Secondly, to our followers, we are alive and roasted. The nuns of whatever town we are in have opened their doors to us and segregated men from women. Des and I were only too happy to have the separation.
We are still hating the heat, though today and tomorrow are cooler than the previous days. We tip along, often finding solice in our music. I sing. Des records me... Which is scary.
We have met a semi famous Spanish musician, he's currently serenading the plaza loungers. This guy is a delight, his English is comparable to my Spanish. Somehow we all communicate, I think that's the fun about the camino. Even if you don't understand the words you manage to connect with the people around you. Today we shared our dislike for the well wishing between peers. Most days there is nothing buen about the camino, we are sore, tired, hot, and over it, 'buen cussing camino!' And yet, day after day, person after person I utter this phrase, it's become habit, maybe in part because I hope their day isn't as shity as mine, or maybe deep down it's funny to say good way even when I know it's not. In the end the walk is worth it, you check in and are ever so content to start again. I compared it to a drawn out labor (I'm not a mother but it's a theory) you go through so cussing much and then when it's over you think wow this is incredible, I could totally do that again. It could be I have heatstroke and sound loco. I've embraced my insanity, and my space-case mannerism.
Des continues to impress me with her strength, she may not like this but I'm going to describe a situation that leaves me speechless. I put her (falling apart) pack on the other day, she had a fever (I didn't tell her about until we found an albergue) and her feet are wrecked so I thought maybe I could help. It took only ten minutes before my body started aching in ways I've never felt. I shifted and explained to her that I had no idea how she had made it as long as she had. I would have quit in the mountains. We both agree she needs a new pack, I run on the theory that her ailments are in a large part because of her pack. Today as we wander around town realizing there's no option for new she remarks, so [enter name of next town] (I have no idea where I am) in the morning, it's only 14(?) kilometers. All I can say is wow. We are both ill, I contemplated jumping off an overpass yesterday and she's all well can't get a new pack may as well carry on. Strength. 5:30 am and a brisk jaunt to the next town which certainly will not sell backpacks. I suppose at this point what choice do we have. Where's my Prince Charming with my damned horse?
I am happy you have each other! Xoxo
ReplyDeleteI had many moments of feeling like i just couldn't manage another step. And yet there always seemed to moments of kindness or small actions that revived me. It was like a Camino force that kept me moving. And i took a few short days.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the compliment guys. Love your blog. Send us the pictures one day (dowtycamino@gmail.com).
ReplyDeleteWe made it to Galicia. I love the mountains. If you are behind us stay in La Faba at the donativo Refugio. Donativo dinner is awesome and it is definitively your kind of place.