As Siexas to Arzua – 28.0 km

Started the day in the mist

Sixteen-year-old Victor from Venezuela, who was walking the Camino for the last 100 kilometers with his parents, set himself a goal to be in Arzua before noon. “My parents are so slow. I want to race to Arzua and wait for them at a cafe.”

Sandra crossing a unique pedestrian bridge.

I told Victor that if he could keep up with my pace, I would make sure he arrived in Arzua by noon. Sadly, the poor lad could not keep up in the +33-degree heat. It’s too bad, because I arrived at the cafe in Arzua at exactly 10 seconds before noon.

Sandra, the Spanish-Portuguese-English interpreter, and her two Spanish friends normally wake up early in the morning, usually around 5:00. But they rarely leave the albergue early. Today, they took their time eating breakfast and left at 6:20. I caught up with them about 13 kilometers into the day, just outside Melide, where the Camino Primitivo connects with the Camino Frances, which will take us the remainder of the way to Santiago.

Sandra was good company and we chatted about every topic, from our families to Galician landscapes to the process of curing cheese in the frequently seen hurrios that we passed. Sandra is a natural interpreter, explaining everything the two Spaniards were discussing, and telling them everything we were talking about.

Second breakfast with Sandra and her two Spanish friends.

Sandra has a lot to teach me about not using money to solve problems. She spent an hour yesterday evening sewing, making repairs to her clothing and backpack. She fixes things, whereas I would probably just replace them. Sandra also saves the grease from cooking to make soap. She jokes that she sews poorly, so she only sews when she doesn’t care about the article’s appearance afterward.

When David, Daniel, Juliane, and Shenja arrived at the albergue, we took a trip to the grocery store and bought a feast of food and alcohol for our long-awaited final communal meal on the Camino. Tomorrow will be our last day of walking, so we wanted to cook together.

Communal meal on our final evening before Santiago (David from Northern Ireland, Juliane and Daniel from Germany, me from Canada, and Shenja from Russia)

And when I say we cooked together, what I mean is that I set the table, opened a beer, and watched the World Cup football game while Shenja and Juliane did the actual cooking. Terrible stereotyping, I know, but they really did want to do the cooking. It was fantastic; such good food and good company. The men did the cleanup, although we, er, waited for half-time to do so.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *