In La Bibliotheca in Cacabelos

The Cacabelos biblioteca pública has WIFI muy bueno, according to Natalia, so I may bring my computadora here when it’s tiempo ir a trabajar. In the meantime, since yo olvido mi dinero hoy así yo compro nada, I am en la biblioteca escribo mi blog. Those of you who don’t speak Spanish can probably figure what I just said, or tried to say, out. And those of you who do can stop laughing now.

Since I’m on good WiFi, here are some pictures. Don’t skip the video; some of the entry won’t make sense if you do .

Not pictured are Choco (Winner’s son; looks just like her) and Trudy.

At Stef’s we could never put food out the night before because of los ratones (mice, not rats.) That is not a problem here.

Berro is a kitten, not even five months old. He is my workout partner. When I use my resistance band the end dangles down and Berto bats at it. He was so exhausted after our workout yesterday he had to nap for hours afterwards.

Today Gonzalo, one of the volunteers here, touched my arm when he was talking to me and said , “You are strong!” “Porque?,” I asked, wondering how much resistance a mop was supposed to put up. “Because when I touch your arm is hard.” Oh. Thanks?

Gonzalo works in “La Casita,” which is a tiny house on the road that belongs to the albergue. The albergue is down a bit and not visible from the trail, which at this point on the camino is on the edge of the carretera. Gonzalo told me I am doing very well, that my passion for the work is clear. That makes me happy.

Well, I have to be back at the albergue at 2. It’s 1:15 and a 30 minute walk. Catch you guys later.

WIFI Withdrawl

I am so sorry, guys. No WIFI here means I burn through a lot of data even though I am constantly putting my phone in airplane mode. ($60 so far this month and looking to be more since there are eight days left.) There is no way I can upload videos or even pictures. Apparently the internet is really good at the library in Cacabelos, which is only a 30 minute walk away, so I may go on a day I have some real time.l and try to get things uploaded.

I went yesterday but there was barely time to get to the grocery for things I wanted. Coke Zero, mostly.

Here is the highlight reel. The first day there was drama with a pilgrim that wanted to stay an extra day (Drama buscando Juanita; it’s a thing.) He ended up leaving late in the day.

They serve the same meal, vegetarian couscous, EVERY SINGLE DAY here. I’ve read that if you don’t have variety in your diet, you get so bored eating isn’t really worth it. I guess that’s one way to lose weight.

There are five cats here. Luaita, Berto, Trudy, Winner, & Choco. I have met (and have pics) of all but Choco. My cat-loving heart is happy.

Not Many Posts for Awhile

WIFI at my new place has to be negotiated, so y’all may get short sweet posts for awhile and not too many of them. But it sounds like I’m going to be busy here. I may have to write off-line and take a trip into the city to update once a week. We’ll see.

I Was Not Lost in Ponferrada

For the record, missing the bus is not the same as getting lost. I want to establish that clearly. What happened? I’ll get to it.

So last night I knew I wanted meat. My hotel is off a big square so there are multiple restaurants, including this one.

I thought very seriously about going in and telling them they would have to satisfy a Texan, but I decided against it. Nothing on the menu appealed enough to make the effort, and the odds were against it coming up to scratch.

Instead I went to the Italian restaurant. I ordered a cotoletta con prosciutto because it came with a salad instead of fries.

Obviously that is not what I ordered. I ate it anyway, but I left half the fries

I ordered a glass of fruity white wine. I don’t know what the wine is when you do that, but omg, is it good.

I’ve been served this wine more than once. I have GOT to find out what it is

I finished with a scoop of leche merengada ice cream (meringue milk.)

It has a faint citrus taste. It’s pretty good, but I’m not going to rush to have it again.

Afterwards I went to my room, called Mom, repacked my backpack, and took a bath (primary purpose for the hotel.) No, I didn’t take a picture of the tub. Or the room.

I had a huge breakfast at the hotel (eggs, bacon, toast with butter and jam, two kinds of cheese, a slice of lunch meat, a slice of ham, a croissant, and yogurt) and then did a 30 minute walk to the shopping mall.

They had an enormous Carrefour (think Walmart) and I bought three plain long sleeve t-shirts, a short sleeve t-shirt for sleeping (I could not resist the graphic,) a plaid button down shirt, a hoodie that zips, and a plastic rain jacket, all for less than 100 euros (about $110. No pics. Sorry.) Oh yeah, that also included two pair of footies, since while running around Stef’s place barefoot my feet got so dirty I sometimes left footprints in the bathroom, and a sleep mask shaped like a cat. I have a sleep mask, but it was just adorable.

Then I found a store where I bought Vital Proteins collagen, toothpaste, and nail clippers (I had some but I can’t find them.) So I am now all set.

