Day 32 - Lavacolla to Santiago, 9.9km, 3.0hrs, 21 May

That's it then.  812km in 32 days.  That includes a few kilometres for getting lost at times, walking around looking for a room, etc. as well as lower distances for shortcuts on a couple of roads and around the town of Boo. What's next?

Before I get too reflective, I should talk about the final 10km.  It was the easiest, most casual walk we have done in the month. Our bags magically are weightless by now.  We don't really notice them.  

We started at 6:30am to see if we could catch up to our friends so the dawn was cool and perfect for walking.  We walked through the neighbourhood of Villamayor and passed the grounds of the television station as well as the camper van park.  In no time at all, we were also passing the massive property of the Monte do Gozo Albergue that can accommodate more than 400 pilgrims.  While we saw a good number of pilgrims today, fortunately that albergue wasn't anywhere near capacity.

A surprising number of pilgrims passed us walking away from Santiago.  Some may have been walking home but I assume most were using the early morning to walk to the airport for their flights homeward.  It's amazing to think "after walking 800km, why would I need a taxi when the airport is only 12km from the Cathedral?" but that is how pilgrims think. 

Crossing over the highways and rail lines, I remembered our first time coming this way.  Then, I was looking for the cathedral spires after every twist in the road.  My impatience made the walk seem longer.  This time, I just kept thinking, yes, I remember this store, this park, this street, this fountain, this bridge, etc.  When we crossed the road to enter the old city, the excitement got higher and higher.  We stopped though for some breakfast and a pause in case our friends were behind us still.  We had our first churros of the month in Spain and they were excellent.

Through the old city, the walk was like visiting our childhood neighbourhood.  We have walked these streets enough to get all nostalgic, "remember this restaurant where we met the ...", "hey, here is the store where we bought..." and "oh, wow, remember this church where the priest...".  

Minutes later, there was the Cathedral.  The front is still mostly draped in scaffolding for the ongoing renovations and cleaning.  It does detract from the ambiance but it's needed.  The Plaza de Obradoiro in front was surprisingly empty this Sunday morning but we assumed that Pilgrims were either in mass or had not yet arrived.  We went down to the Pilgrim office to get our Compostela and found Bart and Janek there, having just received theirs.  Those guys had changed plans this morning and left early so we were looking the wrong way for them.  That's okay though, we had churros.

After a quick trip to the hotel to drop off our bags, we headed back to the Cathedral and caught the end of the earlier mass.  Our strategy worked great as while mass was going on, we could visit the crypt of St. James and hug his statue behind the main alter, without having to queue more than a minute.  We also got to see the botafumeiro swing at that mass although I spent part of that time asking people to sit back down, as instructed by security.  I know that everyone was warned ahead of mass that the use of cameras, videos and cell phones is strictly forbidden but it is a laugh when 99% of the attendees film the botafumeiro swinging.  Really?  With a million identical versions available on YouTube, people still think it is better to experience this spectacular event through a viewfinder just so that they can relive "their" version.  People can be funny.

That said, after mass, we headed straight for a pew near he front to wait for the noon pilgrim mass to start.  We wanted a good seat to see the botafumeiro. :D.  Fr. Bart was going to be a concelebrant and we wanted to be ready to stand and shout every time he spoke.  Luckily, we did get to experience the botafumeiro a second time today but some wacky tour guide started getting everyone to applaud after it finished.  That was classless enough for the main celebrant to gently scold the congregation in Spanish with "I will take it that the applause was for God and not the botafumeiro."  I had to laugh.

After mass, all the friends were gathered up and we had a final lunch and later dinner with them all.  We will miss them. A lot.

On reflection, while resting before dinner, I was thinking.  Time occasionally treats us well.  I will soon forget the burning blisters, the tired legs, the bitter cold, the whipping wind, the scorching sun and the stinging rain.  Like a woman having given birth, I will soon forget the pain and remember only the good.

But time can also be mean to us.  As I get older, I also know that I will forget the names.  Later, I will even forget the faces and probably the stories, the jokes and the experiences that we shared.  But when I am old, and I am feeling the ridges of my Santiago shell between my fingers, rubbing it nearly smooth, I will never forget that the shell represents the joy I have had, walking not just this Camino but the others as well.  I will remember the happiness I felt, but maybe not the reason being that during almost 3,800km of trails so far, we have had truly amazing experiences and met some of the most beautiful, giving and caring people.  Fellow pilgrims, not our legs, make these Caminos.  

