Talk about snore! A consistent drone throughout the night. The joys of albergue living I guess. I have decided that there needs to be some form of monitoring system when you register to stay in an albergue that can identify the snores which either prohibits entry, or what is kinder, to bunk them all in the same room so they can all snore in harmony together leaving the rest of us to sleep in peace. You should have to have your credential stamped as certified either snorer or non-snorer by your roomies on the first night. Hence you are branded for the rest of the Camino. Whilst it seems like a brilliant idea, I risk being branded in another way. Last night at some time in the early hours of the morning, I woke up with my nose having decided that the day’s severe hayfever was not over and started to produce copious amounts of snot. Val in the bunk below me couldn’t decide what was worse – the snorer or the snotter. The night of ‘sleep’ ended when the French lived up to their reputation and rose early waking every one in the process. Up we got heavy from a poor nights sleep and headed out the earliest we have ever left – 6.40am as it was going to be a long day.
Off we headed into the great unknown. Yes, unknown as this is what we saw:
And once the fog lifted the way was not necessarily any clearer.
For the first time on our walk it was actually quite heavy cloud cover. I discovered an unexpected bonus from the overcast skies. Val’s solar powered hat has a reduced capacity to boost her hill climbing performance. For the first time, I actually beat her up two climbs today. Perhaps I am being unfair as she hadn’t had a morning coffee and her ‘lumbago’ was bothering her. Later in the day the sun came out. Things changed as she got faster. However, I was either beside her or just behind hot on her tail. She turned at one point to see how far back I was and was surprised – there I was. Now this is a big deal to me as she truly is powered by turbo batteries and always leaves me behind. My massive calves are finally starting to do their job.
Once again it was same old, same old with what we walked through. Wooded valleys (sometimes I thought we were in hobbit county), higher areas, rose clad buildings in quaint villages and the most gorgeous poppies I have ever seen.
At one point, we were greeted by sheep who had been housed in their barn for the evening, bleating in desperation to be let out for the day.
Down into a steep valley and along a river bank. The only way over was over a roman bridge. Val assured me that everyone had their photos taken on this bridge. At this stage I was a bit tired and thought people who hadn’t done the walk would only know that this bridge was roman, if they were told this. Agree? I’m sure if you could be bothered scrambling down the banks you would see the typical roman architecture and would be in no doubt. For this tired peregrina it was not an option to go scrambling for a photo.
As I have said, I started to get tired about 9km from Silleda. It all starts to look a bit like this when you get tired.
But tired or not, no time to ponder it as you have no choice but to keep going. You dig deep and find the energy from somewhere. The biggest problem I was having though was not tiredness but a rather painful chaffing in delicate areas that should not be mentioned. Sweat can do nasty things to delicate parts sometimes. And once it starts nothing can be done about it. Pulling your pants down on the track and applying Pawpaw ointment just has to be done.
So tired and sore, we arrived in Silleda 7 hours after we left. We only stopped for about 30 minutes. I should add here that the last two kilometres went for at least five. My feet hurt, my legs were tired and my chaffing STUNG. Ah the joys of walking the Camino. My advice for anyone doing this walk, prepare for the unpleasant possibility of chaffing by having pawpaw ointment on hand. And if you are prone to hayfever, take antihistamines. At the very least, your roomies might appreciate it.