Day 26: Vilalba to Miraz, 33 Km.

Last night, I went out and found a Camino arrow so I'd know where to start today.  It was a good plan. 

I leave my hotel at 6:10 and walk to the arrow.  I walk in the direction it says. And walk. No follow-on arrows visible. I look at the app, and it says that I'm blocks from the yellow line that represents the Camino.

I retrace my steps to my starting place, and I see someone with a backpack and walking stick, so I head to follow him. (This worked in Luarca...) I turn the corner, and he's not on the street.

But there's an open door, and I see him inside.  It's a bar. I go in and ask him if he's walking to Santiago.  He answers, "No, I've just been there. I'm heading home."

So much for my plan... But, I found a cup of coffee at 6:15 AM!

I find the Camino on my second try. It goes onto gravel paths through woods before it's even out of the city.  I snap this picture as I rise into the hills.

That's about as good as Vilalba looks. Sorry to sound negative. 

Today's plan is to walk 18 kilometers to a place named Baamonde, and then another 15 to a small town named Miraz.  The books say to buy groceries at Baamonde because there won't be any stores.  OK,  then that's the plan.

About 45 minutes into the walk, I cross a bridge in the forest, and I see this picture perfect scene.

It's a private home, but the Camino goes straight between its buildings. In the photo, starting from the left, there's a perfect horreo, a historic Camino cross, and a perfectly restored stone building.  What you can't see is the gorgeous main house to the right.  Its name is "A Casa do Ponte" (the Bridge House.)

Not fifty feet away, here's the neighbor's wood shed:

I can imagine some colorful dinnertime conversation at the Bridge House.

The walk is good, but it's chilly.  The temperature was 58 degrees when I started out. At least it wasn't raining.  The forecast said the odds of rain were 70% by early afternoon.  Darn.

Just before 8 AM, I came upon the church of San Xoan de Alba and its adjacent cemetery. 

It's an amazing example of Gothic architecture.  In the middle of nowhere.

The Camino goes by lots of small town cemeteries.   They're all walled, and space is therefore finite.   You pay rent on the grave.  If you stop paying,  you get evicted,  and your bones go... somewhere.  An ossuary, I guess.  Nobody remembers uncle Ralph? That's one less bill I have to pay...

In Central Spain, we saw lots of storks on rooftops,  especially church steeples.  Today I saw some, but they were in the fields feeding.

They're enormous birds. 

I don't really know the difference between flagstone and slate, but whichever it is, they use it for everything here.

Perfect fences made of large stones on either side of the Camino. 

This whole house is made of slate pieces. 

I crossed the A8 highway twice today. The first time, on a bridge overpass, and the second through a huge tunnel.  The tunnel had the usual juvenile graffiti,  until I reached this:

I had to stop and stare. It's like a piece by Banksy. If you look closely,  the man's shirt is a collage of the glassed in porches so typical of Galician cities like A Coruña. In his hand, he's holding a wooden shoe, something they used to wear in this very wet, but poor, area.

Baamonde isn't much of a town,  but it has at least two bars and two food stores. At a bar, I got some omelet.  I'd been feeling sluggish on the walk and decided that fruit may be healthy,  but the two peaches I ate in the morning were largely sugar and water.

I decided to buy both cheese and chorizo to tide me over in the upcoming food desert. I ended up going to both stores and having the same experience in each: after putting my stuff at the register, a local lady put her stuff at the bagging end of the cashier station. In each case, she was served first.  It was lame. I guess pilgrims don't matter. 

After Baamonde, the Camino split with no warning and I ended up walking a long way through the woods.  I was pissed.  After the two routes recombined, I came across this: 

The beautiful chapel of Saint Albert.  I thought Tina would appreciate that. Albert was her dad's name.

The promised rain started in the afternoon,  on and off. The smelly ugly blue poncho went on and off until I realized the rain wasn't leaving.  The walk was nice, but not worth photographing if it meant getting my phone wet.

At about 2 PM, I took refuge in a park.

I used the break to answer messages and to check with Google how far I was from my albergue.   37 minutes!  Yay!

This is it. It's run by the Confraternity of Saint James, from England.   Practically speaking, that means that three old British people run the place.  It's very nice, but they don't serve meals.

I walked the half kilometer to the local bar, but lunch service was finished.  So after doing my laundry and hanging it to dry in the humidity,  I served myself lunch from my backpack. 

Yum! Cheese, chorizo, almonds, gluten free bread sticks called "picos", and water.  Pilgrim life.

It's time to charge the phone and get some rest.

Tomorrow's going to be a challenging day, but the last two days will be shorter. The plan is 37 kilometers to a place named Boimorto.  At least I'll get to stay in a hotel.

I'll tell you how it turns out.