A PERFECT DAY FOR A WALK

Given the recent rain, and the ominously gray sky we awoke to today, you wouldn't have expected much from today's travel conditions. But this has ended up being probably the single best day of walking in the entire Camino to date, and totally reinvigorated my energy for the homestretch to Santiago.

It was the kind of day where, due to a variety of reasons, just walking made you feel wonderfully alive and at home in the world.

First of all, I travelled light. The last two days of heavy pack and rocky roads had started to revive some aches familiar from my early days in the road. So even though today's route was not especially taxing, it seemed prudent to give my joints a break, and I arranged to have my backpack sent ahead for the day. (This was before I discovered the miraculous healing power of the As Seen On TV foot nassager.) I just threw some all-weather layers into a foldaway bag for contingency, and hit the road with a refreshing bounce in my lightened, pain-free step.

Even better, the overcast sky began to clear soon after we passed the city limits. It soon evolved into a beautiful spring day -- warm without being hot, with occasional cool breezes to take the edge off our exertions. All fears of rain were dispelled, and I couldn't remember the last time we'd had such great conditions.

The route was pretty much ideal too. Once we passed the suburban villages, it became a gravel road that slowly rose toward the mountains in the distance ...but so gradually that you hardly felt the incline. Mostly it felt flat and easy with a few rolls in the terrain. But even better, there were small towns spaced out along the route at regular intervals of a few kilometres each, which made it really easy to measure progress, as well as make cafe stops as desired. Honestly, it could hardly have been a better day for walking all around. It was easy to feel good and walk along cheerfully.

One of the early stops was a lovely town called San Catalina, where I saw Alison was one of the many others who had stopped for coffee and breakfast. We got to chatting, and she agreed with my thought to change today's walking schedule, and go one town farther than planned. That would let us change the next day's route so that we ended up in the sizable city of Ponferrada, as opposed to some small town. While we talked, an Irish grandmother named Imelda joined in on our conversation, and it was very pleasant to meet someone new over cafe con leche in the sunshine.

I continued the walk solo and pretty footloose and made good progress going along. In one town I stopped to fill my water bottle and recognized a girl I'd seen in San Martin, when I stopped there for a drink with Tralee on that really hot day. We got to talking, and I was delighted to discover she was not only from Canada, but lived in downtown Toronto as well. Her name was Hannah, and part of the pleasure was that she was the first Canadian I'd met in since Burgos. There are reputedly so many Canadians on the Way, and yet somehow over the last week I had lost all of them, and had only been meeting Americans and other foreigners for days. Even with all the natural warmth and friendliness of pilgrims regardless of country of origin, it was almost a relief to find someone with that subtle but familiar bond of home.

Hannah and I started walking and seemed to keep pace, so we ended up walking together for a good long while -- about an hour and a half, talking about everything from the obvious (so how come you decided to do the Camino?) to more personal stuff. It comes out easily somehow when you're walking, even with people you just met. Plus the fantastic day had us in good moods. It was the first time in three weeks that I really walked with someone (besides Tralee), and it was an interesting change of experience. Usually I listen to audiobooks and get lost in the story, or put on a bit of music as background for my thoughts, but walking and talking is a bit different...almost like a practical expression of what the Camino is "supposed" to be, in terms of connecting to others and yourself through articulation of thoughts. It is actually a bit remarkable I haven't done it before now.

Eventually Hannah left me at a cafe in Rabanal, to go look for an albergue. I decided to pause before continuing to the final destination of Foncebadon a few klicks away, and enjoy a cool drink at the sun warmed patio cafe. I had just ordered a lovely mixta and checked my emails when Alison pulled up moments later; she'd stopped earlier and had ended up not far behind me. She joined me for a break, and we shared a half little of sangria...how is this the first time I've had it after almost a month in Spain?! It was absolutely perfect: an ideal drink in great company toward the end of a wonderful day of walking in perfect weather. THIS is what I'm talking about!

After some R&R it was time to push I and finish the day's traipse. Alison and I left separately in deference to our different paces. But only a few minutes out of town, we hit a sheep field, obliging us to walk not past, but THROUGH the sheep (and under the stern watch of a dog who took his sheep management position VERY seriously). This was such an entertaining photo opportunity that we stopped to take pictures, and then at that point since we were going to the same place it was silly NOT to walk together. So we finished the last few K in friendly conversation in between frequent marvellings at the gorgeous scenery all around us as we went up the mountain, and I really enjoyed how the conversation began to evolve beyond just the casual chat of acquaintances.

At last we arrived in the tiny mountainside town of Foncebadon.

LESS THAN PERFECT

From here on the idyll of the day so far faded somewhat...things didn't get bad or anything, but they did get rather more realistic and typical of Camino life. For one thing, Foncebadon is not all that pretty. It's basically one street lined by a handful of buildings, half of which look like shacks you'd see in a Western. She didn't say anything, but I would totally not be surprised if Alison had been thinking, "WHERE the hell has this chick dragged us?"

The albergue at least looked like a functioning bar-cafe and residential building -- more than any other in town --and indeed, when we came In we were reassured to see it was at least decent highway-roadside-restaurant standard. Not great, but reassuringly familiar at least. And there appeared to be a b&b type set of rooms on the upper level, so at least it seemed to be equipped for "real" (ie non pilgrim) guests. However, once we had signed in and paid, the hospitalero pointed us to the stairs leading downstairs, where a hand lettered sign pointed to ALBERGUE. We pilgrims were going to the basement, which was pretty clearly a former storage area converted and outfitted to accommodate showers and people. I mean, it wasn't horrible, but it definitely had that school-basement feeling.The room we got had five bunk beds in what appeared to have once been an industrial closet.

Oh well. Sometimes that is what you get for less than 10 Euros for the night! At least the water in the shower was hot.

We unwound a bit and thought about exploring the town. But that took about eleven minutes, which included a seven minute visit in the tiny local general store. It's a REALLY small town. Just as well, though, since the beautiful day had suddenly turned very windy and cold. We did see other pilgrims from another albergue standing outside having drinks in a makeshift outdoor bar, and they seemed to be having a great time despite the chill, but we preferred to hurry back and stay in at our suddenly comparatively cosy albergue to wait for dinner. This too was an essay in underwhelm... A decent soup dense with lentils, followed by greasy meatballs and the ubiquitous potatoes, all of it salted as if it had been extracted from the Dead Sea...but, again, that's how it goes sometimes. We eventually retreated to our underground digs and climbed into bed surrounded by the powerful snores of the older Italian gentlemen sharing the other bunks. Despite the odd denouement, it had still been more of an awesome day than not...and tomorrow is another opportunity for more.

To help sort the photos, I've created a new album. ive noticed the uploads don't go up in the order they are filed...so I'll start organizing them by day and destination instead. So if you curious to see some of what made today such a great one, you can see photos in an album called "Astorga-Foncebadon"... Hope that helps improve the experience a little. Thanks for reading!