After a little bit of research, I learned that the best way to get myself to Santiago is not via Palas De Rei (which, from the Primitivo, means a lengthy and unlovely stretch por carretera), but rather to continue on the Primitivo through the mountains, through tiny poblaciones, to the city of Melide (where I am right now, using the free computer room en la biblioteca).

Yesterday was knockout beautiful: I was camped a little ways outside the city of Lugo in the churchyard of Santo Mathías, stopped at the wonderfully kind bar in Burgo for mi desayuno, and kept walking another 30-some kilometers through incredible hills and mountains and villages until I reached the town of Merlán, up in the mountains some 12 km outside of Melide. I was almost out of water, and on the lookout for a fuente, or a brook, or a friendly-looking house where I could fill my water bottles before camping out for the night.

Well, I walked up to a ramshackle little house, with chickens and dogs in the front yard, and a big rainbow flag saying PEACE, and a promising looking faucet. I asked if I could grab some water, and of course I could, and before I knew it, I was inside drinking rooibos tea, looking through the Nomad Log, the pilgrim´s logbook that Mapi keeps. Because, as it turns out, this was la casa de Mapi (Maria Pilar)--a rather under-the-radar refugio (I had no idea it existed unti I walked up to it). So here I am in this incredible little off-the-grid house, with a generator and a woodstove, nothing more than a single room, a kitchen, and a loft, and--as it tends to do in Galicia--it starts to rain. And I am offered dinner, and a shower, and a place to sleep in the loft. And I settle myself down to contribute some poems to the Nomad Log (and a four leaf clover). I slept warm and safe and dry and happy. I woke up late, after a late night of wine and music while waiting for the chicken to cook (yes, chicken for supper--my vegan morals have flown the coop). Un montón de gracias a Mapi y Andrés para una noche inolvidable.

All in all, an incredible night. Magic happens on the Camino, as long as you let it. I don´t plan my days. I don´t carry I guidebook. I follow the flechas and the conchas. I trust myself, and I trust each day to unfold as it is meant to. It´s worked for the past four weeks, and I suspect it´ll carry me through another two days.

paso a paso

I am in the walled city of Lugo this afternoon, and on my way out as soon as I finish my errands. Have I mentioned that cities don´t sit well with me? The traffic, the trash, the noise, the bad air... The thought of Santiago itself actually intimidates me quite a bit, just thinking about finding the post office, the train station, etc, etc. Not to mention the crush of people it will surely be. I am much, much happier out in the middle of nowhere, walking with my own thoughts and birdsong.

Galicia is treating me well so far. Lots of soft dirt trails that remind me more of Vermont than anything I´ve come across so far: big trees, little brooks. But instead of shelters there are chapels and hermitages! The mornings start chilly and thick with fog, which burns off to reveal a hot blazing blue sky that lasts until 10:00 pm or so. The late evenings have me on a strange sleep schedule. Not to mention the fact that I never sleep well in albergues, so every time I stay at one, it throws me for a day or two. One thing I´m looking forward to when I get home is real sleep!

If all goes according to plan, I´ll be in the big city itself the morning of Saturday, August 1st. That´s just three more days of walking! I´ll then be spending a week at the Taize monastery in France, which will hopefully provide some reflecting and recuperating time.

less than 250 km to go!

Thank you, Asturias, for dirt roads and ¨real¨trails! Less asphalt and fewer cars. However, the rain yesterday has turned some areas into LAKES of mud, which leaves me dreaming of some nice dry pavement. The rain did something else interesting too: it made one of my toenails fall off! I guess I could have seen it coming; I got a blister under the nail last week or so, and once the blister subsided there was a funny space between nail and toe... Yesterday´s ceaseless downpour softened it up and soaked it right off. A very odd sensation, no pain, kind of like losing a tooth actually. It hung on by a thread that I had to snip. I´m curious to see whether it will ever grow back. For now it´s slathered in antibiotic and wrapped up in moleskine and waterproof tape.

On to less-disgusting items. I stayed last night at maybe the best albergue I´ve yet encountered, in Bodenaya. Run out of a private household by guys who are ¨amigos del camino.¨ After a long day of wind and rain, arriving to a warm house with wood floors and clothelines and a shower and people offering you a glass of wine--it´s like some sort of dream. And the best part, perhaps: only three other peregrinos, so super-quiet sleeping, practically private quarters. But above all, such a warm, welcoming, friendly place. I´ll have to write a full post on albergues at some point; they´re a source of endless fascination for me. I should note, however, that I´ve only spent roughly one third of my nights in albergues. The rest of the time I am either in my tent, or under the portico of a church or chapel (possibly my favorite way to sleep, especially on muggy nights, when those cold stone floors feel so nice--plus, you can sit and watch the stars come out).

