A sunny start to the day. The view looks great this morning and the day ahead does not seem so bad. My legs don´t feel so bad and the feet seem OK too. A good strong black coffee and a chocolate croissant provide the needed boost for setting off, it´s about 8.30 am, uncertain of how far I´ll get today.
Soon after leaving Portomarin we are into a sparse forest and about an hour into the journey the rain starts falling once again. By now I am familiar with the routine: head down cape wrapped around me and just move forward. There´s no need to avoid puddles because within minutes everything uncovered is wet. Also little point changing sox too often since they will be soaked soon enough and you´ll be left without a dry pair when you reach you destination.
OK, walking, interesting scenery, everything green, endless green, but into the third day of rain and green you start to wish for a bit of red soil, a bit of sun, something not quite so green since it reminds you of the rain needed to keep it green.
The small villages go past and now that we are out of Lugo they even have names. The numbers on the milestones get smaller and an occasional stop at a bar for a hot cup of restorative tea or infusion perks up the spirit and restores the body for another spurt of trekking along the Way.
Writing this almost a week later I can think of nothing in particular that stands out. The occasional breaks in the clouds give the pilgrim a chance to have a little break, eat a snack or just rest and admire the scenery. All this sort of reminds me of Ireland or parts of England, even down to the low stone walls. All rather bucolic and peaceful and reminiscent of summers in the country.
I keep walking and pass through some interesting little hamlets with lovely stone churches. One of the best (in my unbiased opinion) is San Xulián and any saint with a name like mine must have been a great guy. As you can see from the photos, it is a lovely little spot and the church unpretentious but effective.
Eventually, and fortunately with clearing skies, I get to Mélide. Once again, I had not planned to get that far but the hostels were closed so there was nothing to be done but carry on, fortunately on rather level ground.
It is just as well I made it to the big town. The hostel itself was nothing to write home about. Still, the bed was comfortable (3 €, usual for Public hostels) but the shower not very hot. Feeling sore and tired I wandered into town to find a pharmacy and to look for dinner. The chemist advised against my selection because of possible stomach trouble (no one committed themselves to a negative diagnosis) and sold me a muscle relaxant instead, commenting that the combination would see me sound asleep and refreshed the next morning.
Now for dinner! While making my way through the town to the hostel noted various "Pulperias" and started to wonder if thais was a specialty of the town. Now Pulpo is Octopus and one of those specialist places stood out because of the copper vats near the entrance. The whole octopus in boiled in this stock and then cut up to order. As with anything simple, there is an art to doing it well and that particular place took my fancy so I headed back there.
It turned out to be a favourite, judging by the number of pilgrims already there. I ordered a salad, some local white and a serving of pulpo. Now for a word about the wine. You can buy bottled wine or you can get a jug from the barrel. This is unfiltered and of pretty good quality, considering. In Galicia it is served in ceramic "cups" or rather small bowls like the ones you see in Asian restaurants. Very interesting and rustic. I managed to get through most of the jug and cleaned up the substantial serving of pulpo as well. Chatting with other pilgrims was also a pleasure and added another level to the meal.
So, refreshed, restored and well fed I wandered, hobbled, back to the hostel for a very sound and uninterrupted sleep.
06 mayo, 2008
02 mayo, 2008
Day 7 (Tues, 29 April) Samos to Portomarin
Hi, still with me?
Glad to hear it so let´s get going cause we have a long way to go today. All the way to Portomarin or about 35 kms. In the rain, yes, again, and with only a few minute´s break in between.
One thing I noticed, and other people commented on, is the fact that distances in Galicia are fairly flexible. As the days went by I got the impression that originally all distances in Galicia had been calculated in miles and then they simply changed the sign to kilometres without adjusting the numbers. The distance to Santiago milestones are fairly accurate but they don´t tell you how far it is to the next town. In fact, in the Lugo province they don't even put the names of the villages out. Maybe they are afraid of invasions or they think that they know the name and bugger everyone else. In Castilla-Leon every village had a big sign at the entrance telling you everything there is to know about it and, very important, how far the next town or village was. Galicians haven's spent a single cent on anything but yellow arrows and milestones. You're on your own, mate, and don't bother with the maps because they all have different numbers for the distances and they don't relate to the miles walked. Together with the constant rain, it made trekking in Galicia a very frustrating experience.
But anyway, there I was berating the gods and screaming obscenities into the lonely air when another hiker came past. I hadn't seen anyone for a while and had not noticed anyone behind me so his appearance came as something of a surprise. In fact, he had been sheltering in a bar I had seen just before and had just come out reinvigorated. I ranted for a while longer in Spanish and then, when he said he was German, in English as well. It was good to get it off my chest, I must say.
