Days 33-34 Velocity x Mass = Momentum
Day 33
Liñares to Tricastela--11.16 miles; 130 km. to go
The hotel that I´ve spent the night in is so typical of cheap roadside hotels that it´s worth a few lines of description. Usually, the hotel is above a bar/cafe/restaurant, and in this case, there´s a market as well. The hotels are always very clean and of recent construction. Plumbing is good; a large-sized person would get stuck in the micro-bathrooms though. Almost always, these places are family-run, with mom and pop hovering behind the scenes and the kids working the cafe, looking totally bored out of their minds. Can´t blame them, surely they´d rather be at the all-night clubs in any large city rather than a dusty village with five houses. Price range 20-30 euros.
The trail gets crowded.
Drive through any Spanish town, you´d think it was deserted or a ghost town where everyone has died off. People come out of their houses like bats around 9-10 at night. It´s not uncommon to hear little kids playing outside the window well after midnight. When you walk through these towns at 7, even 9am, everything is all shut up; people are still asleep. There are no cars driving around. I have to laugh to think of the freeways at home at that hour.
Another beautiful walk today. The pilgrim highway is starting to get crowded with the required 100 km. mark fast approaching. Met a couple of English pilgrims today, and they are hilarious. One has done the Camino four times. I´ve learned a new expression from them: "thunderbox." Gwyn, are you familiar with this term? I´m pretty sure it´s an English invention. :-)
I´m giving another attempt at sleeping in one of the kennels tonight. It may be my last.
Day 34
Triacastela to Sarria--11.16 miles; 112 km. to go
The night of nights. Indescribable? No, I can describe it quite well. A room with 18-20 bunkbeds filled with exhausted pilgrims and their backpacks. A man and his wife in the bunk next to me are snoring like lumberjacks with chainsaws--beyond earplugs, beyond music blasting in my ears from the iPod. It´s 2:30am and I can´t breathe. This is a lunatic asylum. I stumble across the pitch-black room like I´m in a game of Snakes and Ladders and go into the hallway for a few minutes. What to do? What to do? I go back into the room. Some idiot had shut the window, and the respiration from some twenty people, the breath of chorizo, jamon, or whatever the hell they ate the night before is overwhelming. I am so out of here. I grope my way back across the room, scoop up my stuff using the backlight of the iPod to see, and leave. But it´s 2:30am. Where to go? There´s a little room with a washer and dryer. No, too stuffy. A corner of the kitchen floor works. It´s clean. Out comes the Thermarest--the first time I´ve had to use it--and all is well until 5:30 when I wake up to some group having a prayer breakfast. I pack up and leave.
I see two pilgrims in the dark ahead with headlamps and follow them. The headlamps light up the rocks and the cowpies. I think the trail goes up a huge hill. I can´t see and don´t care. Finally the dawn breaks and I forge ahead through the mist.
Typical Galician town
It´s another lovely walk. I reach the civilized town of Sarria, walk into a three-star hotel, and jump straight into a bubblebath and bed. The TV has 24 channels that even have clear reception. Why there´s CNN and Sky News in English! I only venture out to eat and scoot back in.
The numbers of pilgrims have changed dramatically. Where once there were groups of twos or threes and individuals, there are now gaggles of pilgrims and youth groups with support vehicles. What´s known as the "bed race" is about to begin. Pilgrims will now get up at 5am and race to the next albergue to get in line for a bunk. Let ém.
About five more days to go.
Liñares to Tricastela--11.16 miles; 130 km. to go
The hotel that I´ve spent the night in is so typical of cheap roadside hotels that it´s worth a few lines of description. Usually, the hotel is above a bar/cafe/restaurant, and in this case, there´s a market as well. The hotels are always very clean and of recent construction. Plumbing is good; a large-sized person would get stuck in the micro-bathrooms though. Almost always, these places are family-run, with mom and pop hovering behind the scenes and the kids working the cafe, looking totally bored out of their minds. Can´t blame them, surely they´d rather be at the all-night clubs in any large city rather than a dusty village with five houses. Price range 20-30 euros.
The trail gets crowded.
Drive through any Spanish town, you´d think it was deserted or a ghost town where everyone has died off. People come out of their houses like bats around 9-10 at night. It´s not uncommon to hear little kids playing outside the window well after midnight. When you walk through these towns at 7, even 9am, everything is all shut up; people are still asleep. There are no cars driving around. I have to laugh to think of the freeways at home at that hour.
Another beautiful walk today. The pilgrim highway is starting to get crowded with the required 100 km. mark fast approaching. Met a couple of English pilgrims today, and they are hilarious. One has done the Camino four times. I´ve learned a new expression from them: "thunderbox." Gwyn, are you familiar with this term? I´m pretty sure it´s an English invention. :-)
I´m giving another attempt at sleeping in one of the kennels tonight. It may be my last.
Day 34
Triacastela to Sarria--11.16 miles; 112 km. to go
The night of nights. Indescribable? No, I can describe it quite well. A room with 18-20 bunkbeds filled with exhausted pilgrims and their backpacks. A man and his wife in the bunk next to me are snoring like lumberjacks with chainsaws--beyond earplugs, beyond music blasting in my ears from the iPod. It´s 2:30am and I can´t breathe. This is a lunatic asylum. I stumble across the pitch-black room like I´m in a game of Snakes and Ladders and go into the hallway for a few minutes. What to do? What to do? I go back into the room. Some idiot had shut the window, and the respiration from some twenty people, the breath of chorizo, jamon, or whatever the hell they ate the night before is overwhelming. I am so out of here. I grope my way back across the room, scoop up my stuff using the backlight of the iPod to see, and leave. But it´s 2:30am. Where to go? There´s a little room with a washer and dryer. No, too stuffy. A corner of the kitchen floor works. It´s clean. Out comes the Thermarest--the first time I´ve had to use it--and all is well until 5:30 when I wake up to some group having a prayer breakfast. I pack up and leave.
I see two pilgrims in the dark ahead with headlamps and follow them. The headlamps light up the rocks and the cowpies. I think the trail goes up a huge hill. I can´t see and don´t care. Finally the dawn breaks and I forge ahead through the mist.
Typical Galician town
It´s another lovely walk. I reach the civilized town of Sarria, walk into a three-star hotel, and jump straight into a bubblebath and bed. The TV has 24 channels that even have clear reception. Why there´s CNN and Sky News in English! I only venture out to eat and scoot back in.
The numbers of pilgrims have changed dramatically. Where once there were groups of twos or threes and individuals, there are now gaggles of pilgrims and youth groups with support vehicles. What´s known as the "bed race" is about to begin. Pilgrims will now get up at 5am and race to the next albergue to get in line for a bunk. Let ém.
About five more days to go.
posted by Pam on the road at 11:11 AM
1 Comments:
mis ojos,
chorizo breath and all packed in? prayer breakfast in the am? eek! And, you hiked the next day after only 3 hours sleep? I am in awe. I also adore the chutes and ladder simile.
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