Day 25: Mondoñedo to Vilalba with no Rain

Last night,  the owner of the hostel brought me a thermos of coffee,  a gluten-free ham and cheese sandwich,  and some fruit since I was going to leave long before breakfast.  Wow.

All my clothes from yesterday's rain dried except for my hiking boots.  If I'd expected rain, I would have worn my sneakers which dry faster.

The significance is this: my day started with a choice of routes.  Climb a mountain on gravel paths or take a more paved route that's six kilometers longer.  Not wanting to spend the day in wet shoes (or climb the extra height), I opted for the extra distance. 

I still had to climb out of the town, but roads are faster. Here's the view of Mondoñedo from the heights as I left.

Yes, I ate the ham sandwich before six AM.

This is not a Roman Aqueduct.  This is the A8, a superhighway partially paid for by the European Union.  It runs across Northern Spain, and this Camino has been criss-crossing it since the beginning.   It's as if the engineers used the Camino's route as a template. 

At six AM, you couldn't hear the highway,  but I must tell you: it is really loud.  The small towns it runs by will never be the same.  I never appreciated noise pollution as much as I have spending three plus weeks in the forest. 

I crossed the A8 at least three times today. I lost count.

Can you see the windmills in this picture?  These were the first I saw at seven AM, but as I paralleled the ridge line they're on, more and more came into view.  They make noise too, like a far away airplane sound.

I was trying to finish two pages in the guide book today by going first to Abadín after this long detour,  and then to Vilalba,  where I am now.

The first half of the walk, including that extra six kilometers, went through no towns.  Tons of beautiful scenery and the occasional horreo,  but no human interaction. 

Bessie and I shared a quiet moment.  The rest of her little herd was grazing, but she was more interested in the road where I was walking,  beyond the boundary hedge.

I got to Abadín at 10 AM and had another cup of coffee.  I've gone at least two full days without a Spanish Omelet.  I check the guidebooks.  It's 21 more kilometers to Vilalba, and most of the route is on gravel. 

Those wet hiking boots hanging off my backpack drying would have been useful. I head out.  So far, I've only seen one pilgrim,  a young girl going the wrong way and swearing because she left something back in her albergue. 

Check this out.  Those are returnable bottles heading back to Coke and a beer company.   How sustainable.  (A blast from my childhood.)

The day is breezy,  overcast,  and cool.  My hoodie stays on until 11:30.  There's no rain. 

But I'm walking on a lot of gravel and I can feel it through the soles of my sneakers. It's getting tedious. 

At noon I decide to take a fruit break by this ancient Camino marker.  There were a lot of them on the road today. I sat just to the left of it in this photo.

As I was putting my pack back on, that Spanish girl sped by me.  I started walking,  but she was faster.  It's good to be young.  Then, I saw her looking at her phone in front of this sign:

She made a left turn and that was the last I saw of her.

I walked on and came to an old stone bridge where I met Jesús selling wood carvings. 

We ended up talking for more than 20 minutes (in Spanish). He was very articulate and opinionated.  We talked about today's election in Spain,  in which he refuses to vote because "they are all crooks."  I could have stayed much longer,  but I was on a mission. To get to Vilalba and out of these sneakers.

At 1:30, I'd had enough.  Who cares if the boots are damp? It's not like my socks are dry... I swapped shoes and immediately started walking 50% faster.

I finally passed two groups of pilgrims.  First was a group of young Spanish girls talking while music played.  Next were two more Spanish girls so engrossed in loud conversation that I could still hear them from 100 yards ahead.

That figures. When you get close to 100 kilometers from Santiago,  tons of young Spaniards show up to walk the minimum distance required to be awarded a Compostela for completing the walk.  Here, it's a resume builder.  The nature of the walk is going to change for these last few days.

I got to Vilalba just after 3 PM.  So far, it's one of the least nice towns I've walked through with a lot of boarded up spaces.

Today's walk was over 37 kilometers.  The bottoms of my feet are bruised... Tomorrow,  I'll walk another 33 kilometers to a place called Miraz where I'll be staying at an albergue run by British volunteers. That should be interesting. 

I'll let you know.