Yes, I spent as much as an extra bag would have cost BUT I haven’t had the hassle of wrangling three bags. Two is enough; trust me. Especially since neither is packed with any regard to their weight, a fact I am highly cognizant of as I schlep them through Ponferrada.

Which bring me to missing the bus. Well, almost. I left my bags in the hotel to walk to El Rosal (the shopping mall,) and coming back I just had two bags, neither of them heavy. I sat in the hotel lobby and got one of them into my small bag, and I could have worn the jackets (I would have been boiling, but I could have done it,) but that collagen wasn’t going to fit anywhere, so I decided to keep the jackets in the bag too and temporarily have three bags. Perfectly fine when you’re taking a taxi.

You have a choice of two bus stops to get to Pieros, the main station or one by the University. The university one was closer to my hotel so I chose it.

View of the university from the bus stop

I had the hotel call the taxi in plenty of time; it got to the stop at 2:53 for a 3:07 bus. Todo es bien.

3:07 comes and no bus. At 3:15 a bus stops on the other side of the street but it’s going the wrong way. Pieros is in the direction of the side I’m on; I checked it on Google Maps. Surely the taxi driver didn’t drop me on the wrong side of the street. That couldn’t have been my bus.

It was my bus.

Me, waiting for the bus on the wrong side of the street

30 minutes later no buses have come along. Well, okay, one does but it doesn’t even pretend to stop. I send a message to the hostel that is expecting me to arrive about now and let them know what’s happened. I start walking towards the big bus station. My pack is so heavy it is stressing my hip, and the strap of my shoulder bag is digging into my neck.

I decide I am not walking to the bus station; I am walking back to the hotel, which is much closer. I will sit in the lobby, charge my phone, and catch y’all up. Which is what I’m doing and now y’all are.

Alsa WIFI Is Working?!

Praise and glory be; the WIFI on this bus actually is working for me! (Spoiler alert. I only thought it was working. Just got a notice of an international data charge.)

It’s in every bus except the small locals, but it has never worked for me till now

I am on my way to Ponferrada. I will stay in a hotel there tonight (I have a bathtub addiction) then go to Pieros and El Serbal y La Luna tomorrow afternoon.

I’m planning on shopping for some warm clothes while there, but I have no idea where they are going to go. My backpack is full, and I even left some clothes at Stef’s place. Snuck ‘em in to the stacks of summer clothes other pilgrims left. (Shouldn’t have asked me to organize the clothes there, Stef.) I feel a little less guilt because my black turtleneck WASN’T there; another pilgrim took it. Hopefully they will take some of these too.

I did remember to get my fan this time, but goodness, that thing is not as big as a pair of shorts and three shirts, even if they are camisoles. I will try and shop (and pack) judiciously or I’m going to be lugging three bags instead of two.

I chose to walk from the bus station to the hotel. 20 minutes. Big mistake. I did not pack like a pilgrim who has to carry their backpack.

I had to climb these while carrying around 40 lbs

At the top of the stairs I met a very sweet lady who helped carry my bag to the hotel.

At first she thought I was a pilgrim. Completely understandable. Then I think she wanted me to stay at her place. I’m not sure; she only spoke Spanish. Once we found my hotel (We walked right past it; yes, I managed to get lost even accompanied by a local) I offered to buy her a coffee, but instead of following me to the restaurant she wandered off. At least my Spanish was good enough to communicate in a limited way.

Now I’m taking a brief rest before going shopping, but I can’t take too long. The stores close at 8:30 or 9.

More Unexpectedness in Pola de Allande

I thought, since the pool is open till September 10th, that summer was summer in Pola till summer was over. No. Right now it’s 57, and the low will be in the forties. THAT’S NOT SUMMER, PEOPLE!

My plan always was to shop for warm clothes when I got to Ponferrada. That’s tomorrow. I’m wondering if I can get some warm boots, too. Thank goodness I brought both pairs of long underwear.

Waking past the pool yesterday I saw something I expected and something I didn’t.

A Citroen. I’ve read about those in books set in Europe. Completely expected

A Suzuki. Well, Japanese cars are everywhere

A Ford. Ford? So many cars available to you, and you pick Ford?!

And does anyone know what this is ?

I had to take the picture this way because the owner was standing beside it.

Later he wasn’t, so…

Yep. That’s an Aston Martin. It gets driven the two weeks a year the owner vacations here.

I also saw something in the grocery I haven’t seen in the US. Maybe y’all have.

Three. Each scent individually then one blended. Make so much scents. (See what I did there? Hee, hee.)

Art Work in Pola de Allande

Stef wanted some new art work, so I did this.

It is based on a design I did for a tattoo I eventually want to get. The shell is a symbol of protection as well as the camino, and morning glories are one of the flowers for September (the month the truck hit me) as well as the flower for Virgo (my Zodiac sign.)

