A Day In The Life (Day 24)

Today’s hike was a return to some hills and forest paths. It was a nice change from the fields and my legs held up well.

I know it’s not dense forest but after so many days of crops and dirt fields it felt like the damned Redwoods

Most of the hike was an ascent but a gentle one and I was hoping to get to town before the weather hit.

It was looking a little dicey in the hills but I made it.

I made it although there was an attack from the bugs that was like something out of a sci-fi movie. The little buggers were everywhere all of a sudden. It was an coordinated attack as well. The little, tiny gnat types bugs went high and swarmed the head while the black fly bugs went after the legs. I was bitten twice and actually had to run away. That’s no small feat with the backpack on and the walking sticks. I made it even more difficult by screaming swear words and flailing. Ah, the serenity of the pilgrimage to Santiago….. It was only a little over 14 miles today and that distance has become much less of a challenge. Actually, it’s quite easy. I’m still tired when I’m done but not nearly as worn out, or more importantly sore, then I was early on. Since there wasn’t much to report I thought I would go through my typical day. Mostly so that when I look back I can remember what it was like at this stage now that this has become rather routine. My days have a definite flow to them now. I wake up in the morning with some difficulty. I think i mentioned it before, I suppose that after about 26 days going nonstop, including 24 hiking days and about 340 miles, I’m bound to be a little fatigued. I struggle out of bed and start the normal morning stuff (hygiene, dressing, repacking the backpack). Then comes the daily pilgrim ritual of foot care. I believe that we are all doing it at this point. Michael Buble is taped up. The feet are lubed up with my magic emu beak sauce (the name of my new Punk Band) and then the sock liners and wool socks are donned. Then the boots are strapped on and I’m ready to go. All of this happens in kind of a daze. Then it’s breakfast (normally a brekkie buffet at the hostal that will consist of yogurt, excellent toast and jam, cafe con leche and orange juice) and heading out the door. Once I start walking everything changes. I’m awake and excited to be out on the sidewalk/road/trail again. Here’s some pictures of what I saw this morning.

Newer looking fancy church

Older fancy church

I will generally stop for a mid-morning coffee as is Spanish pilgrim law. Listen people, I don’t make the laws but I’m damned sure going to follow them when I’m in another country. If I have to get a creamy, delicious cafe con leche then so be it. The walking continues with more cool stuff to be seen and sometimes an early afternoon cafe con leche (this one isn’t required by law but one can never be too safe when it comes to the Spanish penal code).

Next week on “Extreme Makeovers - Home Edition”

Depending on how far I’m going that day I might stop for lunch at one of the cafes (or sometimes I have made a ham and cheese sandwich from the breakfast buffet and taken it with me. Even though they have signs that say you can’t take food with you. Because I don’t agree with that rule and I only follow the rules that I agree with. Like the cafe con leche one) but sometimes I just push on. I check into my accommodations and hit the shower. Then comes the second daily round of foot care and then I get in my evening wear. For me it consists of a long sleeve cotton shirt and long gym shorts. Oh yeah, and Teevas. I don’t believe I’ve worn socks to dinner in 24 days. The great thing is that all pilgrims are dressed in a similar fashion. When we are in a city we aren’t hard to spot. Especially on a weekend night where the local Spaniards are all dressed to the nines and we all look like we are in sleepwear and have all manner of tape on our toes and KT tape everywhere (saw a piece on the back of a guys head yesterday. I didn’t ask but I’m dying to know WTF).

Then it’s dinner, sometimes with a group and sometimes alone. Then I read. Not Twitter or any of the other items I would normally scroll through but I’ve actually read two novels already this trip. I forgot how much I missed reading a book. That is one habit that I will definitely be bringing back to Portland.

Note the ceiling above the bed. I imagine I will be in concussion protocol shortly after waking up tomorrow.

This is the front door to my hostal room. Directly in front of it are the concrete stairs down a floor. Remember when I talked about being in a daze in the morning. I’m saying there’s a 50-50 chance I fall down those bastards in the morning.

So, provided my room doesn’t kill me I will be walking my longest remaining section of the camino tomorrow. It’s over 20 miles and steeply up to the Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross) before I descend into Ponferrada. Until it’s bedtime though I’ve been spending my time alone in this hidden away library writing this.

While it might seem that my hostal is trying to hurt me, it also is providing me a beautiful place to relax and reflect. I guess it’s a little like the camino, but without the god damned bugs.