Camino Day 19

The Camino has its own unique communication system, part telepathic, part telegraphic. You speak to someone and they know who you know up ahead or back behind, you exchange information about conditions and experiences. You see them days later or constantly or never again. You never make plans but always the right people show up. I spoke briefly to a Canadian woman the night before and she showed up the next day hoping to share a taxi with Alexandra—-perfect.

I went on down the path and the first order of the day was a very long steep hill. I made it to the top without stoping. I accepted my virtual gold medal, pleased with my new stamina.

shrine

One of the challenges of the Meseta is that it has no trees or bushes making the call of nature difficult. I focused a long time on some distant brambles, after that I was to enjoy the walk. Along the way locals sell fruit and coffee and I stopped for a banana.

In a shabby little town I had a bowl of pasta to fortify me and get a bit of a rest for the last five miles. It was a good thing because a mighty head wind had picked up. Slow going and dusty, the last five miles was like the effort of ten miles. I did stop to look at these amazing clouds, and I had some good music—what I could hear if it over the wind.

sky

Tired and dusty I finally made it into the ghost town where Alexandra got us a room. If it weren’t for the cathedral with a stork on top, I would have thought I was in the Wild West and expected to see tumble weeds and a shoot-out at any moment.

stork nest

The Albergue has a lovely enclosed garden with these unique planters of flowers and sculptures of pilgrims. I went into the beautiful gothic church but was the only visitor so I didn’t stay long because it was dark and creepy.

garden

A cheery and hearty pilgrim’s meal finished off the day and I was ready for an early bedtime. The walking was very challenging today but I did it. I seem to recover quickly now from my daily walk which gives me courage that I will make it to Santiago. Almost half way there.

perpetually tired pilgrims

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