Unexpected Faces, Part II

I don't know why it lopped me off but here's the rest:

Told ya. Real castle. 

I sat there taking my sweet time and after she cleared my table, who should appear before my eyes but the father-son duo from Washington, DC!

I didn't mention them in my post yesterday but I've spent the last 2 days playing tag with them. We don't walk together (they're too fast for me) but we've seen each other a nearly every little town along the way, and we enjoy sitting and chatting for a bit over something cold to drink. 

Anyway, I was sure that they were in the wind, and yet there they were standing before me suckered into the promise of a hamburger just like I was! The told me that the downhills yesterday did a number on them both (Dad probably in his late 40s/early 50s, and son is 15). They decided to sleep in until 10:30 and were just arriving saying that that 7k seemed awfully long. Oh, thank God. Maybe I'm not so far gone, I thought. 

I sat with them through a long lunch. The burger was pretty darn good for a Spanish reproduction. The son went back for a second one which was no surprise given that he was saying yesterday how much he longed for food from home after 20+ days of walking. Besides, red meat doesn't seem that easy to come by out here. We see cows...but maybe that's why they aren't on our plates. I digress. 

They decided that they'd do the next 18k and likely stop there. They've got plenty of time and Dad doesn't seem to be in much hurry. I walked with them through town and said farewell as we approached my hotel. 

Yes, dear travelers we are back in the alleged lap of luxury.  For 55 Euros I'm in a 3 star hotel tonight which is actually quite well appointed with a nice little restaurant attached. It's safe to say that purest heart is melting. 

On my last Camino I railed against "tourist pilgrims", those folks who bus each day and walk only with a bottle of water or a day pack, who sleep in fine hotels at the end of each day. (Mind you that's only really possible to do every single day in the final stretch from Sarria onward). As I crammed myself, my pack, my trekking poles and my hotel key into the tiny elevator I had two thoughts. 

First, I looked up and saw a maximum occupancy sign of six. I laughed. Out loud. 

But as I pressed button for the second floor (which is actually the third floor in Europe, lest you think I'm too lazy to walk a single flight of stairs) I thought to myself, "Yep. It's been 3 years and I'm ready to call in every hotel I can get at the age of 32. At 65 I'll do whatever I damn well please." And I say 65 intentionally. That's the average age of someone who completes the Camino in Santiago, collecting a Compostella (the diploma of the Camino). Think about that. That's the average. Weighed down by all the undergrads and twenty-somethings. Because the dirty truth of the Camino is that if you have time you can do it. Yes there are parts that are tough on the knees or the feet, but of the pain comes from doing long stretches at a time, day after day. If you have the time to go slowly each day, or take days off, this is a reasonable little hike. Let's be serious here, this is not the Appalachian Trail. Far from it. But try to do 800k in 30-35 days and yes, it'll chew you up and spit you out. 

Which is where I was this morning. But I settled into my hotel, cranked up that glorious AC, and stayed off my feet binging some horrible show called Lie to Me. (Crime solving by a PhD in behavioral analysis). Guess what? Couldn't be happier. 

After a while I took a BATH (even shaving my legs! WATCH OUT NOW!) and hanging my clothes. I chatted with Lino and then began to scout out dinner. There's an Italian restaurant right next to my hotel called Pizzeria Trastevere which on its name alone sounded promising, as Trastevere is a charming neighborhood in Rome. It would be like seeing a place called Georgetown Tavern. You'd have reason to be hopeful. I found it online and the menu looked legit. I was more hopeful. I could crane my neck out my window and see that at 8pm it was still closed. I checked the website again, and double-checked my translations. Yep, it was supposed to open at 7:30p. No wording about being closed on Mondays but alas it seems to be the case. Classic. Oh well. 

So I moseyed down the street a little in my flips flops SANS bandages. This is significant as it's the first time since the second day that I've attempted this. It wasn't without discomfort but for a short stroll it was doable. I wandered into a grocery store where I picked up the following for 5,20 Euros. A can of Pepsi, a package of turkey lunch meat (I'll shove that in the mini fridge and have them both for breakfast in the morning), a nectarine (for lunch), a 2L bottle of water for my pack, and a small sleeve of cookies that are dark chocolate on shortbread. Oh, and the plastic bag. You have to pay for those here. When you have access to a real grocery store its totally impressive how far a Euro will go! 

So with my groceries in tow I gently, tenderly, slowly walked back to my hotel and it's attached restaurant. It had outside seating on a beautiful patio and looked like a real restaurant at home. And so I sat down for my first nice meal. Filet medallions (let's just say they play a little fast and loose with those descriptions) and some macerated blueberries (?), on some sort of creamy stuff, in a small tart shell for dessert. It was advertised on the English menu as puff pastry with berries. Um...no. I'll take enough bites so as not to be rude and then go back and have a few of my cookies. 

So on a peaceful evening in the square, the clock strikes 9. I'd really like to think that my feet will carry me tomorrow. But I'm hellbent on leaving early. I keep saying that...and then I don't. But tomorrow I have no excuse and it's going to hit 93, so I really need to get going. No excuses. 

I feel a little lazy just laying around today but I know my feet could not have hacked it. If I am to arrive in Santiago on the 10th, I must follow the book exactly every day from here on out. If I find behind at all, I will be forced in the next couple of days to take a bus to Sarria (the 100k mark) since that's the minimum you must walk to get a Compostella. I'm not here for the document but it feels awfully silly to come all this way and not at least earn that. 

They say no two Caminos are the same. I think that is intended to mean that even two people walking to and from the same places on the same day won't have the same experience. And that's certainly true.  But it's also true of my own Caminos. I never fathomed that this is how I would be doing this right now, but life is full of surprises I guess. I've had some wonderful experiences and met some great people. Thankfully I'm only halfway done because I'm itchy for the wonderful feeling that comes from accomplishing each day's stage on time. 



...and just as I wrapped this post and paid for my bill, up walked the Italian woman I met on my first day. The poor thing has had bedbugs twice since I left her that next day and she says she's heard many reports of them at the albergues. All the more reason to stay somewhere a little more comfortable I suppose. 

Ok, time to get ready for bed. 5am will come early and I have a lot of packing to do when the time comes. 

As always, thank you for accompanying me on this wild ride. I'm so grateful for you. 

JR