The albergue in Arzúa was fine except for once again lacking any form of kitchen equipment beyond the stove. We went into town both to buy supplies and to borrow a saucepan. Third time lucky - after being told by the lady in the bar opposite the albergue that yes, she received such requests all the time, and that yes she did have some saucepans but that no, she was not at all inclined to lend us one. Charming! There's the future of the camino for you right there. Forget any historical or spiritual (or other) reason except for a commercial one.
Anyway, we gathered together whatever utensils and additional pans we had and still managed to eat well. A certain sense of achievement indeed.
This albergue is on the camino Frances and I was in for a bit of a surprise. Whereas previously we would always respect whoever might be still sleeping in the mornings and thus move quietly about with various lamps or torches, the lights went on at 07:00 sharp! Oh well, might as well get up and pack, despite it being an hour and a half before daybreak.
I ended up sitting in a cafe with Carmen, exchanging contact details while waiting for daylight. We saw numerous pilgrims heading out, still caught in this feverish desire to arrive early at the next albergue despite there being greatly reduced numbers now. I knew that at my own rate of progress I would end up passing them all during the day, and I did.
I was two days from Santiago and I decided that rather than split them into two easier days of around 20km each (and a lot of free time to kill) I would get close to Santiago today and leave myself a short stage tomorrow, allowing me to arrive early before (hopefully) the madness began.
The day was overcast and cloudy. I passed the first couple of hours looking at the sky, hoping it wouldn't rain. I finally had to concede the possibility as it turned very dark and I stopped in an underpass to don waterproofs. Shortly afterwards it began to rain gently but steadily.
I was making my usual good progress and I confess that it all felt very relaxed. There was no need to rush. I had been passing pilgrims all morning - it was certainly much busier on this part of the camino but certainly not the hundreds and hundreds per day that one finds in high season. Much repetition of "buen camino" and lots of smiles. It really does help, especially when the weather looks a bit miserable.
The camino was gentle with lots of forest and unpaved sections, which always make a pleasant change from the hundreds of kilometres of asphalt I've been walking on these past few weeks.
A short while later, just as the rain got heavier, the skies opened and an absolute deluge began. A side wind whipped up and it seemed that this somewhat exceptional weather had found the limits of my waterpoofing. Water began to seep into my boots and into the zipped seams of my overtrousers. Nothing drastic but water all the same. The 30 euro poncho appeared to be doing its job :0)
I continued walking as the rain got heavier and couldn't help noticing the bars crowded with waiting pilgrims. Oh well - I was out in it now, no point in stopping.
The rain eased off after about 30 minutes, only to return again later - shortly before I arrived at my chosen destination of Monte de Gozo (Mount of Joy).
This is an albergue with 400 beds, just 6km short of Santiago. I was curious to see just what such a large albergue looked like. I was surprised (pleasantly as it turned out) to discover that they achieved this through three large, purpose built shelters each with its own showers and kitchens. I was glad I'd made the 33km today and a chance to relax now. The one thing the place lacked was clothes washing facilities. I wasn't about to pay to use machines.
By late afternoon there were something like 70 pilgrims in the place - certainly enough to ensure that the kitchen was the busiest place in the building. I spent time there drinking tea and chatting with the various bodies. In my room was an English guy (ex Navy) and I met an English girl in the kitchen. Apart from a fairly brief chat with an English woman in the albergue in Bilbao these were the first English pilgrims I have met in almost eight weeks! One always hears about them but somehow I seemed to have not yet met any. The kitchen inhabitants included an Argentinian (looking like the young Rasputin), two Slovaks, a Latvian, several Spaniards, two Germans, some French people and yours truly. A lively mix and I realised at this moment that by trying to close down the kitchens in other albergues, they are essentially shutting down the heart of the albergue. The kitchen is the preferred place to chat, to share food and information and to generally swap tales of the camino. I spent my entire evening in the kitchen, eventually retiring to bed around 22:30. The hospitalero kindly exercised considerable flexibility in allowing us to all carry on enjoying ourselves and making the most of this very well equipped albergue.
Anyway, we gathered together whatever utensils and additional pans we had and still managed to eat well. A certain sense of achievement indeed.
This albergue is on the camino Frances and I was in for a bit of a surprise. Whereas previously we would always respect whoever might be still sleeping in the mornings and thus move quietly about with various lamps or torches, the lights went on at 07:00 sharp! Oh well, might as well get up and pack, despite it being an hour and a half before daybreak.
I ended up sitting in a cafe with Carmen, exchanging contact details while waiting for daylight. We saw numerous pilgrims heading out, still caught in this feverish desire to arrive early at the next albergue despite there being greatly reduced numbers now. I knew that at my own rate of progress I would end up passing them all during the day, and I did.
I was two days from Santiago and I decided that rather than split them into two easier days of around 20km each (and a lot of free time to kill) I would get close to Santiago today and leave myself a short stage tomorrow, allowing me to arrive early before (hopefully) the madness began.
The day was overcast and cloudy. I passed the first couple of hours looking at the sky, hoping it wouldn't rain. I finally had to concede the possibility as it turned very dark and I stopped in an underpass to don waterproofs. Shortly afterwards it began to rain gently but steadily.
I was making my usual good progress and I confess that it all felt very relaxed. There was no need to rush. I had been passing pilgrims all morning - it was certainly much busier on this part of the camino but certainly not the hundreds and hundreds per day that one finds in high season. Much repetition of "buen camino" and lots of smiles. It really does help, especially when the weather looks a bit miserable.
The camino was gentle with lots of forest and unpaved sections, which always make a pleasant change from the hundreds of kilometres of asphalt I've been walking on these past few weeks.
A short while later, just as the rain got heavier, the skies opened and an absolute deluge began. A side wind whipped up and it seemed that this somewhat exceptional weather had found the limits of my waterpoofing. Water began to seep into my boots and into the zipped seams of my overtrousers. Nothing drastic but water all the same. The 30 euro poncho appeared to be doing its job :0)
I continued walking as the rain got heavier and couldn't help noticing the bars crowded with waiting pilgrims. Oh well - I was out in it now, no point in stopping.
The rain eased off after about 30 minutes, only to return again later - shortly before I arrived at my chosen destination of Monte de Gozo (Mount of Joy).
This is an albergue with 400 beds, just 6km short of Santiago. I was curious to see just what such a large albergue looked like. I was surprised (pleasantly as it turned out) to discover that they achieved this through three large, purpose built shelters each with its own showers and kitchens. I was glad I'd made the 33km today and a chance to relax now. The one thing the place lacked was clothes washing facilities. I wasn't about to pay to use machines.
By late afternoon there were something like 70 pilgrims in the place - certainly enough to ensure that the kitchen was the busiest place in the building. I spent time there drinking tea and chatting with the various bodies. In my room was an English guy (ex Navy) and I met an English girl in the kitchen. Apart from a fairly brief chat with an English woman in the albergue in Bilbao these were the first English pilgrims I have met in almost eight weeks! One always hears about them but somehow I seemed to have not yet met any. The kitchen inhabitants included an Argentinian (looking like the young Rasputin), two Slovaks, a Latvian, several Spaniards, two Germans, some French people and yours truly. A lively mix and I realised at this moment that by trying to close down the kitchens in other albergues, they are essentially shutting down the heart of the albergue. The kitchen is the preferred place to chat, to share food and information and to generally swap tales of the camino. I spent my entire evening in the kitchen, eventually retiring to bed around 22:30. The hospitalero kindly exercised considerable flexibility in allowing us to all carry on enjoying ourselves and making the most of this very well equipped albergue.
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