Last night was another tough one. I stayed in an ancient albergue with creaky old floors and toilets that whooshed like a passing train. The mattresses on the bunk beds were covered in plastic. This deters bed bugs but means that any movement sounds like the occupant of the bed is rolling around in cellophane. Hey, that could be the next Miley Cyrus video.
If someone would like to make a million dollars might I suggest inventing earplugs that work? I’ve tried three different kinds now, including the waxed variety which are supposedly the best, with no success.
I ate a quick breakfast and got to walking. Same story, different day. The morning dawned pink and clear. The air was cold. Airplanes cut streaks of white into the sky and I wondered if Brian might be on one of them, inadvertently looking down on me.
The terrain became rocky and tree-lined and the path began to climb uphill. The vistas below were beautiful.
I am reading a book called What the Psychic Told the Pilgrim about one woman’s experience walking the Camino. It’s a funny read but the author annoys me. She complains too much and she keeps catching the bus which I think is cheating if your own two feet are capable of walking (hers are).
Anyway, in the book she begins her walk with a group of women but quickly ditches them and then spends the rest of the time desperately searching for other people to walk with. She hates her own company.
I feel just the opposite. I love walking alone out here with my thoughts. I love sitting down in the plaza, alone, at the end of the day with a book and a glass of white wine. I love walking into an ancient cathedral and sitting down in a polished pew and looking up at the opulent golden crevices and carvings. I love that, when I have something to say, I am the only one to say it to. Normally I don’t say anything anyway, I just write it down.
These past few days I’ve been thinking about the future a lot. About what comes after all of this traveling. Just six months ago, while walking through Nepal, my mind was reeling over the same topic. Then, I felt very unsettled. I didn’t know what I wanted and the uncertainty stressed me out. Now, things are becoming clear. I remember knowing intuitively in Nepal that the summer at home in the states would reveal a lot, and it did.
As I walk I think about the future and I get excited about it.
I arrived at my destination around 2 p.m. this afternoon. Foncebadon, my home for the night, is perched high atop a mountain and is a booming metropolis of twelve. There are definitely more flies than people here. I know because there are at least fifteen of them (flies, not people) swarming around my head as I type this.
Today I walked 16.1 miles (25.9 km).