In the Victorian language of flowers, morning glories stand for both love that is eternal and love that is unrequited. As I said in Stories from Webb, the scar the tattoo will cover is a symbol that the love of man may fail but the love of God never does, so morning glories are the perfect flower.

All that doesn’t mean anything to Stef, but that’s okay. It’s a pretty picture. And the first thing you see when you walk in the door.

Second Sunday in August in Pola de Allande

There was another concert today. We missed part because we were expecting to hear it from the house, so we thought it started late. These musicians were much quieter than last weekend’s performer.

Afterwards we ate in a restaurant. All of us were craving meat. This was on the table when we arrived.

Stef and I got the pilgrim’s menu (at the pilgrim price.) Kana got Cachopo, an Austurian specialty similar to Chicken Cordon Blue but with beef, and Michelle got veal.

The pilgrim’s meal started with an Austurian stew. Beans, collard greens ( yes, you read that right,) and potatoes with blood sausage and salt pork on a plate to add separately. Stef said that particular recipe had won a competition and I believe it. It was goooood.

Since Stef and I ordered the same thing, we served ourselves out of one bowl

The vegetable pudding that followed was not my cup of tea, but then peas and cabbage are not my favorite vegetables. The cabbage rolls were stuffed with brisket (also a surprise) with a chicken sauce (another surprise.)

Vegetable pudding is above, cabbage rolls on the left

My dessert was cheese with honey. It was way more liquid than I expected, almost a cream cheese sauce.

And speaking of sauces, last night I made pasta with butternut squash sauce and broccoli. We had a family with two young boys staying with us. As I cooked the others kept asking, “Do you want to mix this with that?” and I kept saying, “No, separada.” You want to make a meal that is a young person’s nightmare? Pasta with squash sauce and broccoli.

By keeping them separate, one young man was able to eat just pasta, and the other avoid the broccoli. We roasted marshmallows in the garden by way of compensation.

Unexpectedness in Pola de Allande

For dinner yesterday I made Bean and Lentil chili. No corn because the grocery was out of it. A lady who was not staying here wanted to have dinner with us so she could eat with her friend, who was staying here. She sat next to me and said, “This is why I love the Camino. I did not expect to be having dinner with an American.” And I said, “Eating chili.” She laughed.

So last night I tried to say something in Spanish and used the wrong verb form. So Kana, who remember is Japanese, corrected me and conjugated the verb for me. So I said, “Among things I did not expect was to be learning Spanish from a Japanese person.” And she laughed.

Yesterday Michelle arrived. She is Asian-American, Chinese I think. I left the kitchen to come write because she and Kana were getting into a discussion about the best way to make rice (as much as one person with little English and one person with little Spanish can) and I am staying OUT OF THAT.

So here I am in Spain eating rice with two Asian co-workers in a house owned by a Dutchman. The world is getting very small.

A la Playa

My friend Montse has an albergue on the Camino del Norte. I took the bus from Pola to Tineo to Oviedo to Vsllaviciosa (a two day trip) and she picked me up on her scooter in Villaviciosa.

Montse lives ten minutes from the beach, so my second day with her I took the bus there. There was a little excitement because I forgot I needed a mask, and had to run back to get one.

I also flagged down the wrong bus. But I eventually made it here.

I’ve heard beaches in Spain are topless. I am here to tell you it’s true. Here’s a picture for proof.

The first topless woman I saw was lying face down on her towel. Well, women in the states do that. But then as I walked around, scoping things out, a woman walked by with everything up top swinging free. All righty, then. The vast majority cover though. Out of the hundreds of women here, I counted twelve who were going topless. I briefly, very briefly, considered making it thirteen, but decided against it.

For one thing, black leggings and hiking boots don’t really go with nothing on from the waist up. (Is it awful that the first thing offended was my fashion sense?) Two, women my age usually cover. I guess it’s because no one wants to see boobs rub a belly button. Three, I didn’t have any sunscreen, and sunburned breasts did not appeal. And four, I’m an American. A southern American at that. No matter what impulses flit across our minds, going topless is just not something we do. I wanted a nice relaxing time at the beach. Exposing myself would not have contributed to my relaxation.

So instead I walked around, then got a bocadillo (sandwich) and relaxed in the shade. For the first time, I feel on vacation.

What I did not eat. I think that’s a pig’s foot; I swear it looked human, with a toenail and everything. The restaurant was a pulpería, and I don’t care for octopus, so I don’t really know why a pig’s foot was stewing there.

Montse was telling me that the Camino Primitivo is popular in the fall because of the leaves. And I suddenly realized, I’m going to see the fall colors! For the first time in 58 years. I don’t have to go to New England. I’m on the same parallel. I’m excited!

Montse has each guest put a pin in the map for where they are from.