16/06/2024 – Walking the walk 17

Undeterred by yesterday’s rough mountain weather, we again took the high road today. A little damp at first, it stayed largely dry, if brisk. We made crazy-good time over a short stage, arriving before midday in Sarria. Our hotel is almost 2km off the trail, so it was good that we were fresh. Sarria is a medium-sized city and we are in the “working”, everyday part of it. No picturesque stone houses or rose gardens today!

However, our hotel has wifi, a bath and a comfortable mattress. Our last 2 nights lacked all these facilities. We are luxuriating in foamy suds, the promise of a good night’s sleep: not-so-small mercies. The old box spring mattresses were particularly challenging and actually hurt to lie on. Our first thought was to check tonight’s (albeit small) bed, no squeaks! Bodes well.

The “short Camino” starts at Sarria. We passed a marker showing 115km to Santiago entering town. Most pilgrims do only this final stretch, because it “counts” for a certificate at the Cathedral when you present your stamps. This means the last stretch is much more crowded, commercial. It’s also more highly developed than the farmland, mountains of the last month. There is more road walking, town walking and concrete from here on out. Even though we won’t have a certificate (we ditched the “passport” to just enjoy the experience), Carey’s talking about his “Heaven fast-pass” on Thursday’s arrival. From memory, beautiful though Santiago is, he will be somewhat disappointed…

Day 33 – The Camino was super-crowded today.

We broke record pace (22km in 4 hours) haring through school groups (2, each of 25+ children); people with too-long poles, who walked with them at 45 degrees to their direction of travel, hogging the whole path; the woman with the toy poodle in her backpack; the evidently mismatched couple having a major row about 4km in, as she realised there were still 18kms to go…

The trail belongs to everyone, but it lost a lot of its magic for us today. Still, we are grateful for our toughened-up legs, (we now have a surprising turn off speed on the hills), and that we arrived an hour ahead of the “pack” into Portomarin. We were able to get a table at the bar and enjoy half a quiet pint before it filled with wet, overripe pilgrims and the windows fogged up!

At breakfast this morning, the dining room was full of newbies; none of whom need a haircut; all of whom dress in immaculate performance wear, which, clearly, had neither been acquired from the bargain bin, nor sink-washed for a month. The lobby was choked with bags awaiting collection. We estimate a ten-fold increase in pilgrims since yesterday.

We both missed the quiet. There was just so much chatter today: groups of young men roaring, joking; groups of young women talking, talking… It’s, no doubt, an excellent way to prepare for returning to city life, but there’s sadness in it