After thoughts, June 1 2016

First, just little observations.

The Portuguese Camino is so different from the Camino de France, first, of course, is the fewer pilgrims that walk it.

There are virtually no open small chapels. One is extremely aware that Spain is one of the ten most nonreligious countries. The religious statues and frescoes (none of which have been removed) depict Christ. I did not see one of Virgin Mary.
Stamps for the camino passport are available in every accomodation and cafe. Yet there is none in the Santiago cathedral , the end point of the way.
The first mention of Torte de Santiago (Mum's birthday cake) was a sample from a bakery here in Santiago. I have yet to see it on a menu.

Tuesday May 31 Santiago

Tuesday May 31 Santiago.
Rain gear on the outside of the backpack, just in case. Overcast, no rain. Most of the way was spent zigzagging, over and around the maze of roads into Santiago. I had been surprised by how small Padron is. Now I was surprised that there were still hamlets and woods. On occasion I saw a backpack ahead; all moving at a slower pace. If I stopped at a cafe a few would catch up to me.

The first shadow in days

I sat down on a wall across the street from this woman who was snipping 1/8 inch branches on a hedge. Her garden was so perfectly maintained that this was the only possible activity. As I sat there a woman from the hamlet walked by. She smiled, greeted me warmly, then said, "You are lucky that the owner's of the house have not seen you. They are extremely haughty  and would try to shoo you off." I smiled back, took another bite of the banana.  She nodded in approval and walked on to critique the garden across the road.

My next encounter was with Robert from Prague. He had just walked from Pamplona to go but still had more walking to do in order to learn how to break the cycle of working long hours. He was going on to Lisbon and wanted to know about the poorly marked route along the coast.

The farmers along the way make scarecrows that make one giggle.

Ìt was 12:00 and I had at most an hour and a half s walk into Santiago. I didn’t want to get there for a noontime meal so I stopped at a restaurant in a supermercado and ordered a pizza. It was fun to see all the other clients, so unpilgrim like, tethered to their cell phones.

When I arrived in Santiago the cafes were overflowing. The cathedral square with its elegant Posadas a welcome and familiar site.

Finding my hotel was the usual, amusing, circular adventure. Two nights in a room. Ĺuxury. A chance to do some laundry.
Ñice pintxos and Rioja wine for dinner; sitting on a bar stool, chatting with a woman who had just walked from Malaga and a man who had walked from Grenada.
Now it's time to repack. Baçkpack full of Swarthmore reunion clothes. Freshly laundered  (do you call sink washing that?) clothes in the baggage compartment duffle.
Wednesday morning. Done. Off for a 3 hour lunch in the SUN.
Another reinvention of self.

Monday May 30 Palais de Reis to Padron

Monday May 30 Palais de Reis to Padron
It's 5:00 and I think the sky is looking less threatening. To no avail, I hàd hoped for a day without ŕain gear. A heavy downpour at 9:00, another at 11:00 and sprinkles in the afternoon.

Most of the grapes here are in arbors; this was the only vineyard where they are grown as in Napa.

I imagined that I was walking with Markus, a puzzled look as he went ahead. Then a gleeful shout, "Hanna i found it. Come this way." as he spotted the marker around a corner, just out of sight.
The way parallels major roadways into Santiago, but for the most part it weaves from vineyard to vineyard, and wooded path to wooded path.

.

Pilgrims here do not leave their mark. The cruciferous are devoid of flowers am mementos.  This the only evidence of our passage.

I am a little depressed. Is it because there is only one more day to walk into Santiago? Is it that the promised nice weather has not materialized? Or is it because they have put me into a hotal 3/4 of a mile out of town without even a cafe in the neighborhood?

The cathedral is devoted to St. James. The large stone behind the altar has historically been thought to be the one to which his boat was moored when he came ashore to teach the gospel. Recently this has been questionned, but every account has itseen as a religious object since Roman times.

A walk back into town for a sit down in a cafe and now back to write this and wait for Gene to Skype.

Sunday May 29 Pontevedra to Palais de Reis

Sunday May 29 Pontevedra to Palais de Reis
The front has passed,  but that doesn't mean that it has stopped raining.

The walk today was primarily spent looking at the ever threatening sky, basking in the brief moments of sun and skirting puddles.

I stayed true to my plan to follow every arrow and camino shell direction.

At one point feeling I must be in a Jurassic park.

At other times, taking a moment to smell the flowers.

(Grr back to asking it to publish and instead reverting to a previous draft.)

Passing greenhouses, both large and small

Then eating a delicious, freshly made just for me, tortilla patata together with a 2015 vinho (?) tinto.

Others ate chorizo inferno.  I hope to find it on the lunch menu tomorrow.

Arriving in Palais de Reis in time to see the Corpus Christi celebration.

Saturday May 28 Redondela to Pontevedra

Saturday May 28 Redondela to Pontevedra
I ate breakfast with the cyclists.

And went on my way with an admonishment: when you pass me I want a smile!
I passed 4 pilgrims. No hordes. Even though I am following every arrow from here on into Santiago.

2 passed me as I climbed and descended on these smooth, slippery rocks.

Kindly offering to take my photo

Just as the cloud burst open, like an awning breaking under the load. I heard in chorus, "Buon Camino."

It was the cycling group. The last swung back, asking me to confirm that each one had smiled.

(Can't get this out of center text mode. The selection arrow doesn't respond to my touch.)

I had forgotten how sweet smelling a candle is. In Portugal none are permitted inside a building.

The pulpo Galicia is mouthwatering good.
And Pontevedra is a beautiful city.