This morning we got dropped off from our accommodation at the Camino by a dune buggy. Unfortunately, there were at least 30 to 40 other pilgrims just at that spot. The trail entered a woods and began a steep ascent. The four of us hoofed it up the hill just to get past the crowds. We are missing the solitude but are meeting a whole new set of interesting people.
I have read somewhere that everyone cries at least once on the camino. For me it has been twice, so far. The first time was in Leon when I gave myself two extra rest days after I hit a wall. I was in a wonderful hotel (impeccable timing) and sitting on a chair in my room, alone, feeling sorry for myself. The second time was today when I overheard Diane, walking behind me, telling an Irish lady about the English mass we attended in Hontanas in an ancient church and how inclusive and welcoming the Franciscan priest had been. My eyes welled up with that memory.
My attitude was not good today. I am tired of walking and I want to get off the camino. My toes are hurting and I am feeling tired. All those people around me bug me, too. Then, just as I felt like stopping and leaning on my poles, we arrived at our destination for the day. It is a lovely old rectory turned into a small hotel. We have a small balcony overlooking gardens and distant hills. Really peaceful and lovely. And, soon, someone will provide us with a wonderful meal. I have been looked after once again!
Four more days and 75 K left.
Actually, we had a wonderful meal. We started with mushrooms baked in tomato sauce and cheese. This was followed by the best chicken so far. Then, for dessert, Santiago cake with icecream.