What a difference a day makes. That sounds like it needs to be sung rather than said, doesn't it? But first let me finish yesterday's story.
Returning from my rather ample dinner to 'my' albergue, I found the dormitory 3/4 full! There must have been a lot of latecomers who hadn't found a place to sleep and had been obliged to walk on further than planned. I felt somehow violated, although that was completely unrealistic of course. It was an early night for me.
And then by 6 in the morning, before it was even light, virtually everyone was gone again. All except one person who looked like they'd arrived late and just collapsed on the bed without unpacking or even changing clothes. He was still fast asleep, and looked like he'd stay that way for a while yet.
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| Early morning mist |
It was an aromatic day. First, of course, the lingering smell of walkers' boots and socks in the dormitory. Then the smell of the morning mist as I cycled away at the astoundingly early hour of 07:00. Welcome to Galicia; I had been told about the mist and fog (and rain!) Lots of thick mist this morning, but fortunately no rain. Then the smell of fresh bread as I cycled through the first town, which was still largely sleeping, except for the bakers and the early walkers (and at least one early cyclist). Then came the aromas of the first chicken sheds - a smell that took me back to my high school days when I made extra pocket money packing eggs on the weekends. Not a good smell, but one that brought back memories. Throughout the day, since I followed small country paths, the smell of fields freshly strewn with manure followed me. Also not a good smell; this one with no particular memories either. On the roads, when I took them, there was the smell of the diesel exhaust fumes. And then to top off my olfactory journey, there was the semi trailer heavily laden with pigs. I saw that one coming but couldn't do anything to block the stench as it passed.
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| The promise |
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| The reality |
Speaking of Galicia, it struck me that the roads were better maintained and the facilities along the Camino were the best I'd seen so far. What I also noticed were the roadside rest areas, which were relatively frequent and pleasant. This was new for me: in my travels through Spain it has always struck me that rest areas are essentially non-existent. Sometimes you see an encouraging sign showing something like someone relaxing under a tree, only to find a bare gravel patch just off the road. And on the rare occasion when there's actually some roadside furniture or facilities, it is invariably not maintained and in a state of disrepair.
You get lots of time to observe things when you're riding a bike.
But the main difference today was what happened once I passed Sarria. To be eligible for a certificate of completion to prove they've completed the Camino, Pilgrims have to walk at least 100 km (bicycle riders have to do 200 km) and Sarria is essentially the town to start from in order to just meet the criteria. So Sarria is a very busy place. Getting there around 08:00 I found the streets milling with walkers. And, although I know this is a little unfair, most of the walkers I saw were 'day trippers' who walked without packs (having their luggage sent ahead). For the rest of the day the Camino was virtually choked in places with hundreds of walkers, often strolling down the middle of the road as if there were no cars (or bikes). Each time I came to a cafe or rest stop it was simply overflowing with people. I can't imagine what it will be like in July / August.
So although much of today was through lovey countryside along pleasant little roads, much of it was somehow marred by the throng of people. Bad luck for anyone looking for a solitary experience.
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| Just the thing at the end of a long day's ride |
Given the quantum increase in the Pilgrim traffic, I decided to repeat the strategy of passing the main stage points and aim for a little (off-track if possible) place. '..a classical Camino village with its tiny 12th century church' said the guide. That sounded good, so I rode past the day's main end town and aimed for this village. I arrived to be told that the place was full, although the owner was very sympathetic. In the end he gave me a bed in what is essentially a hotel room (en-suite bathroom, luxury!) for the price of a dormitory bed. "If anyone asks you, tell them you paid the full price".
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| The lady with the bird |
The other day I wrote about the blind man walking the Camino. As you travel, you hear about certain people. "Did you see the woman carrying a bird?" I had heard this several times, but since I was travelling faster than the walkers, I'd forgotten about the woman with the bird. And then suddenly, walking up ahead was a tiny woman under an enormous parasol carrying a cage! The woman with the bird! I pulled up beside her, not really believing that someone was walking the Camino carrying a bird in a cage. "My mascot" she said. 'Don't you get a sore arm holding a cage out like that all the time?' "Sometimes I hold it down". She'd come from Barcelona! But given that I'd caught up with her she must have been getting ride sometimes. Still....
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| Time for a coke - in the middle of nowhere |
And lastly, to finish this rather long post, I came across a Coke vending machine, just by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Connected and working. Another story there....
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| The Camino - time for reflection (before the crowds appeared) |
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