We walked together and chatted for a while. We had both spent time in Brazil and had traveled extensively in the past. We stopped at a bar for a hot cup of tea and he met up with some real Brazilians he'd met before. They were going the same way and their friend was driving the support vehicle. Very organized these people. The good thing for me was that Encarnación (her real name and, like Purification and pain etc, no surprise to any resident of Spain) had a similar phone to mine and therefore a car charger. She offered to charge my phone for me and give it back in Portomarin. Anywhere else and I would not have considered this as an option but on the Camino....
Have I mentioned losing things before? Well, I do, on every trip. Not usually very expensive things but things you bloody well need but suddenly cannot find. A real nuisance, I can tell you. I had already lost a scarf/beanie combination that Marta had lent me and later I would also lose the hat she'd given me and later I would lose the beanie as well. On the previous walk I lost one glove and something else as well. I would lose a few more inexpensive but suddenly essential things over the following days. I guess I'll have to be mer careful. Or maybe carry spares of everything.
Anyway, after what seemed like a lot more miles than indicated on the map we eventually got to Portomarin at about 7 pm. The hostel was the Mirador, a place with a view, and it really had a good view of the river etc. The bed was 9€ and the dinner as well. I had a great squid soup but a very average scrambled eggs. The others had more interesting main courses and I kicked myself for not choosing better. The wine was nothing to talk about and I only had a few sips. Reds in Galicia are generally not very good but the whites offer better value for money. After a little chat with the Brazilians and Encarna (the phone was fully charged and therefore a long talk with Leslie very welcome) it was time for bed at a rather sober 10.30 pm. But, on the road, you really don´t feel like partying much and if you tried dancing you'd move like the monsters in Michael Jackson's "Thriller".
Tomorrow, as they say, is another day, another wet one!
Glad to hear it so let´s get going cause we have a long way to go today. All the way to Portomarin or about 35 kms. In the rain, yes, again, and with only a few minute´s break in between.
One thing I noticed, and other people commented on, is the fact that distances in Galicia are fairly flexible. As the days went by I got the impression that originally all distances in Galicia had been calculated in miles and then they simply changed the sign to kilometres without adjusting the numbers. The distance to Santiago milestones are fairly accurate but they don´t tell you how far it is to the next town. In fact, in the Lugo province they don't even put the names of the villages out. Maybe they are afraid of invasions or they think that they know the name and bugger everyone else. In Castilla-Leon every village had a big sign at the entrance telling you everything there is to know about it and, very important, how far the next town or village was. Galicians haven's spent a single cent on anything but yellow arrows and milestones. You're on your own, mate, and don't bother with the maps because they all have different numbers for the distances and they don't relate to the miles walked. Together with the constant rain, it made trekking in Galicia a very frustrating experience.
But anyway, there I was berating the gods and screaming obscenities into the lonely air when another hiker came past. I hadn't seen anyone for a while and had not noticed anyone behind me so his appearance came as something of a surprise. In fact, he had been sheltering in a bar I had seen just before and had just come out reinvigorated. I ranted for a while longer in Spanish and then, when he said he was German, in English as well. It was good to get it off my chest, I must say.
We walked together and chatted for a while. We had both spent time in Brazil and had traveled extensively in the past. We stopped at a bar for a hot cup of tea and he met up with some real Brazilians he'd met before. They were going the same way and their friend was driving the support vehicle. Very organized these people. The good thing for me was that Encarnación (her real name and, like Purification and pain etc, no surprise to any resident of Spain) had a similar phone to mine and therefore a car charger. She offered to charge my phone for me and give it back in Portomarin. Anywhere else and I would not have considered this as an option but on the Camino....
Have I mentioned losing things before? Well, I do, on every trip. Not usually very expensive things but things you bloody well need but suddenly cannot find. A real nuisance, I can tell you. I had already lost a scarf/beanie combination that Marta had lent me and later I would also lose the hat she'd given me and later I would lose the beanie as well. On the previous walk I lost one glove and something else as well. I would lose a few more inexpensive but suddenly essential things over the following days. I guess I'll have to be mer careful. Or maybe carry spares of everything.
Anyway, after what seemed like a lot more miles than indicated on the map we eventually got to Portomarin at about 7 pm. The hostel was the Mirador, a place with a view, and it really had a good view of the river etc. The bed was 9€ and the dinner as well. I had a great squid soup but a very average scrambled eggs. The others had more interesting main courses and I kicked myself for not choosing better. The wine was nothing to talk about and I only had a few sips. Reds in Galicia are generally not very good but the whites offer better value for money. After a little chat with the Brazilians and Encarna (the phone was fully charged and therefore a long talk with Leslie very welcome) it was time for bed at a rather sober 10.30 pm. But, on the road, you really don´t feel like partying much and if you tried dancing you'd move like the monsters in Michael Jackson's "Thriller".
Tomorrow, as they say, is another day, another wet one!
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