The Rain in Spain

After a less than ideal night in the Hotel Celta in A Guarda – one pillow between 2, threadbare sheets that both Maureen & Steve and Claire & I ended up tearing – I was up around 7:00, restless to get outside.

There were a few drops of rain, so I checked the forecast.

Shouldn’t be too bad, I thought, so set off into the darkness.

I’d almost forgotten that the Galician markers go to 3 decimal places. That’s right, 3! Because every Pilgrim needs to know to the nearest metre how far it is to Santiago.

Just us out in the dark and cold this morning. Seemed like a solid sort of chap, bit stiff though.

The trail out of town was narrow and close to the water. I looked back and said farewell to A Guarda.

It was cool and pleasant walking. I passed several pilgrims making their way out of town. We all had that look of pilgrims in a desperate search for coffee.

The Way alternated between quiet laneways and the main road.

By now I was getting desperate for a strong coffee and something to eat.

Thankfully a small cafe came into view but it looked closed. Just as I was about to walk past, two Pilgrims walked out. Yes!!!

What a great breakfast. Except, just as I took my first bite, it started raining. Nothing for it but to don the raincoat and grab the umbrella.

It was pretty walking in parts.

Then back to the wet main road.

There were lots of Pilgrims around. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re closer to Santiago or whether a lot of Pilgrims have made their way north to get away from the bushfires.

It was closed, so I trudged on in the rain and amused myself.

When I’d knocked over 20km I stopped for second breakfast. Cafe cortado, a huge glass of fresh orange juice and more Santiago tarte.

In the backroads of a village I came across something akin to the Cruz de Ferro. Most Pilgrims I saw this morning didn’t do the deviation up the hill where this was located.

There’s something else I’ve been noticing all along this coast.

I’ve seen a lot of the cabins of boats in backyards. Somewhere to drink sangria perhaps?

As I walked along I listened to the first Preliminary Final between the Sydney Swans and Port Adelaide. The Swannies won. Tomorrow the Cats play Brisbane. Go the Catters!!!

I was a happy Pilgrim when Talaso Atlantico came into view. I’d walked around 26km and was ready for a beer and some lunch.

I’d like to say that after lunch I smashed out another 10 or 15km, but that would be to indulge in deception. In reality, I went to our room and had a sleep.

The view from our room is pretty special.

At 4:30, the four of us went to the massage pool. I’d like to have photos, but you’re not allowed to take them. So here’s a description.

Imagine a pretty large indoor pool with views over the Atlantic. In the pool are a series of spa stations that each massage a different part of your body. There’s also a steam room and sauna as well as a very cold little pool in the middle of the big pool.

For an hour we indulged. By the end we felt like meat that had been tenderised and then cooked sous vide style.

Nothing for it but to have a shower and then go and cool off with a cerveza.