Day 24: It Always Rains in Galicia

I awoke before the alarm and was out of Casa Domingo before six. Wow, did I pick well.  The only part missing was the shower scene. 

That's where I spent the night... It was really dark out, and it seemed to be staying dark longer.  I ascribed it to the fact that I'd been at this for three weeks as the days shortened and had traveled significantly Westward.  I should have checked the weather forecast. 

The day started out beautifully enough. 

I knew that there would be some heights to climb on today's hike, but these slopes seemed to go on and on. Just before seven AM, I remembered that the Buen Camino map could show the route in profile, so I could see how much climbing was left. 

Damn! I'd barely scratched the surface!  I hadn't had much to eat since the prior afternoon,  and of course, no coffee.   I felt sluggish climbing.

But, the views were awesome. 

I was stopping about every ten minutes to catch the views looking down at the clouds.

There had to be a town with coffee in my future.  

After 9, heading downhill outside a town named San Xusto (the Galicians love their x's), I met a pilgrim going in the opposite direction. He wished me "Buen Camino", and I noticed he was wearing a scallop shell, the symbol of the Camino de Santiago.   I asked him if he was heading home.  The response surprised me.

"I'm going to Rome, then Jerusalem."  In the middle ages, those were the big three pilgrimages.   He'd been on the road for 65 days, having started in Valencia.  He'd also been doing this for a few years, and everything he owned was in his backpack. 

Thoroughly impressed,  I asked an insightful follow up question:  "Is there a bar in this next town?"  He said it hadn't opened yet.  A townswoman passing said that it should be open daily at nine. I held my breath.

There it was! It was 20 after 9. I dropped my backpack,  and was met by the lady working the counter.  "Please wait", she said. For the next ten minutes, I cooled my jets outside, while she did all kinds of stuff.  Finally,  at 9:30:

As I sat under the overhang on that porch, it started to rain. I sat there for a half hour making arrangements for places to stay the next two nights, and it continued to rain the whole time.

I got up to leave during a lull, but within a minute,  out came the hideous blue poncho.

Now that I'd had coffee, I was springing up the slopes.  I felt like Popeye after a can of spinach.  It was pretty funny. 

It would rain for the rest of my walk.

Taking pictures wasn't as spontaneous as before.  On this Camino,  my phone had acted weird in the rain. Programs would open by themselves,  the fingerprint sensor became useless, and the worst was when water got into the charging port. 

I continued walking,  glad I'd shaved ten kilometers off today's effort.  If there were no impediments,  I might make it to my objective, Mondoñedo,  by 1 PM.

Let's talk about corn cribs, known as horreos.  You saw the photos of the big square ones in Asturias.  In Galicia,  they're a different shape, rectangular. I tried to capture the perfect one.

Well, you get the picture. 

An hour after that coffee,  at 11 AM, I got to the town of Lourenzá,  the end of the recommended day 29 itinerary in the book.

It's a sizeable town with plenty of places to stay and an impressive church in the main square. But I was wet and not thirsty.  My objective was less than two hours away.

I made it to Mondoñedo just after 1, and was shown to my room in a hostel.  With a private bath... I showered and washed my clothes in the sink. Let's hope they dry in this humidity.   Then I went out to lunch nearby.

Chipirones a la plancha, grilled young squid.  Galicia is the rainy Atlantic northwest of Spain,  like Seattle.   A lot of the fishing fleets are based here.  The seafood is awesome. 

Oh, and Mondoñedo has a cool cathedral from the 13th century. 

I got my pilgrim credential stamped there.

There's a reason I opted to cut ten kilometers off tomorrow.   Look how it starts: 

I'm not psyched. I've got this planned out so there are five more days to Santiago, 150 kilometers. 

Update on Tina: she's getting better, but not well enough to meet me tomorrow in Vilalba.  She's going to fly to Santiago on the 26th, our 37th wedding anniversary,  and she'll be there to meet me, hopefully the next day.

As a bonus,  the honeymooners, my son Chris and his wife Laura,  will be there too.  (Tina and I were supposed to be arriving together. They were planning to meet us.)

Tune in tomorrow to see what happens,  and please pray for no more rain!