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I left the Arzua albergue at 5:30 a.m. I walked mostly alone in pitch black through deep forest. Owls were screeching. Moth shadows in the flashlight light looked like bats, and the eyes of a raccoon or badger reflected back at me. It was impossible to see the way marks, and I got turned around a few times. I enjoyed it though. It was exhilarating and scary.
At one point, beyond the woods, someone had set up a candlelit stand on the path with coffee thermoses and fruit. I came upon it as the sun began to rise. I did not stop to partake, but I did absorb its beauty and serenity.
Three and a half kilometers later, I sat under a cherry tree outside a cafe and had a cafe con leche and a tostada with jam. I then walked on another thirteen kilometers. My feet were in such pain, perhaps a difference of walking in mud as opposed to hard dirt, as it had rained during the night.
I stopped at the xunta albergue in Santa Irene at 11:00 a.m. It had thirty-six places and was on a busy, noisy highway without meal accommodations. I thought there might be a line of people waiting to get in, but there was no one at the albergue when I arrived. Everyone had likely walked on the additional 2.7 kilometers to the albergue in Arco O Pino which had two hundred beds and places to eat. As I waited, others stopped but then decided to go on, because there was no place nearby to eat. I did not care about food. I just wanted to be assured of a bed and a shower without having to walk farther. After my thirty-five-kilometers-Samos-to-Portomarin day, I was afraid of not finding a place and then having to walk on in pain.
After waiting a couple of hours in the pouring rain, the albergue did open at 1:00. The bed had a nice mattress and the place was clean and safe. I, however, was chilled to the bone. I crawled in my sleeping bag first thing to try to get warm. I needed a shower, but, instead hunkered down in my sack to generate some heat.
I left the Arzua albergue at 5:30 a.m. I walked mostly alone in pitch black through deep forest. Owls were screeching. Moth shadows in the flashlight light looked like bats, and the eyes of a raccoon or badger reflected back at me. It was impossible to see the way marks, and I got turned around a few times. I enjoyed it though. It was exhilarating and scary.
At one point, beyond the woods, someone had set up a candlelit stand on the path with coffee thermoses and fruit. I came upon it as the sun began to rise. I did not stop to partake, but I did absorb its beauty and serenity.
Three and a half kilometers later, I sat under a cherry tree outside a cafe and had a cafe con leche and a tostada with jam. I then walked on another thirteen kilometers. My feet were in such pain, perhaps a difference of walking in mud as opposed to hard dirt, as it had rained during the night.
I stopped at the xunta albergue in Santa Irene at 11:00 a.m. It had thirty-six places and was on a busy, noisy highway without meal accommodations. I thought there might be a line of people waiting to get in, but there was no one at the albergue when I arrived. Everyone had likely walked on the additional 2.7 kilometers to the albergue in Arco O Pino which had two hundred beds and places to eat. As I waited, others stopped but then decided to go on, because there was no place nearby to eat. I did not care about food. I just wanted to be assured of a bed and a shower without having to walk farther. After my thirty-five-kilometers-Samos-to-Portomarin day, I was afraid of not finding a place and then having to walk on in pain.
After waiting a couple of hours in the pouring rain, the albergue did open at 1:00. The bed had a nice mattress and the place was clean and safe. I, however, was chilled to the bone. I crawled in my sleeping bag first thing to try to get warm. I needed a shower, but, instead hunkered down in my sack to generate some heat.
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