Warning: There are no pictures from today since it was raining and the ipad was in plastic.
Ok, say in your best Forrest Gump impression, "I didn't know what else to do so I just kept on walking and walking and walking......" Ha, I heard you...pretty good!
We packed up our backpacks at the Hotel Montenegro with a feeling of almost dread at the thought that we would be walking once again after such an epic finish two days before. I had been wrestling in my mind as usual, with the thought that after walking all day in the rain into Santiago, miserably wet, that I did not care if I walked to lands end or not. The bus or taxi would be fine by me. While John agreed with me for all of about two seconds, I knew he would be walking but I was perfectly willing to meet up with him there. I knew I wanted to go there but walk another 88k or 55 miles? Not so much.
Most people who walk to Finnesterre after completing the Camino walk usually do it in a three day stretch at 30 some kilometers each day. I was not willing to do this much less even think about it. Ok, for those of you really reading this blog, I am here to tell you that we took 4 and 1/2 days to complete this section.
Our few days in Santiago were celebratory for sure. Meeting up with friends who had the very same feelings as I did initially, but ultimately deciding to walk again, finally convinced me. And they were right. After letting the finish sink in, I knew I wanted to walk.
Until we got too far out of Santiago, following the familiar yellow arrows in the pouring rain once again, to turn back.... About 10k into the walk, we came upon a bar where we dripped in, shed the packs, ordered cervesas, changed into dry socks, wrapped plastic bags around our sock feet and marveled once again at the kindness of our hosts who put up with our sopping wetness all over their floors and in their chairs like I'm sure they are used to. Used to pilgrims anyway....but being brought a tapa with your drink instead of the dirty look you want to give yourself has been so appreciated along the way. When we left here we found ourselves on a steady steep incline for another 6k or more in the poring rain. It made me feel the exact same way as I did on a childhood hike with my family up to Mt. Leconte in the Smoky Mountains in soaked through tennis shoes on trails like creek beds so long ago.
We walked 21k to Negreira which upon arrival did not look real inviting. Let the search for accommodation begin again. We went to an albergue that had been advertised, asked if they had a private room, yes, can we see it, yes, does it have a private bathroom, no, let's look at it anyway, I'm so wet and tired. She let us drip to the room which was in a place with 2 bunks. I looked at John's face and knew we would not be staying. She said it's ok. Trudging back out into the rain in the coming twilight, as if light was a factor at all, which it wasn't, John said he couldn't bring himself to stay in what felt like a bomb shelter....even though that is what we felt like.
We wandered around saying OMG lets go back to the ugly hotel we spied upon arrival thinking it would be the only shelter in the storm. Something told us to just walk another half block more and as we rounded the corner, there was an inviting light with a sign saying La Mesquita Hostel. As we walked into the bar where the reception was we saw a familiar face. Larry, who we had walked with for a few days off and on coming into Santiago! He asked where we were staying and said we didn't know yet. He told us this was a good bet. As we sat and dried out after checking in, our friends johncasey and his walking friends, Canadian Brett and his Irish girlfriend, Barb, walked in covered in ponchos and rain and were a sight for sore eyes. We were so glad to be meeting up with our fellow pilgs or pilgees (as we taken to calling ourselves) once again. Feels like a mini Camino!
40euro for the best most comfy bed on the journey, lovely people who whisked our soaking wet boots away (we didn't know where they went but were told they would be dry by morning), and an amazing proprietress who put up with my impatiently pushing buttons on her washing machine whose Spanish instructions I did not understand. She also served up a mean Galician caldo soup and other really good food. When asked what we wanted for postres (dessert) I said torte heilado and John said ice cream cake. She brought the desserts and set mine down and looked at John saying "torte heilado" and set the exact same dessert in front of him and said "ice cream cake". Spanish lessons included, we had a good laugh about that one. Oh, and did I mention we had one of the best bottles of wine with our pilgrims meal too? The good with the bad, I am reminded of what is so magical about the Camino experience. Wine makes everything better.
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