After a dreadful night with one of the worst snorers imaginable, we got up to find that fortunately the forecasted rain came during the night. We ate a quick breakfast breakfast from out packed food, said a goodbye to Sarah as she headed off to Muxía and who knows where from there. We started out on another soft morning of mist hanging over the hills, with cool walking weather. We rocked along. We reached the round about where the split between the routes to Finisterre and Muxía meet. At that point we were retracing our steps out. But it’s amazing how different things look going the opposite way. We stopped for coffee at Hospital, where the owners remembered us, which was sweet. Eventually we stopped for lunch at one of the bars we had before and who did we run into, but Mariana, the French woman, who had been hiking with Leo. Small Camino world. We later stopped to chat with three Spanish cyclists. They were asking about places ahead and wanted to know why we were headed backwards. We mentioned that we would be back in Santiago on Saint James’s feast day…. Not exactly what we wanted, but it’s how things are timing out. They mentioned that both the King and President of Spain will be there. Oh, my. Sounds hectic. They weren’t fans of either.
Onward we walked, heading for Santa Marina, where we had stayed at Casa Pepe. Much to our dismay we found it completely closed due to a first communion celebration. The choice was to walk back one km to a less than stellar looking albergue or hike onward another 7.5km km. I chose onward. Luckily all body parts were in good order with nothing screaming to stop.
We meandered on. At one point We came across a Spanish family on holiday. Looked like a Cluster F**k to me. Dad pushing a child cart, mom with a baby in a sling, also pushing a baby cart, two kids looking to be about four and two. And a dog. Yikes. I think I would have found another vacation option for a few years.
We continued. We finally came into the town of Vilaserio where we hoped to find an albergue Sarah told us about. Mandy stopped to ask some women where it was located. At that point, the old woman in the mix came walking out the gate and stated that she would show us the way. Oh, my. She must have been closer to 80 than not, walked with a cane, was barely over 4 feet tall, had the usual thick legs with support hose. And half her teeth. And very chatty. She powered up there hill better than I ever expected. She led us to a local albergue that had space, not the one we were seeking. And I was tired, so we decided to stay there.
We got settled in, showered and sat down for much deserved drinks. A bit hectic as there was obviously another first communion celebration. And then cows were herded past. Life in rural Spain. Now to dinner and hopefully a better night’s sleep. Especially after Mandy ordered a beer with dinner and got two instead. Somehow I think she’ll manage.