Not so solo

Last night I stayed at a massive convent in the town of Samos, down in a green valley alongside a small river. Around the high stone walls loitered horned cattle and herds of ducks; vegetable gardens stretched along two sides. I had meant to stay in the previous town, Triacastela, but there I met Rachel (with whom I had dinner in Villafranca del Bierzo) again, and she convinced me to walk on another eleven kilometers. She was sitting at a table outside a bar/cafe and said she had thought I might come along, and so she had waited (this though I hadn´t seen her for a day and a half). I sat down and she gave me half her cheese bocadillo and invited me to come see her in England after I finished the Camino. She laughed and I smiled and didn´t know what to say.

We picked up Ben and Mandy in the town too, and the four of us walked to Samos together. This was one of the most pleasant and picturesque stretches yet, along a small stream, in under large trees, along the bottom of a small and lush and green green valley. There was no one else about.

I had started the day climbing steeply out of La Faba, in a light rain, towards the high point of O´Cebeiro, an ancient, stony village draped with fog. From there I dropped a long way down into Triacastela; by that time the sun had come out and dried me off. Also by that time I had walked twenty-six kilometers, so the extra stretch to Samos made this my longest day in some time.

At the convent, peregrinos shared a long room filled with about fifty bunkbeds. The curved ceiling was painted with flowers and medieval peasants scything wheat. There were no pillows, and an old German man had the bunk below me--an ominous sign.

I soon went off for a walk in the small town, and at a tienda I bought bananas, bread, and one of the best ice cream bars I´ve ever eaten. At an adjacent libreria (newstand/bookstore) I waited an hour while the man at the single computer played video games. My cyber needs are no more important than anyone else´s, I suppose, but this was annoying.

Later I had dinner with my travel companions at a restaurant across from the convent. Salad and chuletas yet again for me (I did actually get chicken in La Faba the night before), and an excellent tart helado for dessert. I learned that Ben goes on ten-day silence retreats (which is not the right word) at Buddhist temples several times a year.

Back at the albergue, the bedtime preparations were especially noisy. There are more Spanish on the Camino now, as it gets later in summer and I get closer to Santiago. And the Spanish see no reason for lowering their voices. They talk loudly to each other form bed to bed, and across the gaps, and the Germans, trying to sleep, shush them.

Today I left the albergue at seven rather than six. My Camino social life is changing my walking habits. Which is good, I´m glad to be with people, but there´s something lost too. I paid less attention to the land today, more to the conversation.

It was raining when we left Samos, and it rained all day, at times quite hard, harder than any previous day. My feet were soon squishy, and eventually the rain got through my suppsoedly waterproof gear. And it was cold. By noon we had reached Sarria, only fifteen kilometers from Samos; Ben decided to stop, and I wanted to as well, but had decided to go on with Mandy and Rachel, who both had deadlines that required them to do more walking. I peeled off to find an ATM (Sarria is large), and when I met back up with them at the albergue Ben had chosen, Mandy and Rachel had decided to stay too. Excellent. I was chilled and soaked right through.

It´s afternoon now and the sun has finally appeared, but I´m glad to have stayed in Sarria. As much as walking, I´ve come to appreciate the afternoons of showers and reading and talking and writing and ambling about town.... Speaking of which, I have some of the latter to do right now. And then of course there´s dinner.

Five more days to Santiago, after that three or four more to the sea. But things change so much in just a couple days. I don´t really know what´s ahead, except for more walking.