an idiot in spain

santiago diaries

Sunday, 17th September.
And then there were four

Something really funny happened this morning, but it just doesn't translate to the written word. I guess you'll all just have to wait for the movie.

(movie? you are kidding aren't you?)

The girls did list one requirement for the actresses cast to play the parts of "beautiful girls from Canadia": they must have large breasts. I pointed out that it would then make the long conversations we had about how ridiculous boob jobs look, and how small breasts are better because big breasts sag with age, seem more than a touch ironic.

Anyway, we are three no longer: Dave has joined us to make four.

We arrived in Santo Domingo de la Calzada via a dirty industrial suburb. We found a refugio and checked in. The refugio was a big, open hall. We washed our clothes out the back, while chooks pecked around our feet, then collapsed for a siesta.

It wasn't easy getting to sleep. We had a world-class snorer in our midst. And it wasn't me. And it wasn't Dave. It was some Brazilian guy. Dirk had taken the bed next to him. Dirk is a Dutch guy (funny name for a Dutch bloke, I know) and he is doing the Camino with his girlfriend, whose name I can't remember. They're both fluent in English, and speak Spanish a helluvalot better than any of us.

Dirk was doing his best to get to sleep, but this Brazilian guy was on a snore de force! After five or ten minutes of this, Dirk threw his sleeping bag off and proclaimed: "This is a living hell!" We dissolved in hysterics.

Later in the afternoon, Dave and I wandered around the town while the girls slept. Or pretended to sleep. We watched a group of men playing a game of soccer on a sealed pitch behind the school. All of a sudden a dog was loose on the pitch, chasing the ball, then getting chased by sweaty, swarthy Spanish men. (Must be what dating is like for Spanish girls.) The dog was getting more and more worked up, and then it had a crap on the pitch! The men were outraged! They chased after the dog with renewed vigour, only for it to have another sneaky dump on the pitch! We didn't stick around to see how it panned out, we had a suspicion it could get ugly.

There were two live chooks in the church. I am not making this up. There is a story behind the chooks being in the church, but I just can't be bothered retelling it here. (Apathy rocks!)

In the evening there was a brass band playing outside the refugio. Not for our benefit, it must be said, but it was something to do with the forthcoming fiesta. They'd play one or two songs, then retreat to the bar for twenty, thirty minutes. Then they'd re-emerge to play another alcohol-fuelled song or two. The process would then repeat.

The nuns fed us at dinner. We went to the other refugio in town (which looked much nicer than the one we'd landed in) and the nuns that run the refugio there fed us up real good! Mmmm, those chips! They were goooooood. And we had flan for dessert.