The start time of the second day was more or less the same as the previous day. It had not been easy for me to fall asleep – on two bunks to my left slept – still dressed – a couple battling for the snoring prize: she was a mezzo-soprano and he a baritone, and though the volume was not distressing, it was certainly noticeable. To my right, separated by a half-thick plank of wood, two individuals were sleeping; one of them was somewhat peculiar, and seemed very annoyed by the snoring. Late at night, and while I was getting deeper into sleep, I seem to remember that he knocked on the board that separated us, I guess to try to stop the snoring. Perhaps he thought it was me who was snoring. In the game “Sink the fleet” that means water and you lose your turn.
One of the advantages of doing the Camino at a time when the school year has already begun is that, for those who go without a reservation, finding accommodation is not impossible. The municipal hostels, for example, do not accept reservations, and they fill up as pilgrims arrive throughout the day. If your plan is to spend the night in them, there is a clear incentive to get up early every day and arrive early at your destination to guarantee a good berth.
Another way to make the Camino is to get up whenever you get up and get to your destination whenever you get there. That’s when the search for accommodation begins and you may have to make two or three capers because your first choices for lodging are not available. But we are in Western Europe, it is very safe and with services everywhere. The worst that can happen is that you may have to pay extra to sleep that night, or you may have to take a cab; where’s the drama?
Being a late pilgrim also has its advantages: you avoid crowds at breakfast, and when you arrive at your destination tired, sweaty and maybe wet, the bathrooms are free because the early risers are already all packed visiting the town. Everything is colorful.
That day I made use of the luggage carrying service offered by different companies along the way. The backpack is left at one of the pick-up points -usually hostels, but they can also be bars or restaurants-. In an envelope you write your name and destination and put 4 € inside. And off you go. There is no great control of who left what, nor do they look at the destination or anything else. The backpack stays there and then they load it into a van. The first time it’s a bit scary to leave all your belongings like that – especially since you need the clothes to continue and sleep – but the Camino is an environment of high mutual trust. The backpacks arrive at a restaurant, you say “that’s mine” and literally nobody doesn’t even look at your ID card when you take the backpack through the door. –“Strangely enough, it all turns out well” -“How?” -“I do not know, it’s a mistery”
The day started with a lot of mist. I had breakfast of toast with butter and two croissant horns at a cafe in the town square. It was around 9 o’clock and the street was deserted, until suddenly the doors of the Church of St. Nicholas opened and pilgrims began to come out – they had gone to Mass! Because of my lack of religious uprooting I had not even thought of it.
Leaving Portomarín again there are two possible routes: the alternative went into a forest, while the traditional one was along the road; the alternative welcomes you with a steep slope of almost 1 km. until crowning the mount of San Antonio. From there, at mid-morning, the sky opened up.
The route alternates stretches parallel to the road with others in which one enters the woods and meadows.
I had lunch at a small establishment called O Castro, near Castromayor. It was served by two very nice girls who had no problem accommodating an unusual request: to add a fried egg to a loin and cheese sandwich. Although they didn’t have table service, they brought my lunch to the terrace because, of course, I was a bit minddrifting and didn’t even hear my name being called at the bar. A nice lunch surrounded by some dogs who were patiently waiting for a patron to share some of the food with them.
A few kilometers ahead I could hear loud music. There were several cars parked on both sides of the shoulder of the road and suddenly I came across a stage where the musical orchestra Charanga Ardores was delighting their audience with songs ranging from bachata and salsa to traditional Galician music. It was Ligonde’s festival and the locals had gathered to enjoy dancing under a tent with a bar. Needless to say, along with other pilgrims – including a lovely young Chinese couple – we decided to stop and join in the revelry. The best part was when the neighbors opened their handheld dancing circle so that the pilgrims could join in, and there we danced and laughed with those nice countrymen. That chinese girl was having a blast. A someone may put it, we were getting smeared with good vibes.
It was necessary to resume the road because I had no accommodation and it was not a question of arriving at night. The road runs along regional roads that runs through the villages of Airexe, Portos, Os Valo, A Mamurria, A Brea, Avenostre and O Rosario. The entrance to Palas de Rei is through a very large recreational area, which suggests that it is a fairly large village.
Arriving so late, the municipal hostel located in the center of town was already full. There was room in another municipal on the outskirts, so I would have to retrace my steps once I had picked up my backpack and the rain was starting to pour. Fortunately there was room in the nearer hostel Zendoira. Besides, I already needed to do some laundry, so I didn’t want to waste any more time. In all honesty: the story that arriving later to the albergue you find the bathrooms more available and blah blah blah blah is very cool. But it should also be noted that the queue at the laundry is formed when the pilgrims have already cleaned up, so if you arrive wet or dirty, you won’t be able to put a washing machine in until 11 pm. Which is what I had to do. Thank goodness a charitable soul took pity on me and lent me a clean pair of socks so I could go to dinner, for which I am deeply grateful. Believe me, dry and clean socks are a very precious commodity on the Camino when it’s drizzling. Tenkiu! <3
The night in Palas de Rei seemed livelier than in Portomarín. Being a bigger town it has more offer and there are more people in the street.
I had dinner at the Café-Bar O Cruceiro, a not so big establishment run by locals for locals, where the people who attended were extremely kind. There I kept one of my promises: they offered me cheese and I accepted, something unheard of for me. It was a local cheese, which I initially thought was the famous Tetilla cheese, but since we were in the Arzúa area, there is a possibility that it was a cheese of the Arzúa-Ulloa variety. Either way: it was good! Good to the level of tasting with pleasure a piece of not infinitesimal size. Tetilla cheese then joins mozzarella, tranchettes and burrata in my universe of cheeses: I’m still moving forward!
The end of the day was again remarkable. When I got back to the albergue late at night and with the silence requirement upheld, I went to use the laundry room in the basement. But hey! There were still pilgrims using it at 11 pm. So in the meantime I remained in the lounge making my sleeping concoctions; after a while a pilgrim appeared to stretch on the floor. A capo, he was downing a glass of white wine between exercises. Later there was another girl who also started stretching at her own pace, these were a bit less orthodox, more like yoga. The Camino never sleeps.
In the room also slept an elderly American gentleman -although with a very good physical appearance. Mr. E. had been walking the Camino from Navarra for more than three weeks. Every day he got up early and walked until lunchtime, which is when he would start looking for lodging. A very nice and interesting man; he was a delight to talk to. However, it is a real pity that inside Mr. E. is trapped the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer lion, who struggles trying to get out every night. After two hours of exalted roars, even though I had earplugs in my ears, I was already about to jump into his bed and give him an exorcism or something. How do you want me to be one of the first ones out the next day? Mental note: statistically investigate whether those who start the first day on the road are the loudest snorers. Corollary: explore the theory that snoring in D Major is, in reality, a tool to eliminate competition to find a place in the hostels next day 😛
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