Thank you Melanie, for sharing another great Camino together.  We do these walks with each other but our best walk is the one that we have done, hand in hand, over the past 28 years.

Peace y'all.

The view outside our hotel window.

The view outside our hotel window if I lean out the window, on my side, with Melanie holding my legs.

Day 31 - Ribadiso to Lavacolla, 31.9km, 9.0hrs, 20 May

Our last full walking day was also our first walking the entire day on the Camino Frances.  We needed to remind ourselves that things were going to be different.  Some pilgrims really get upset of the drastic differences they see between the Camino Norte/Primitivo and the Camino Frances, once the two merge in Melide.  There are many, many more pilgrims on the Frances.  Many of our new fellow pilgrims are also walking shorter stages and / or shorter Caminos (like 4 or 5 day for 100kms). A larger percentage are not carrying their gear and there are many walking as part of large tour groups.  I think we were mentally prepared for the changes for the most part although I still had difficulty with two aspects.

Dawn with fog in the neighboring valley.

In order to walk part of the day with our friends who were staying 7km in front of us, and so that we could avoid some of the mid-day sun, we started walking early again at 6:00am.  The walk out of the village was along a main road all the way to Azura, 3km away, so it was well-lit although quiet on a Saturday morning.  I was surprised that we didn't see any other pilgrims until we got to Arzua.  I thought there was supposed to be a bed race.  Did we leave late?  We had reservations at a hotel in Lavacolla but where were the others?

We planned to have breakfast in a bar on the main square where we had lunch five years ago when we stayed in Azura while walking the Camino Frances.  We arrived just as three French bicycle pilgrims arrived.  Oh yeah.  I forgot about them.  As we approached the entrance of the bar, they carefully parked their bikes in a perfect line, the front wheel of the back two bikes touching the back wheel of the one in front of it and the bike in the front touching the the table next to the door.  With the most graceful of elegance and efficiency, they blocked any frontal attack on the bar from the south with their nine meter blockade.  We stood on the wrong side for a few seconds, just staring at the riders in awe when one of them must of realised that my foot was already cocked as a battering ram.  He came back and temporarily moved one bike so we could go inside.  So sweet.

After breakfast and topping up cash at an ATM, the next 11km was a mixture of small roads and good walking tracks through countryside that we recognised from five years ago.  I think that it's amazing that the route felt so comfortable and familiar.  I didn't know every twist and turn but when I did turn a corner and look up, I had much more than a feeling of deja vu.  I knew exactly that I had been there before.  I could even remember who I was talking with as we walked certain stretches.  Why can't I remember where I put my car keys this morning?

We timed our start today, and our breakfast stop, pretty well because shortly after passing the road in this section that would lead our friends from their albergue near Divideira back onto the Camino, both Jens and Janek caught up to us after their late start.  We were able to walk and speak with them for several kilometres before we stopped for breakfast #2 at a bar where Dominika and Agata were waiting.  It was good to catch up with them again.  One thing I noted though was how fast Melanie was walking while speaking with Janek - particularly up hills.  Even Jens wondered if Janek was carrying Melanie and every time we turned to look to see how far behind they were - always closer than we expected - Janek would quickly put her down and she would walk a few steps while we watched.  Sneaky!

The next 7km was mostly spent on the sidewalk next to the busy N-547 trunk road or within spitting distance of it on a parallel service road.  This section was mostly forgettable except that it provided some relief from the bicyclists who were previously zooming past us without notice on the trails.  Now they competed with the cars for road space and I have to admit that I hoped the cars snuck up on them then, without warning, zoomed past them, just inches away.  That's karma, baby.  

Another thing that was getting to me a bit was all the pilgrim graffiti.  I really wonder how anyone can be so narcissistic to think that anyone else walking the Camino or living in Spain would care what they "had to say" or who would care that they even existed.  Every single mileage pillar was scribbled on with such wisdom as "Turk's was here 9/2016" (Turk's "what", he didn't say), "Keep going Angie", "JS, we're stoping at Lavacolla" (apparently to take lessons in spelling), and other crap.  Every marker had the mileage plaque stolen and many were missing the scallop shell symbol.  Those with the shells had stickers covering the shell that said in Spanish, "Save the world, Pray the rosary."  Actually, they now only have those stickers on the markers before Lavacolla.  I figured there how easy they were to peel off cleanly.  I "just expressed myself" by removing the ones that I saw after that.  I wish I knew back in Melide.

