Olya and I were being sleepy heads. Chris and Lainey were heading downstairs. Once we were all ready, I made Chris and I some subpar instant coffee. I stayed back to wrap things from home and school up on the wifi.
I was only five minutes behind them, but give minutes can be more than a quarter mile difference on the Camino. I didn't expected to catch up. I followed a single yellow arrow that was out the back door in an alley. No more arrows, so I followed my instinct and walked around the shops and homes until I found myself in the town center. There they were by the fountains.
We all walked together down the one lane country road. Suddenly something comes from behind us high above buzzing in the side. A man is sitting on a motor that is lifted by a parachute. None of us have ever seen anything like it. He waves pridefully of his position in the sky above us. I would, too. Then another three more motor-parachuters pass us by. One lowers himself so low as he swings side-to-side like a kid.
"I thought he was gonna try to high five us," Olya said as we nervously laughed over the incident.
The 10km stretch was long. We mostly just walked and kept to ourselves. Approaching the next town we filled up at a fountain and made our home at a table. We popped into the small little home market of a lady on the street. I got some peach jam, a baguette, and some nectarines. We shared at the table as we rested our legs.
As a pilgrim French couple passed our table to sit at the adjacent table they greeted us with "Hola" we did the same but then I added a "Bonjour" and they giggled and Bonjoured me back. It's really pleasant when people attempt to connect with you on your cultural level. I've been so humbled by how many pilgrims from all around Europe will have whole conversations with me in my own language. The very least I can do it great/ thank them in their own.
Entering the town of Hospital de Orbiga we crossed over the oldest Roman bridge in Spain. For moments it felt as if I was living back in those ancient times. The cobblestones were large and forced you to adapt your balance as you wobbled a little with every step.
In the same town we stopped in the local church to admire the decor and get a stamp for our credencials. When open, the churches are hosted by local volunteer lay people. They tend to be elderly folk who are overtly kind and eager to share with you the church and town they take such pride in.
In the church there was a sign that was some what of a prefix to the Cruz de Ferro which we will reach the next few days. The significance of the Cruz de Ferro is it is a custom for pilgrims to carry a rock from their home with them along the Camino. The rock is supposed to represent a sin they're struggling with, a burden they need to let go, or forgiveness they need to offer. Once you reach the Cruz de Ferro (3/4 or so the way through the Camino) you leave your symbolic rock on the pile of other past pilgrims' rocks that surrounds the bottom of an iron cross (cruz de ferro). The slate fresco in this church explained and encouraged the participation in this tradition. Since I will be participating, it had a lot of significance to me.
At the resound of the half-past the hour bells, we headed down the street and came to the parish albergue we had heard good things about. We stopped in to just look around, and the volunteers right away brought us ice-cold water. So thoughtful. We breaked for a few minutes, and continued on our way.
Leaving town we came to a bar called with a little garlic cartoon dressed as a pilgrim, so of course we had to get a stamp from this place.
The path passed us through a farm where we met a cute little calf, no more than 2 weeks young. Ooh, aw, photo opp.
I praised the God who brought me to this place as I listened to Kari Jobe in my headphones and stepped my sandals along the red dirt path in the piercing sunshine.
"The meadow!" I exclaimed and pointed. I really just wanted a reason to quote Bambi.
The smell of pine started to tickle my olfactory sensors. I love that smell. Where is the evidence of that smell? Less than 50ft up I could see a grove of sapling pines. What a treat!
The pathway became filled with fist sized rocks. The soles of my Tevas are starting to wear thin from the many miles. I could feel every rock bruising my arch more and more. I've been reluctant to wear my bolts because of how they've instigated the heat rash in the past, but I had to pick the lesser of two evils. And this time the pain in my arches was diabolic. We passed by two pilgrims napping in a shady grass patch. We decided to appreciate the shade for a rest as well. I took advantage of the opportunity to clean my feet with a baby wipe and switch to boots. So much better. Any blisters or rubbing I had felt before when I would wear my boots was completely unnoticeable in comparison to the arch pain I had been experiencing with the sandals.
We continued our trek. No more than five minutes of walking had passed before we came to an oasis. I'm not sure where the root of the word "oasis" comes from, but if I had to graft it a new root based on what we found in this moment, I would say that the root of "oasis" comes from a Greek word that means "piece of Heaven". Does that work? Can I do that?La Casa de los Dioses, it was actually called. House of the Gods. I would have changed it to "House of God" and then my root definition would have been almost true.
