Thursday, 5th October.
My backpack stinks.
above (l-r): Dave's arse, Noelle's arse, Barb's arse
(the girls have matching backpacks, isn't that cute?)
Grizzled, hardened veterans of the Camino that we are, (well,
I'm the only one of us going grey, but we are TOUGH) it saddened
us to see more and more phoney pilgrims this morning. There we are,
bounding along with our washing draped from our backs (Dave is
determined to invent an efficient method of drying clothes on the
back of a backpack), hundreds of kilometres under our belts,
bulging packs strapped to our shoulders, and we encounter these
day-tripper pilgrims. Some have their gear bussed from refugio to
refugio. The ones we passed today were wearing jeans, light spray
jackets, and little bags on their backs. Some didn't even carry
packs. I raised my arms as I went past, hoping to give them a bit
of the smell of the Camino. Essence Of Ian. Oh the pong.
As we walked through another anonymous village, we saw a small
herd of cattle in a hillside field ahead of us spontaneously make
a dash for the gate. They ran through the gate, hung a left and
trotted along the road towards us. One of the lead pack stopped,
and gave the stragglers a hurry-along. The clip-clopped past us
(we were motionless in the middle of the road, not believing what
we were seeing) and continued on down the road and round the bend.
(Hope you all enjoy the above photo of my fellow pilgrims'
arses...in a couple of days I'll show y'all a photo of their
Boys will be boys. To get to Portomarin we had to cross a long
bridge high above the river. After we'd checked in at the refugio
and done some washing, Davo and I returned to the river and larked
about. We skimmed rocks (not easy since we were a few metres above
the river, and there were no smooth stones around, it was kinda like
trying to skim bricks) and then took turns trying to hit a rocky
outcrop in the river. With a running cricket-style commentary.
Just as our arms were about to drop off, Dave hit the target.
After dinner, a black cat appeared in the dormitory. I was still
more than a little paranoid following yesterday's incident, and was
concerned that this cat might feel the need to mark its territory
as well. I coaxed it out of the dorm and shut the door, returnig to
the kitchen to write my diary. Then I lost sight of the little
mongrel. Everyone in the kitchen was teasing me that the cat had
gone back into the dorm. Yeah laugh it up.
When I went to bed I shone my torch under all the other beds to
make sure the cat wasn't there.