After crossing the N-547 for the umpteenth time, we came to a bar that I remembered stopping at five years ago.  We had to stop there again for either breakfast #3 or lunch #1.  Agata and Dominika were there so we enjoyed their company a bit longer too.  What none of us enjoyed, out on the bar's balcony, was the sight of the oversized French pilgrim who decided to stop and sun himself a bit at the next table.  He took off his shirt to expose the whale's underbelly and he pulled the legs of his running shorts as high as possible.  With the folds of his stomach hiding some of the material, it looked as though he was wearing a g-string.  As sweet, charming and funny as the girls are, we thought it was time to go and we all ran away as fast as possible.

The final 6km was a walk around the Santiago Airport.  I remember this very well from five years ago but "improved" trails and new roads around the perimeter made it challenging to recognise specific spots.  Also of note here is the last real climb of the walk.  It is only 100m up but it is quite steep.  I moved only 50m or so before I remembered to check on Melanie.  She was 40m behind me already.  I just turned and started to climb some more.  When I turned around again, I was surprised that she was still 40m behind me.  I must have slowed down so I started pushing up the hill faster.  A moment later, I heard Melanie's voice behind me, talking to someone who sounded Spanish or South American.  What's going on?  I really got in gear now but in another few seconds, Melanie was passing me with her new Brazilian friend in tow.  And, I could not keep up!  After 800km, I finally figured out what got Melanie moving.  A young, interesting guy like Janek or the Brazilian toy-boy!

When we got to the top of the hill, I caught up to Melanie, shooed away the toy-boy with a not so subtle "Honey, did you remember to take your heart medicine?" and we continued around the airport fence.  During the descent on the other side, some cyclists on the walking trail - only 5m away from the newly purpose-built cycling trail - stopped to ask us directions to Santiago.  After counting to ten, silently in my head, and saying under my breath three times "Get thee behind me, Satan", I directed them in the correct direction, then went the other way to our hotel.  We are staying in a typical, highway-side place, Hotel Garcas.  It's everything you would expect and less.  They do have a decent bar though that has cheap eats.

Dominika had told us that Bart was saying mass at 7:30pm near where their albergue was in Monte do Gozo, about 6km in front of us.  We had missed two previous masses so we didn't want to miss another one.  After washing and hanging our clothes, showering, resting a bit and grabbing a quick bite, we took a taxi down to the "Monte do Gozo church".  Sadly, we didn't see a church where we were dropped off so we hunted for the next 20 minutes.  We asked down the hill at the Polish Albergue next to a larger church but the priest running the albergue told us in halting Pol/Span/Engl-ish that the only mass he knew of at 7:30pm was back up on top of the hill on the other side of the pope John Paul II monument - right where we were dropped off.  Leave it to a Spanish taxi driver to know exactly the church we needed.  I bet he had the mass times for every church in Santiago in his head.  Back there, we found the tiny Ermida de San Marcos with Bart standing outside.  Soon, there were a few dozen attendees including Gerrit, Jens and the girls.  Melanie was chosen to read the English intention.  Jens pulled the wrong straw and after telling the main celebrant an Angolan priest, that he spoke spoke Dutch, the priest heard "Deutsche" and gave him the German intention to read.  Thankfully, there were no "other" Germans there or the imposter would have been found out. 

After mass, we walked over to the viewpoint, overlooking Santiago, and admired the cathedral's steeple in front of the sunset.  We even got a special partial rainbow to mark the occasion.  It was easy to imagine the pilgrims of a millennium ago looking at a similar sight, after walking from their homes in France, Germany, Italy, the Low countries, Scandinavia, Eastern Europe, etc.  They must have been so much in awe but also so thankful.  Then again, they were only about to reach the halfway mark of their Camino.  They still had to walk home.  

After a glass of wine with our friends, we just needed to get a taxi ride back to the hotel.  That was interesting only because we asked someone at the Polish Albergue if they could call a taxi for us so that they could identify the correct pick-up point.  The first person we spoke to there only spoke Polish so she asked for a English / Polish interpreter to translate what we wanted.  We explained to the interpreter, who told the Polish hospitalera, who then called for a Polish / Spanish interpreter to call the taxi company.  Then that person told the hospitalera that the taxi would be there in 10 minutes.  Fortunately, we overhead that on the phone because they were about to get the English/Polish interpreter back again.  That was fun.

