I go down to breakfast at the little cafeteria and they’re screening the news showing the Bull Run that happened in Pamplona recently. The bulls just look scared, not angry or crazed. A ham and cheesy breakfast later, packs are on and we’re out the door.
We entered the forest quickly after leaving the town, and it was more enchanted than ever. Dense green envelops us, creepers climb the trees and ferns the floor. There’s a river alongside us from time to time and it’s truly blissful. There were forests for a long time in the first half of our walk today. The hours dragged on in wonder, yet somehow flew by.
There’s a rumbling in the forest, I think it’s a train. It turns out to be even better; a John Deer with mower arm cutting grass on the side of the road. We (I) oogle for a bit at it. Later we realise that it’s killed all the incredible flowers that line the road, less enamored by it now.
Camino pack dog. The child with dog loses a tooth at the cafe.
We stop for a coffee break in a small collection of houses in a break in the forest. It’s a very eventful time:
- We see fast Aussie man walk by, this time very slowly
- Camino dog rolls in (pictured below). Camino dog carries all it’s own supplies (collaposable bowl is out of view in the picture). Camino dog doesn’t need a leash. Camino dog is relaxed and having the best time.
- Camino girl (who belongs to Camino dog (with the pink headscarf in the background)) lost a tooth halfway through breakfast. Camino dog was thrilled.
We passed a great group of Scottish women, many times. We walked fast, they walked consistently, we took look breaks, they didn’t really, we all had a lot of fun together. The accent is incredible. The last time we saw them they were drinking a glass of wine a few kilometers from our destination, blowing kisses at us.
When we left the forest it was wine country. We passed through beautiful vineyards stretching out across the land. The ground cover was all natural, full of flowers - it wasn’t baron and dry. Most of the vines are erected with large stone pillars, a huge mission to cut but I imagine will last forever - future thinking.
Our pace was ridiculous. We were marching along, giggling and generally being rather chaotic. It was a silly day. We also found ourselves sitting down on the side of the road quite a lot just staring at things. Giving the Scottish women time to catch up with us again. In one particularly pretty shady spot I said out loud that I could feel our Scottish friends coming, and a moment later, there they were.
Lunch was lovely. A help yourself buffet of lovely things: we got a chicken pie of sorts and a Santiago Cake (amazing). We saw the Scottish women there again. Also Camino dog and Camino girl. Sadly not thirsty Aussie man.
As we started nearing our destination of Caldas de Reis we fell in behind a group of Spanish women. They were not any group to be overtaken, mostly due to how hilarious they were and that their erratic movements might cause harm on the narrow paths. They all had backpacks with all the Camino trinkets and patches sewn on, along with wooden staffs with flags. Yet their most notable feature was how much chaotic energy they had. Singing, dancing, music from a phone. Stopping and breaking down in laughter. It was so entertaining walking behind them for a while.
We bump into another noteworthy Spanish woman. She’s collecting flora, Cait remarks “woman after my own heart”, and placing them as offerings along the Camino markers. She greets us enthusiastically. We bump into her later, truly exstatic, watching the geese. A person of wonder joy and love for the world. She caresses us lovingly talking in Spanish and guides us to look at the ducks. Her partner is quiet and still, but smiling. Her bag is open on her back, a flip file and some clothes almost falling out, he closes it up for her. She floats off on a carriage of exhuberance and emotion and he follows along at her side. She keeps him wild, he keeps her safe.
We make it to Caldas de Reis - the most charming town ever. A beautiful serpentine river protecting it. An enormous stone church towers overhead. Small streets weave around. The energy is quite electric, a metric on how close the Pilgrims are getting to their destination.
Cait and I have this unspoken routine of arriving out our night’s accommodation:
- Get the key
- Open up
- Drop our bags (not on the bed, fear of bed bugs which are a real threat out here)
- Lock the door
- Take our sweaty clothes off
- Get onto said bed
- Not say much for about 10 minutes
- Shower
Today’s 9th point was to raw dog 6 boiled eggs that we had carried with us. Cait’s facial expression in this photo is due to the inferior peelability of said eggs.
Getting into the apartment was a mission - but a boring story. The town has some old sulphur hot springs. There are public foot paths, which you aren’t allowed to wash your feet in - the locals will tell you off. As we’re looking at one, cait removes her sandal to stretch her foot and gets a talking to by an old Spanish woman. There’s no clarifying the intention, just apologies haha.
A hotel has commodified one of the springs, and there are public pools - heated by the springs. We pay our entrance and wallow around in the medium temperature one for a while. When the man with scary Mona Lisa eyes (always watching) gives up his place at the inlet we make our way over and find a very hot jet of water shooting from a fish statue into the pool. It’s hot and kind of smells like egg - good thing we smell like egg too.
There’s a smaller, hotter pool too. We pop up there and lounge out - it’s hot bath temperature. We’re chatting about this and that when a Spanish couple launch into the pool and start aggressively making out, him between her legs, hands all over. They seem to have no awareness of other people and start sliding towards us - we’re out of there.
We make our way back to our deck chairs but I can’t stop watching them, it’s like a car crash. Cait and I talk about how South Africa has quite a conservative take on public displays of affection, then we question if this situation is actually a little extreme when we see that everyone else has left the small pool too.
The raunchy couple launch into the larger cooler pool and are making out in the corner for a while. Many other guests seem to be surreptitiously watching. Everything gets a whole lot more interesting when the person on duty at the pool comes over to them and yells some stuff in Spanish. Oh how I wish I could speak Spanish to have understood the argument that ensued. Lots of finger wagging.
The raunchy man gets out the pool - his parter calls to him and he gestures that he’s cold. He’s not cold. Puts on a dressing gown and goes over to the official, another argument. This time to head out of the pool area - some people get up to watch. I can see through the fence, but no fisty cuffs. The official comes back to the pool and everything is kind of over. Hilarious though.
After that whole debacle we’re hungry. I’m craving a burger and there’s a place called “Le Burger”. It lives up to its name. We have a beautifully cute dinner. Both tired, both happy. A lot of interesting people today.
These European cities are all just so… old. Cars seem to be the only indication of what decade or millennia we are in.
I have been moving through books quickly. And started reading “The English Patient” a few evenings ago (thank you mom and David for the recommendation). It’s been so good that I’ve been going to bed way later than I would like. So tonight I’ve banned myself from reading to try get 8 hours.