18/06/2024 – Walking the walk 18

Day 34 – determined to get ahead of the school groups, we breakfasted at 7am and stepped onto the Camino at 7:40 - right into the middle of a group of pink-neon-shirted teens, streaming past the front door! It took 3 kms to get beyond them, but we finally slotted into a gap between crowds, taking several of the alternative stretches helped. Nevertheless, we continued at a fast clip, averaging 11 mins/km on a 26km day.

The day was cloudy, wet, brooding, but we were mostly dry, and always cool, if not chilly. We are at the stage of accessing “automatic mode”. Our legs just keep moving, regardless. In fact, we already started thinking about next year’s pilgrimage… It is a glorious experience – practical, physical, simple, freeing. We both feel we should find another opportunity, while/if we can.

We marched into Palais de Rei at 12:30, but our lovely host was ready for us. We are staying in a private home, with a few, charming, converted rooms. At her recommendation, we lunched locally, instead of our usual evening dining. The afternoon was damp, wet even, and we are both comfortable tucking in for a pleasant evening in our cosy room.

Day 35 – We got wet today. So wet, it no longer made any sense to stop: we’d only chill down, not get dry enough for comfort. There is a kind of silly freedom in this. We joked loudly about, and extemporised on, the supreme wetness, even as the water sloshed around in our socks. Twice. There is the stage of drying out where you shed the excess moisture by physically moving and leaving it behind, working hard to stay warm. After that, comes the damp equilibrium, where there is no further drying off without stripping down or sunshine (or both). Your clothes have all reached body temperature and there is just no more evaporation to be achieved – except your socks, which squelch. Finally, comes “I can no longer feel my feet.” And, over time, a return to “close enough not-wet”. It would be unreasonable to say “dry”. Just in time, for the next storm to crest the hill ahead…

Carey even gave me permission to use the phrase “pelting rain”, which you will know indicates just how stormy things were. Usually, anything short of Noah’s inundation, or hail, and I’m arguing about whether we have left “Fog” and arrived at “Mist” yet! Not so today.

Our shared sense of the absurd helps us through. There is much amusement to be had in bullet-like rain, if you don’t let it get you down. One of those absurdities is just how wonderful it is to arrive, and then get thoroughly wet all over again in a hot shower!

We passed below 40km today, but, inevitably, it was the way marker with “66.6” that Carey wanted a photo of. This gives me the chance to share one of my favourite puns: What is 667? The neighbour of the beast.