Peace y'all.

Day 30 - Ferreira to Ribadiso, 31.0km, 8.0hrs, 19 May

Yet another good day for us, filled with a few good surprises.  We walked a longer distance than usual and woke up earlier than normal to try to keep close enough to our friends that we would see them at least a bit today, tomorrow and Sunday.  They were sleeping 6km in front of us last night and they planned to spend tonight about 7km past Ribadiso so this village is the furthest we were comfortable to plan for.

When the alarm went off at 5:00am this morning, Melanie and I both questioned our sanity but that only lasted as long as the snooze button allowed.  We quietly dressed and packed our gear as I doubt anyone else staying in the casa rural was walking the Camino.  If they were, they weren't getting up before sunrise and they would not have liked to hear us walking about.  The problem with stealth is that it takes too long to tiptoe, particularly when your toes are all bandaged with Derma-Active, Compeed and Band-aids.  When we finally got the front door and gate unlocked, it was 6:00am and still dark.  I finally got to use the torch that I brought along on this trip and carried for 740km so I felt vindicated for packing it.  We only needed it for the first kilometre of the day when walking on a dark, rock and mud path, then a back road.  After that, the dawn was enough to light the way.

Most of the 6km to As Seixas was on the back country roads but a few places had trails through the forest.  At As Seixas, we considered again going off trail a bit to the albergue to see if our friends were still there and to get some breakfast.  Okay, I have to admit that the breakfast was more important but we decided not to because the others had likely left by 7:15am and we thought there were more chances for food ahead on the trail.

The next 8km to Vilamor was mostly on lovey gravel or dirt trails and included at 150m climb and a 300m descent.  Neither really bothered us at all but it does slow us down some.  At one point on the climb, I looked back to Melanie and saw Jens, close behind her as well as Gerrit and Janek a little further back.  Jens put his finger to his lips, then hid behind a rock - a rock about 1/4 of his size with his hands over his face.  I asked Melanie to turn and look and, after a confused few seconds, she burst out laughing when she figured out who it was.  He is such a cartoon.  Soon after, we where all at the top of the hill, just below the misty cloud.  It was a magical moment.

We walked together some distance but Melanie and I can't keep up with them for too long.  Gradually we fell behind and we figured that we might catch them at the next bar.  Speaking of which, where IS the bar?  We still need breakfast!  It wasn't until we reached 15km for the day when we found a bar that was open.  That is too much walking for a decaffeinated wife!  The good news was that not only could we get coffee, juice and tostadas, but Gerrit, Janek and Jens were all there with Dominika and Agatha, as well.  Only Bart was missing.  It was a good stop and I also learned a lot there about the artwork of Picasso and a Camino artist, possibly named Pisacco.  Sorry folks, that's too long a story for me to explain, but it was funny.

We gave everyone a three minute head start leaving the bar while we finished our toast.  We figured we would likely see them next only tomorrow.  Even Gerrit and Agatha, who are suffering from bad knees, ankles, hips and / or heels, are faster than we are, except on steep downward slopes.  There, we let physics work for us and my weight means I can move down the hills at a much better pace.

The next 5km into Melide was fairly flat, country roads, gradually turning into suburbs and urban landscapes.  In Melide, we joined the route of the Camino Frances and the hundreds (thousands??) of people walking that today.  Initially, we only noticed a bit of an increase in pilgrims but every now and then, we rounded a corner and there was a group of 30 or 40 people walking together.  Oh my.  It didn't really bother me but after the quiet Norte and Primitivo, it is a bit of a culture shock.  We took a slight detour over to the main street to find an ATM but we were not successful.  The Primitivo joins the Frances route on the northwest side of the city so, walking westward didn't get me near a bank.  We will last until Arzúa, for sure.

As we walked the 11km from Melide to Ribadiso, we tried to remember sections from our walk on the Frances five years ago.  Back then, we walked that part with a young couple from New Zealand and the US.  For some strange reason, Melanie seemed to recall each climb, whether it was a 10m or 80m climb.  I remember the café where we stopped for lunch five years ago (you can tell what our respective priorities are) and when we reached it today, we decided to have a drink and a sandwich.  No such luck though.  There were 50 pilgrims there and although we could get a table, the barman was rude from the moment I said "Buenos dias".  We got out of there quickly.  My, how times change.

