Days 38-39 Ánimo Peregrina

Day 38
Melide to Arzua--8.06 miles; 37 km. to go

Apple trees are everywhere in Galicia

One of the fun moments while on the Camino is running into pilgrim friends you haven´t seen in days or weeks. You can be sitting in a restaurant or in a cybercafe and suddenly there is the Irish pilgrim of the Dutch pilgrim. We catch up on the news, where we´ve stayed, who we´ve seen. We´re actually a very gossipy bunch. Although I haven´t seen her since before Burgos, I hear that the Korean pilgrim is just a few days behind.

I haven´t met either one of this pair yet, but I´ve heard about a Mexican pilgrim and a Belgian pilgrim who were traveling together as an item. For reasons I don´t know, they´ve broken up, but the Mexican guy has left messages of endearment for the Belgian girl. I saw one after Villafranca de Bierzo that said something to the effect that she would always be a part of his vida, and I´m sure I see one this morning. It reads "Hermosa, you are my camino now." And it´s dated a few days ago.

Another horreo

Arzua is a noisy, one-street town that´s either under demoliton or reconstruction. It´s also known for its creamy cheese, which is celebrated in a grand festival every spring.

Weeks ago, after I had walked about six days, a map of the Camino ran alongside a wall of a restaurant by my table. I had only gone about one inch and a good three feet remained. Now I look at a map and I think no wonder I´m tired. 480 miles is a long way. The bottoms of my boots will attest to that.

No more tread left

Day 39
Arzua to Lavacolla--16.12 miles; 11 km. to go

Almost! Fate dictates the day as there are very few hotels between Arzua and Santiago, and I had made a vow to sleep in a cowshed before I´d go back to the albergues. Do we do 37 kilometers today or not? At the halfway point the one and only hotel is todo completo. A taxi driver in front is unloading pilgrims´backpacks. Some even belong to cycle pilgrims. These are wusses of the worst sort. I put my nose in the air and continue on.

Needless to say, the feet and I are negotiating furiously. Today´s promise is that I won´t take the bus out to Finisterre--literally the end of the known earth in the Middle Ages--which requires, in addition, a 5-kilometer roundtrip walk. A larger challenge though is riding in a moving vehicle after 5 1/2 weeks of only my own leg power. I´m told motion sickness is quite a common effect. Well, I can celebrate the end of the earth with a g & t looking out at the ocean at Las Brisas in Laguna.

The trail today winds through endless eucalyptus groves and comes out at the end of the runway at Santiago´s airport. I saw my first horse pilgrims today! One of the horses even had a scallop shell on his forehead--very cute.

Horse pilgrims


This poor pilgrim died only one day out from Santiago.

Well, by the airport I find a reasonably priced hotel room. I´m relieved because it just isn´t walking to Santiago, it´s finding a room there on a Friday night, plus there are certain rituals and processing a pilgrim must go through on arrival. The town of Lavacolla, where I am, is traditionally where pilgrims of the Middle Ages washed themselves before entering Santiago. According to my guidebook, this would be the first bath many of them had! Christians used to look down on Muslims and Jews for their frequent bathing customs (Queen Isabella used to brag she only had two baths in her life). Also, and I swear to God this is in my guidebook, Lavacolla used to be called Lavamentula. Lava means to wash--obviously--but "mentula" means phallus and a "colla" is a scrotum. Those stinky medieval pilgrims warrant a place name. Yikes!