Friday, March 28, 2014

Days 22 & 23

Day 22: Villafranca de Montes de Oca to San Juan de Ortega – 12.4 km (up and down a mountain in the snow)
Day 23: San Juan de Ortega to Castanares – 18.7 km

I love walking in the snow! It is a wonderful time for reflection and contemplation.


Yesterday I was remembering the first time Randy duct taped my pants to my shoes to keep the snow out. Three weeks ago in the Pyrenees. At the time I thought I must be crazy to take this adventure, with strangers, into so many unknowns. But now I am joyous. Knowing I would have been crazy not to come. No longer encountering strangers. Only friends to share the world with. And the Camino.

The way up the mountain to San Juan was slippery and slow. Several inches of snow had fallen overnight and continued to fall throughout the day. But I warmed up quickly. Having to shed an Under Armour layer within the first kilometer.


Usually down the mountain is slow and arduous, difficult on the knees. But with 6 inches of fresh powder to cushion the blow, we raced to the bottom.

The path was beautiful, through pine forests heavy with accumulating snow. But there was nothing between Villafranca and San Juan. Not a town or a café. Not a bread truck or a water fountain. Unusual for our daily journeys. But motivation to keep moving without our typical stops along the way. 

By the time we reached San Juan de Ortega I was ready for dry clothes. The church bells chimed as if inviting us into this tiny town with a population of a mere 30 people. We had heard rumors that the albergue did not have hot water, but decided to take our chances. We could survive a night without a shower, after all.

So we paid 5 euros a piece and stuffed our boots with newspapers to absorb any dampness that was working its way through our waterproofing.  

There ended up being 7 of us, all on lower bunks, in one room. Romy from New Zealand who we met in our early days and continue to bump into regularly. As well as four 20-somethings, who also met on their first day in St. Jean, France, and have been walking together ever since. They were from Australia, Germany, and Scotland.

The albergue did not only not have hot water, but didn’t have heat at all. (Actually there was a little heat coming out of the radiators when we first arrived, teasing us into thinking we would be able to dry our socks overnight, but it was turned off and cold before we went to bed.) And the “feels like” temperature that night was in the lower teens. Walking outside through the courtyard from the unheated bunk room to the unheated bathroom was a challenge for us all. Romy even saying she had never stayed anywhere so cold in all her 70+ years.

To top it off, the man running the albergue was not a cheery host. We’ve encountered several rough around the edges men in Spain, but always end up breaking through the façade. After an hour with us they are feeding us and blowing us kisses like long lost family. But not this guy. He wouldn’t even give us an extra log for the fire.

We practically ran to the next town in the morning, 3.6 kilometers away, in hopes of a cup of hot coffee.

Entering the town of Ages, we immediately came to an albergue/café. It was locked but we rang the doorbell. And were invited in by AnnaMaria. She fried us eggs and bacon, gave us a plate full of rock hard toast (which the roof of my mouth is finally adjusting to), and filled our cups with hot coffee.

She didn’t speak any English, but by our countenance could tell that we had stayed in San Juan. She hugged me and told me to stay as long as I wanted, to keep warm and digest breakfast before having to go back out in the cold.

She told me I could go upstairs and look at her albergue if I promised not to cry. I took my chances and discovered a second floor of comfortable beds with sheets and blankets, bathrooms with hot showers, and a third floor bungalow style attic of mattresses on a beautiful wood floor. The fact that we were freezing less than 4 kilometers away last night did make me want to cry, but also made me grateful to know that comfort and distress are not so far apart.

I promised her that “next time” I walk the Camino I will stay with her. And tell my friends to do so as well. We got hugs and kisses and our cheeks patted before we left, reorienting us to be able to enjoy our day’s walk.


Even though the food was delicious and the coffee hot, it was her cheery disposition that truly made my day. Never underestimate the power of a smile, a hug, or any other act of kindness!

    

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