All roads lead to Santiago.
I dont know what happened to me today. It's like someone turned on my power switch, jet engines on. Could have been the 3 coffees. Maybe it was all the beef yesterday. Maybe my body has finally stopped breaking. I felt strong. Stronger than I have felt since I started. I'm not feeling broken anymore. I'm in my head now. I am focused and on a mission.
I met Harold at 0730 for coffee and tortilla while sleeping beauty slept in 🤣
Jorge is not a morning person so he sleeps in and catches us by late morning.
Harold and I both like to get up and get going.
The first thing we came to after watching the sun rise behind the clouds was what I called the 'baths' for lack of knowing its real name.
A rocky cove with gorgeous blue water surrounded by steps cut into the rocks. I wished I had seen this place in bright sunshine, I would have soaked my sore feet for sure. We are grateful for the cloud cover. It is such a welcome relief from the hot sun. This heat is not normal for this northern part of Spain in the mountains, we were all expecting cooler temperatures in September.
We walked out of the city with little confusion and headed for the rural hills behind town. Eventually we ended up in a spooky but very cool forest where we thought of Inigo Montoya and started quoting 'The Princess Bride'
It was short lived but took us right to the coast. Being very high above the shoreline awarded us with fantastic views of the rugged coast. The clouds were moody and the land around us bright green. Farm fields as far as the eye could see and small mountains framing where we stood. I could hear cow bells in the distance and the occasional squawk of the sea birds. Still only Harold and I and not another pilgrim in sight.
We finally made it to a very small town called Islares where we had not one but two fabulous coffees and I had a snackbar. This would end up being the last thing I ate until about 9pm and nobody got hurt!! 🤣
Jorge met us there at his usual time of appearance (mid morning) but this time had a new friend with him. Crisbel is from Valencia and speaks very little to no English. She is a happy and friendly 20-something walking from Bilbao to Santander and is making use of this lovely walk to remove herself and disconnect. How fortunate she is to have this walk in her own country.
The 4 of us walked together the remainder of the day. We cut out an extra 10 kms today by doing a little highway walking and thankfully we did. It gave us what we needed to finish the last
7 kms in the full sun. After leaving Islares, we met a biker named Chris from Miami. A young guy who has been on the road and tent sleeping for months truly living the dream... he befriended Jorge (as most people do) and they chatted along the highway. Crisbel chatted with Harold behind them and that's when something kicked in for me. My power surge. I put the machine in high gear and just motored up the hills until the long stretch of highway was done. It felt amazing. No music. No sound other than the odd car speeding past. My thoughts were clear and I was focused on just the sound of my feet, one after the other. My many necklaces, blessed by the monk, jingling in a steady rhythm with my movement. It was truly an empowering moment. Finding your strength and pushing yourself farther and faster than you thought you could go. That feeling doesn't go away.... even when your feet stop moving.
We made it to Liendo and had cold drinks and I indulged with a white wine and Jorge a beer while we waited only a few minutes for Harold and Crisbel to arrive. Chris had long since moved on. It was a nice rest but we all know too well that resting for too long just makes it harder to find that rhythm again..
All roads lead to Santiago. Not true if you follow me. Sometimes they lead you up a steep dirt path to nowhere.
We left Liendo feeling saucy, singing Volare and trying to get back to the route. We found a path to the right knowing we had to get back to the seaside and climb up and over the last mountain. We really don't like backtracking so I asked Jorge to ask an older Spanish local tending to their garden. In typical male form he didn't want to ask directions. So fueled by grape juice and gumption, I used my broken Spanish/Portuguese and my boldness and I asked directions. At first the old man looked at me like I had 3 heads and then Rico Suave Jorge jumped in with his proper sexy Spanish and saved the day. We were on the right path.... but not for long. He said 'turn right' for the beach and 'turn left' for Laredo. So when we came to a crossroads naturally I went left. We weren't sure if it was the right way so I said, "you don't have to follow me but I'm going up". We climbed in the heat but it became apparent the trail was becoming less of a trail and more of a dead-end. Sorry guys. Never follow the person who has wine for lunch 🤣
We redirected ourselves, just a little bit further to the actual trail and in that heat, we did what we had to do... again... we climbed up. The views were spectacular and this is what we saved out energy for.
The last 7kms were on a stunning cliff-side single width path through desert brush and many thorns and endless views in every direction.
When we reached the road and the final stretch, it sloped downward and as it would be, I passed my friends for the last time before reaching town. I picked up momentum again and stumbled right into the church.
Free to pilgrims but I donated anyway. These Cathedrals are beautiful and filled with art. I love all of them and the energy inside them. Sometimes dark and moody and sometimes full of light, love and healing. It's the same energy that's inside us all. Sometimes we are the darkness. Sometimes we are the light.
I found my hotel but the hallway and room are straight out of 'The Shining'. Similar to a place I stayed in 2018 on the Camino Frances. Again, I am expecting the twins at the end of the hall. By far my least favourite place. My solution, no rest for the wicked, I grabbed my laundry and found a place across the street for a café con leche.
I reconnected with my Amigos after our unintentional separation. Crisbel went to her Albergue run by Nuns. The guys to their usual Princess Palace and me well you read about my haunted house.
Jorge and Crisbel did their laundry as well, while I strolled up to the beach to watch the storm roll in. The sky was becoming increasingly dark and the rain was definitely coming.
We found a restaurant finally. There are plenty but not many that will cater to my needs. Harold was born again and joined us for dinner. Jorge has been so kind to not only translate menus for me and but also now has become translator so that Crisbel and myself can be included in the conversations. We behaved with just a couple of drinks, some nachos and burgers and called it a night, sharing pictures of our day and then a taxi to our homes as the rain came down.
A much deserved sleep tonight to be had by all.
Sent from my Galaxy
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