Day 23: La Caridad to San Vicente, another 31 Km.

I promised I'd stay in an albergue,  and this was a nice one, but you can't fix the other guests... I was thinking about it, and in Spain,  there's no concept of an "indoor voice".  They grow being a part of large social gatherings both indoors and out.  They project. Needless to say, the place was loud and sleeping was a challenge. 

Plus,  it doesn't matter where you are, somebody always shuts the windows and turns the dormitory into a sauna. Always!

I snuck out at 6 AM through the back door, and headed out of the little town of La Caridad.

The town church, lit up,  at 6 AM.

The path went through town and very soon changed to one of those narrow rocky paths through the woods.  Thank goodness for my headlamp. 

In the distance,  large sounding dogs started barking.   "They must have some really good hearing," I thought.  The barking got closer and closer.  (Here, it bears saying that I don't like dogs...) Finally,  I held my hiking poles up and whacked them together as menacingly as I could.  They made a funny sound.  The barking dogs came no closer.  (There may have been a  fence between us, unseen in the dark...)

I come out of the woods, and snapped this photo:

My left hiking pole feels weird.  I look at it with the headlamp.   I cracked all the carbon fiber successfully fending off that vicious, fenced in dog!  I guess that's why you can't make submarines out of this stuff.

I shortened that pole by ten centimeters,  hiding the broken part.  I now have two different sized poles but they work.

The roads were largely paved and ran behind people's houses or through fields.  It was brisk walking.  I came across this effigy in someone's yard:

It's a scarecrow,  dressed a knight of Saint James, with a sign over its head that says "Buen Camino!" I can't help it, but I got really choked up.

This walk, the Camino,  is really special.  It's hard. It tests you.  Yesterday,  Fran and Nuria said that they felt  a change in themselves after only two days.

It's made more special by how many strangers wish you "Buen Camino!" Old men, little kids on bikes, ladies jogging, construction workers... Out of pure kindness,  they wish you well on your journey. Enough said.

A half hour after that last photo, I was on the coastline, working my way towards the town of Tapia de Casariego.

Beautiful rocky coastline and beaches.

I get to the town, it's 8:30, and I've walked 10 kilometers,  half of what the book prescribed for the day. My reward? 

Pretty predictable... If I could eat gluten,  that would be a chocolate croissant,  hands down.

At this point, I'm thinking,  I should make Ribadeo by 11:30, and that's where my English friends are going to end today.  Let's see if there's anything left in the tank and if I can cut some mileage off tomorrow's tough plan.  I walk on.

My final two hours walking through Asturias are beautiful. 

What a beautiful part of the world!  I need to come back.  And the weather has been stunning, with highs in the 70's.   What's not to love?

I approach the river separating Asturias from the last province on this walk, Galicia, right on time.  Why am I making such good time?  First, the roads are paved and relatively flat.  Second,  after three weeks of constant walking,  you become like a machine. 

Ribadeo,  the first city in Galicia on this walk, as viewed before walking over the Puente de Santos.   This is supposed to be the last stop of day 28, according to the guidebooks. 

I walked to the main square at 11:30, sat in an outdoor cafe, and ordered a coke.  I looked in the guidebooks,  and there were two small places to stay in two towns, 7 and 10 kilometers down the road. The closer one had a reputation for closing with no notice.   I called the other.  No answer. 

This new process of winging it takes some getting used to.

I get on the web and find a second number and dial it.  It's the right place.  Of course, I can stay the night!

I start walking uphill out of the city.  Say goodbye to the water views for a while.

This a panoramic shot from above Ribadeo.  That's the sea on the left and the Ribadeo River on the right.

Galicia is beautiful too. I saw this scene and I wished I was an oil painter:

This Northern part of Spain is called Green Spain for good reason.  Look at these views. 

One thing to like about Galicia on the first day is the clear, consistent  waymarking. 

These posts appear every few hundred meters and by every possibly ambiguous intersection.   It's wonderful!  This will save battery life on my phone as I cut back on using the app. They also say how much further you have to go! 

It's 1:38 PM, and I reach my destination,  Casa Domingo.

I walk into the bar and there's the owner and a delivery man having a beer.  I tell the owner who I am and he shows me to my room before doing paperwork.  That's fine. I'm hot and pretty rank after over seven hours of walking. 

Come and have lunch.

No menu. I explain the gluten problem, and it turns out that his daughter has celiac disease.   (There is such an awareness here. It's amazing.)  I essentially am given what I can eat.

Caldo Gallego, a very typical regional soup with potatoes and kale. 

A ton of baked chicken with fried potatoes.   Some local Ribeiro white wine, water, and flan.  I can pay for everything at eight o'clock tonight. 

That's different. 

I do my laundry in the bathroom sink.  If you happen to be driving by today, that's my stuff outside on the street.

So that's the update.  The waymarkers say that there are 180 kilometers to go.  Tomorrow's plan is to walk to someplace named Moldoñedo. Thanks to this extra push, it should be only about 26 kilometers but with elevation. 

I'll tell you how it works out.