The Chocolate Pilgrim
The hospitalero takes our photograph beside the door of our refugio, and his parting words are, “Remember. You don’t walk the Camino, the Camino walks you.”
The higher we climb, the more the mountain hillsides are obscured by low-lying fog, which creates a sense of mystery to our surroundings.
Keep walking, one foot in front of the other, slowly climbing until we arrive at a monument by the trail indicating the distance left to Santiago.
There’s a surprising amount of snow accumulation on this side of the Pyrenees, with packed boot prints guiding us along.
The road signs indicate distances to unpronounceable village names like Ilurdotz and Antxoritz. These names inevitably remind me of the Asterix and Obelix comics I used to read with Russell and Emma when they were younger.
The wine is free!
We stop for a cold drink around 2:30 and decide to take a siesta at the bar in the village of Villatuerta. I take a photo of the Exhausted Pilgrim, Rod sleeping at the outdoor café, skin reddening from the bright sun.
As we get closer to Logrono, we enter a zone of pink flowers emerging in full glory from larger shrubs that line the road, their blossoms overhanging the trail so that as we walk by, our heads are graced by the touch of soft petals.
As we approach villages, often located on hillsides, deep purple irises, like sentinels, announce that civilization is nearby.
The doors are locked, no way to get in.
Russell with orange dessert in front of him.
Marie and Russell in “Camelot” – Albergue de Brasil, Vega del Valcarce.
Samos Monastery built in the sixth century, continues to provide refuge for pilgrims.
A local woman comes to the park and teaches us about relaxing.
Russell and Marie, applying what they’ve learned about relaxing in Galicia.
Rod and Russell at Mile Zero, Cabo Finisterre
Lighthouse and Atlantic Ocean in the background, a beautiful sunny day for pilgrims to celebrate.
Atlantic Ocean in the background, a fitting end to our long walk.
