So close
Trip Start
Sep 18, 2010
1
7
10
Trip End
Nov 04, 2010
Arca / Podrouzo, Galicia, Spain
Friday, October 22, 2010
A few days ago I realized that I would have to take another bus shortcut if I was going to make my target date of Oct. 26 in Santiago. So without regrets, I bought the ticket at a specific tobacco shop on one side of Villafranca del Bierzo, and several hours later went to wait at the side of the road on the other side of Villafranca del Bierzo. Eventually a great big motorcoach slowed down, then stopped in front of me. I climbed in and rode to Lugo, where I then transferred to another bus that took me to Sarria.
Sarria is a special place on the Camino. Itīs a reasonably picturesque and interesting city, I suppose, but thatīs not what distinguishes it. What distinguishes it is that, at 111 km from Santiago, itīs the closest departure point you can start from and still get your "Compostela" - the document at the end of the journey that certifies your pilgrimage. (There was a time when the Compostela also signified release from Purgatory, but I havenīt heard much press about that detail lately.)
Since Sarria, the Camino has been a much more crowded place. (Though to be fair, the guy with the birdīs foot has been walking since Germany, so I canīt blame that on short-timer syndrome.) Today is Sunday, which means that today and yesterday the path was filled with weekend walkers from points not that distant in Spain, and even a fair number from other parts of Europe who were just taking a long weekend. These pilgrims seem to travel in groups; they know each other, and their animated, laughter-laced polyglot conversations fill the camino as much as their walking sticks and ponchos do. Theyīre often unburdened by any kind of pack at all (making my pack - ponderous even though it isnīt heavy - more conspicuous than ever).They bring a nice energy to the walk, but itīs a different energy, and itīs not the energy Iīm here for. When I hear them approaching from behind I tend to slow down, step aside, wish them "Buen Camino!", and wait for an interval until I can walk alone again.
Today I walked through the most torrential of all the downpours Iīve experienced on the Camino. I should have known something was up from my first night in Galicia - the weather was beautiful, but the countryside was a brilliant, emerald green - nothing like the other regions of Spain Iīve seen. Itīs achingly beautiful here: rolling hills defined by low stone walls, the fields dotted by healthy, happy cattle and sheep, many of them wearing bells. Itīs the first place in Spain where Iīve been served butter with my morning "pan tostada" instead of margarine.
But thereīs an explanation for all that green. Galicia is to Spain what the Olympic Peninsula is to Washington State: the place that gets all the rain. And a lot of it fell on me yesterday.
No complaints, though. Iīm writing now from Arca, less than 20 km from Santiago. After more than a month of walking every day, walking until I forget why Iīm walking, when my next dayīs walk ends: Iīll be done.
Comments
Christina, you are incredible. Congratulations on your awesomeness. Please tell everyone you meet that Jim Bogar is lucky enough to be able to go home with you.
Great job Christina! We are all in awe!!! Thanks for the terrific updates.