We later found a small local bar that dozens of pilgrims were passing by every minute.  We went in there, said the usual greeting and asked for two lemon sodas with ice and a banana, all in polite, quiet Spanish.  The barman seemed genuinely surprised and impressed.  After getting our drinks, he immediately went over and cut us two big slices of cake to eat as well.  I guess he is used to only a few pilgrims coming in and the ones who do, demand quick service in their own language or just use the bathroom and run out the door.  We really are on a new route now.

The 31km today was just about the right distance for us.  The clouds until Melide made the first 2/3's easy and when the sun came out, we knew we didn't have that far to go and there was a fair bit of shade all the way to Ribadiso.  When we arrived at the bottom of the hill into the village, we crossed a small bridge over a stream and I saw our stopping point for the night, the Pensión Ribadiso, right in front of us.  I immediately started to laugh out loud.  Picture this: Just after the tiny bridge, immediately to your right, is a albergue.  10m after the bridge, directly on the same path but on the left, is the Pensión Ribadiso.  I laughed because I was remembering the negative feedback on booking.com about this place that someone from the UK had written just last week: "It's a little hard to find if you are on the Camino.  More signs from the road would help."  For Pete's sake!  The village only has a dozen buildings and you practically have to trip over the Pensión to see any of the others.  A blind man could find it in 15 seconds if he was standing on the bridge and I told him which side of the bridge to get off of.  Sheeehsh!  How did Clive from the UK manage to walk all the way from Sarria with his navigational skills?

Another fun thing about the pensión, the nice gentleman who registered us, told us that we were getting room #1 and then walked us to our room.  He didn't have to go far.  Room #1 was about a meter away from my butt as I leaned over the reception desk to sign the credit card chit.  It's a corner room and out one window is the small bridge over the stream.  Out the other window, I can put my hand out and high-five pilgrims as they pass by.  Several stuck their heads in to check out the room.  Better still, just when I was getting out of the shower - fortunately, the bathroom has a door - I heard a familiar voice.  Gerrit was walking by, looked in the room and saw Melanie sitting there so they had a chat through the window.  Apparently, the group had decided to detour into the middle of Melide and have a real proper pulpo (traditional Galician octopus) meal.  Soon thereafter, Jens and Janek stopped by to say hello and later still, Agatha and Dominika did too.  This place is great!  That said, we probably saw about 300 pilgrims pass by after 2:30pm.  That means that there are likely 1,500 or more arriving in Santiago the same day we will be.

We just had a semi-decent pilgrim's meal at the restaurant across the path.  The decent part of the "semi-decent" was that we sat with a Japanese man from Sweden (yes, I said that right).  He was sitting by himself so we invited ourselves to sit with him.  We had a very enjoyable conversation with him and talked a lot about the Shikoku 88 Temples pilgrimage walk in Japan which he competed last year.  That's now back on our wish list again.  By the way, the not so decent part of the meal was spaghetti with ketchup, rather than any semblance of a tomato sauce and the waitress who was in such a hurry that she never had time to bring the plates all the way down to the table when serving them.  She just dropped them from about six inches above the table.  The service industry must tire easily from pilgrims.

It's bedtime for me.  Melanie has been sound asleep since 8:30pm. We will try to wake early again tomorrow but we'll see.  It would be good to see the group again.  We will actually walk further than they do tomorrow so we can be within striking range for the final short walk into Santiago.

Peace y'all.

Day 29 - Lugo to Ferreira, 28.2km, 7.5hrs, 18 May

Another delightful day for a walk with only a brief interruption of rain.  We started early but not as early as yesterday and we also got to walk some with friends and we are staying in a very nice casa rural.  We can't ask for anything more.

We checked out of the Presidential Suite at the Hotel Ohsoveryfancy at 6:30am and headed straight out of town through the St James Gate.  We kept our eye out for a bank to draw some funds and a café to get some Camino breakfast but we didn't see either.  We also kept an eye out for friends and other pilgrims as we passed the albergue our friends were in.  Yet again, they had walked 1.5km back up a steep hill into town to have dinner with us, then back down last night.  No wonder Gerrit said he would rest instead last night.  We didn't see anyone stirring inside their place at 6:50am so we kept walking.

