To Pontevedre

I am looking back on the last few days and it’s all kind of a blur. Maybe because it’s been so tiring.

Today was another tough day. That’s what I recall vaguely, but now sitting at a table in our adorable little apartment in Pontevedre – after a nice nap – I seem to only be recalling the good stuff. We started our walk in the cool of the morning, which is going to be how we start each new day from now on.  

It IS fun! “Buen Camino!” greetings are shared by residents and all nationalities of pilgrims alike.  

Beautiful countrysides, quaint stone homes, the much-welcomed yellow arrows guiding our way and the steady sound of shoes hitting the dirt and roads was peaceful and rhythmic.  

As we steadily made our way up a fairly steep hill, Bethany and I both had our heads down, focusing only on the next step. We passed a nice-looking young man (hellooooo, senor!) who called out to us and said, “Camino?”, and pointed down another road. We would have climbed to the top of the hill in vain if not for him! Our “Spanish angel” I guess. I think it is the only arrow we have missed, so far. 

The first part of the walk I felt refreshed and strong. I had left 5-6 pounds of gear back at our last apartment, and my pack felt much better. It was a cool morning. The hills felt doable .

After a couple of hours, I started to wear down a bit. The song “what kind of fool do you think I am?” looped around in my head. I thought about how seriously lazy I’ve been since retiring- how when Dale asks me to go for a walk, I say, “Absolutely! Right after I finish this tub of ice cream!” And if I put him off long enough, he will get restless and find some work to do, and then I can sneak in to the guest room and take a nap. 

Guess I need to change my ways.

Everything I read about walking the Camino, the common answer to concerns about doing it was “the Camino will provide.” Oh boy.  I’m just hoping it is true that you get stronger with each passing day.