first lentil soup, then salad, followed by spaghetti and meatballs, then chicken that tasted like it had been cooked in a wine sauce, then vanilla custard with cinnamon.  After every course I swore I couldn´t eat another bite, but, of course, I managed to eat every bite of every course and even managed some second helpings!   Today we woke up to another round of sheets of driving rain and rain is predicted for all day, but  after yesterday we at least know that sun is within the realm of possibility!    May your day be full of the sunshine of friendliness!  love, Patti 8)