We were greeted by a beautiful, long hippie gal named Suzie who pointed us to a cart of organic food, breads, and juices and encouraged us to take and eat for free. She didn't even mention the donation box. "Just take whatever you would like," she said. What compassion, love, and grace. Before I ate, I pet her kittens she had surrounding her as she sat criss-cross with her long, tan legs. I exchanged names with her and excused myself to grab refreshments to bring back and sit with her.
Suzie and David live at this stop 2km from civilzation with no running water and no electricity. Their life revolves around showing love and compassion to the thousands of pilgrims that pass through every month--at their disposition 24/7/365. The more I chatted with Suzie, the more she reminded me of my lovely, earthy, chill Aunt Dara. Similar spirit. Similar physique. Similar way of engaging in their surrounding people and environment to having a deeper understanding. Beautiful words simply flowed out of Suzie's mouth. The Earth is so full of Grace that our needs will always be provided for. That was God reminding me through Suzie.
And there, meeting Suzie and David. It made me realize that they have the life I want. It's something I've thought of before. They made it real. Feasible. Attainable. To live a simple life of service, love, and compassion towards others. No running water? No electricity? No problem. Because unconditional gratitude is true happiness, right?
We reluctantly left Suzie ans David ans continued onto our next town. We continued to discuss their amazing lifestyle and consider the same for ourselves. We trudged down the hill, passed the median full of lavender, and to the fountain where Chris did that picture.
Time to look for the hostel we'd stay at in this town. Our backpacks were feeling even heavier as we approached the building. A white paper posted on the door. Oh... "Out on holiday until Sunday, sorry for the inconvenience." Thanks for being sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that it's only Saturday. This was the only hostel/albergue in this town. Time to walk another 4km into the city of Astorga. We met a sweet, shy girl named Julia who is from Austria who had also planned on staying in San Justo. We invited her to accompany us to Astorga.
Past the abandoned hostels and homes, past the corn fields, past the big storage building tagged with nonsensical graffiti, over the ridiculously engineered, 1/2km long, double spiral, green bridge, along the side parameter of the city, up a big San Francisco hill, and finally we arrived.
We checked into the municipal albergue that housed 150+ bunks. It was modern, clean, and PACKED. I wanted Julia to feel welcomed into our group, so when the time came for us to be taken to our rooms of four beds, I gladly opted to go into the room with people I didn't know. The two German girls in my room were super nice. The greasy, short, middle-age Spainard who talked my ear-and-a-half off and then offered to give me his number so I "would have a friend" when I move to Spain--a little too nice. No thanks.
I did my shower/laundry stuff and then Lainey, Chris, Olya and I went out for wine and tapas (a complimentary, small dish of appetizers you get with your alcoholic beverage). Julia was showering and resting-up from her longest day yet (she'd only been on the Camino since Leon). While hanging out on the patio of the city square, we listened to a live high school symphony that performed. Great mood. Great food.
After our drinks and appetizers, Chris, Lainey, and I headed to the grocery store for food to make dinner. I picked up some bread, sugar, peach shampoo (smells too good to exist), cheese, and Spanish ham. The deli gal was pretty snobby. Probably just prejudice against pilgrims.
On our way heading back to the albergue we had to stop and get chocolate from the chocolate store. I say "had" to and I mean it. Astorga is the chocolate capitol of Spain... maybe the world. We picked out a bar of white chocolate to split.
We ran into David eating patatas bravas (fried potato wedges with cream) in the square. He was disappointed because they gave him potato chips with cream instead.
At the albergue, I chatted with an Italian guy in the communal dining room while Lainey and Chris cooked up their pasta. Once prepared, the three of us went onto the balcony to sit at a patio table and enjoy the view of the backside of the city as we were six stories high. We mostly had a view of the tops of homes and one small backyard, but also the two-toned mountains in the distance. Great meal, great company. Father Stanley joined us for a chat for a few minutes, and then headed to his room.
As we were finished with dinner and just chatting, a gal doing dishes warned us through the window that the hospitalero had just locked the balcony door from the inside, so we'd have to crawl through a window to get back inside. The window was pretty large, so it wasn't that big of a deal. We were, however, confused as to why there was no warning. It was barely 10 o'clock and the sun had barely set.
We cleaned up dishes, agreed to meet for breakfast at 6:30am (trying to leave earlier to beat the heat), and said our goodnights.
I wrapped up my blog on the wifi in the dining room and then hit the sack. Tomorrow we'll leave Astorga, which we've heard can be a sketchy stretch where people have been robbed and abducted. We'll be sure to stay in a group and I'll probably rearrange my pepper spray and pocket knife to be even more accessible.
Tomorrow will worry about itself.
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