From the walk into Lugo yesterday, and out today, I started to wonder if the town was protected not just by the walls and the Roman army but also a 100m moat.  Both days, we had to walk the steep hill that Lugo sits on top of but also the steep hill that the suburbs sit on.  At the top of the steep part across the Miño River from Lugo, we saw a petrol station on the main road that might have coffee but Melanie didn't want to stop for trucker's coffee.  She said she needed fuel to walk, not something strong enough to keep her awake for 24 hours. By the way, I just realised that the Miño River is also called the Minho River in Portugal.  We crossed this river, closer to its mouth, back in 2014 from Valença to Tui on the Camino Portuguese. Store those little facts in your head for some question at trivia night at the pub.

For the remaining 23km, we were almost exclusively on back country roads but these were a little less quiet during the morning rush hour.  We had cars passing by every few minutes, rather than the once every hour or two we were used to earlier on the Norte or Primitivo when on roads.  There were a couple of chances where the route took us on to very nice natural trails but one of them was about 1.5km and the other only 150m.  We did have a few hills including several steep 100m up, down, up, downs in the final 8km after San Román.  The scenery usually seemed to be farmland on either side of us, dark clouds overhead and small mountains in the distance.

The highlights of the day were when we stopped.  Our first break was about 10km into the walk at a small family run bar in O Burgo.  The bar is about 150m off the Camino and actually looked like it was the former barn behind the owner's house.  As we approached, we saw Dominika and Agatha sitting outside the bar with a rather gregarious Canadian woman.  They had all passed us just 15 minutes earlier.  When we got closer, the Canadian said - far too loudly - that we may have wasted our time walking off the Camino because they only had coffee and bad coffee from a pot at that.  Since I don't drink coffee, I figured that I would keep my backpack on while Melanie got her quick fix.  She would have drunk trucker's coffee at this point.  Well what do you know? We went inside and they had a normally stocked bar.  I had my Kas de Limon and Melanie was also able to get tostadas with her coffee.  While the coffee wasn't that great, as usual, Melanie complimented the old owner and that thrilled him to bits.  He apologised profusely for not having a barista's machine but that just made Melanie praise it more.  That brought out the wife from the kitchen to see just who this was that wasn't complaining and actually saying nice things.  They were so pleased that the brought out a tub of some fruit-based concoction that looked like very thick apple butter.  He cut a huge slice of the stuff and asked Melanie to eat it on her toast.  It was awesome!  I have no idea what it was but he cut me some too and I was happy eating with a fork as well as a stolen piece of toast from Melanie.  The sweet couple also proudly showed off the pueblo's many football trophies that were on display in the bar.  We greatly enjoyed chatting with them and to think, we were almost sent away with warnings of bad coffee.

Another stop happened just after the rain hit us pretty hard.  We had quickly donned our rain gear, which was made ready at least an hour earlier because of the threatening skies.  The rain was the hardest we have encountered yet this trip but we only walked a couple of hundred meters before we got to the tiny taberna in San Román.  This place had enough room for a dozen people, at most, on the customer side of the combination bar / café / deli but, because of the weather, we had 11 pilgrims in there, all with our large backpacks and a few of us with our dripping raincoats.  When the French couple walked in, shaking off the rain, four pilgrims we don't know gave up and left.  It was a bit of a tight squeeze.  Bart and Gerrit were two of the people there so it was good to see them.  We waited out the rain for a bit with a very good hot jamon sandwich and some more Kas.  That barkeep and his wife were were also very nice to talk to and very friendly.  I think the wife was a little worried though, until the skies cleared and people started leaving.  We were just in time too, group five or six people came in just as left.  That place must do a roaring trade as it is right on the route.

As Bart and Gerrit stopped at a leather workshop for a bit, we caught up with them again and I got to walk with Gerrit some.  His legs were sore yesterday so he was not as fast as usual.  That's how I could keep up with him.

Our final stop for the day was in the lovely Casa da Ponte Casa Rural.  I booked it by phone and forgot to ask how much it costs.  I should find out shortly though when we go down for dinner.  If it's more than 50€, I'm going to tell them that it cannot be as it is not nearly as nice as the Presidential Suite at the Hotel Mendez Nunez.  We will see what happens with that.

All our friends are now at an albergue in As Seixas, about 6km in front of us.  Today would have been a 34km day for then but it would have been almost ideal conditions for it.  The sun came out a bit at the end of our walk but Jens and Janek may have already arrived there and the others would have had only 60-90 minutes in the heat. We may see some of them tomorrow but we never know.

That's it for today folks.  We have three days left before we reach Santiago.  It will be an interesting three days I am sure, but we need to get back to real life at some point.  I think.

Peace y'all.