Besides the rural-ness and the incredibly kind and amiable people, the other lovely thing about the Primitivo (as opposed to continuing along the coast) is the influx of new pilgrims. Many start their journey in Oviedo, and at this stage many folks are still fresh and excited, talkative and full of plans, not yet battered and weary. The energy is so different, and I suspect it´s doing me a lot of good. Also, the vast majority of folks I´ve met on the Primitivo are from Spain, so practically all my conversation has been in Spanish. (When there is a more international mix, conversations tend to default into English or fracture according to nationality.) Apparently, an American who can actually speak a foreign language is practically unheard-of here; I´m like some very rare species that no one has ever encountered. I get a lot of surpirsed looks and kudos. So, mil gracias to all my former Spanish teachers; I doubt I´d be here without y'all!

siguiendo la gran flecha de la creatividad...

Today I leave the coast and turn inland, following el Camino Primitivo through Asturias to join el Camino Francés in Palas del Rei. I´ve been juggling for several days whether to continue via el Norte, or take el Primitivo. From everything I´ve been told about el Primitivo, it is possibly the most beautiful route to Santiago. More woods, more mountains, and no more seaside resort towns. So off we go--I said I wasn´t going to plan too strictly, and this is precisely why.

PS: Knee feeling much better the last day or two. I still walk like an abuelita, but at least now it looks worse than it feels! (I sent a package of things (e.g. my broken camera) ahead to the Post Office in Santiago, so I don´t have to carry the things I´m not using. Best 5.00 € I ever spent!

one minute thirty! stormy day, not much to say. My camera is broken, full of sand, so no photos until my return to the states. Sorry!

I'm in Asturias now, way more beautiful than Cantabria, but still not quite as breathtaking as the Basque region. Luego!

Well, I´m siting here icing my mala rodilla (bad knee) with a block of frozen spinach (which I plan on eating later with this little bottle of balsmaic salad dressing they gave me on the airplane.

Did I ever mention how, on my rescheduled flight, they put up front in the business class?! Well, they did. I had a whole giant seat that reclined fully, and they gave us nearly-real food... I actually slept on the plane. An amazing experience.

But back to Spain: I am very close to halfway! Santiago is 400-some km away. I am in a not-very exciting town called Unquera, on my way out of the Cantabria and on to Asturias (which I´ve been told is much more beautiful and less tourist-y than the beach-resort locura of the Cantabrian region).

The weather has held out nicely: only one day of rain in the past week, I think. And in a way, the rain offers a nice reprieve from the sun sun sun.

The pavement walking certainly gets to my knee more than anything else. But don´t worry, I have all the good stuff: a knee brace and arnica gel and yes, some ibuprofen too...

Off we go!

chica loca que camina sola...

Even more than in Vermont, people are shocked to see me walking alone. Taken aback. I get asked where my boyfriend is, where my friends and family are, etc. etc.

How to explain that it just wouldn´t be the same with compañeros? I think and speak almost entirely in Spanish (except with Germans, who always want to talk in English)--and I´m pretty sure this wouldn´t be the case if I were walking with other Americans. As it is, I am not insulated from the world around me. I´m sure this is what folks find so troubling. But it´s exaclty what makes traveling valuable. I´ve fallen in love with Spain--especially the rural areas of the Basque region--in a way I have never fallen in love with another country before. I could see myself LIVING here...

Other thoughts: the bicyclists are more loco than I am. I don´t want to imagine churning up these hills on a fully loaded ride. Damn. It´s like watching an amateur rendition of the tour de france or something (no wonder the Spaniards kick such ass in the tour!).

Also: Spain is coffee not tea, dogs not cats, and wine not beer (well, quite a bit of both, actually, but, you know...). I´ve fallen into a terrible--terribly satisfying--espresso habit, the coffee is just so damn good everywhere, it´s hard to walk without it. So here I am, living my dream of living off of bread, chocolate, and coffee. There are panaderias everywhere, so I´m going through a loaf of bread every day or two, not to mention apples from the fruterias, and some verduras y tomates, and vino (muy barato!), and some sheep-milk cheese, oh! And yesterday I tried pulpo (octopus) for the very first time! The nice older German man I spent all day leap-frogging from Portuagaletes to Castro Urdiales offered me some at lunch, and it´s hard to say no to generosity. It was good. The best part was the paprika-laden olive oil it was cooked in. So here I go, putting aside all my ideals in the name of experience (and a bottomless stomach).

Ando y ando y ando.

I have less than seven minutes before my internet money runs out, so I´ll be quick...
I´m in Gernika for a couple hours, doing errands. I try not to spend longer than a couple hours in any city because they´re stressful and nowhere near as pretty as el campo. I´ve spent all but one night in my tent. Last night I stayed at the Cenaruzza monastery, had my first shower, dried my soggy clothes, etc.

I´ve walked through sheep pastures, past ancient churches, through clouds and eucalyptus groves, across beaches, and on several highways, old and new. Rain, sun, Spanish, English, French, Euskadi... More later. Time´s up!

Besos a todo.