Zafra

For the first time in a long while I am in a city big enough to have Internet. I was told that the cybercafe would open at 7:30 a.m., which seemed impossible for Spain, and indeed it was locked even at noon. Looking for a spot to eat my first napolitana chocolate of this journey, I spied a library, and am now typing for free ... even better. This is the way of the Camino.

My blisters are somewhat better, after using every conceivable cure for them, and resting them at times also. I'm sure my new pink socks are partly responsible for the cure... after all, how can feet possibly be unhappy in pink socks?

I'm very glad that my blisters held me up, for my rest day was a day of pouring rain, and I would not have enjoyed walking 30 km on slopes made slippery by the rain. Also, there is a much smaller group of pilgrims walking now, which means that there is no rush to get a spot in the albergue ... walking is now much more relaxed.

The countryside has been quite hilly for the most part, gradually climbing, though now more level for a bit. The hills mean itś only possible to walk about 4 km per hour. And now that it's a bit more level, I walk into a biting cold wind much of the time. I have been wearing everything that I brought in order to keep warm ... a steaming hot bowl of soup makes a wonderful end to the day.

The trail runs through parks, highways, and farmland ... many farms. I open gate after gate and travel through, wondering what will be on the other side. One day, shortly after passing through a gate, I found a big stone fence two feet to my right, and to the left, a herd of cattle ... large cattle with long horns, and no fence. I recalled that cattle are gentle animals and decided that the best course of action was to believe that and to continue walking. I was glad that it wasn't raining, for I would have felt like a target in my big red rain poncho. And I learned that what I had heard about cattle was correct.

Another day the trail was blocked by a flock of sheep. I continued forward, and as I walked, the sheep walked in front of me. For about 500 m we continued this way, and I felt like a shepherd, guiding the flock to greener pastures. When we found the pastures, the sheep turned off to graze, and I continued on my way.

Like the Camino Frances, this Camino is full of angels, appearing exactly when help is needed. When the arrows are unclear, someone materializes out of nowhere to point out the way. Pedro and Christina, two pilgrims from northern Spain have certainly been angels all along the way. Whenever I arrive in a village looking for accommodation, they suddenly appear, having already checked out all the lodging and mysteriously obtaining a key from offices with signs indicating that they are closed. They obtain information for me in Spanish, and then patiently repeat it in a simpler Spanish that I can understand. They reappear when the museums open, and find all the interesting places to visit.

Semana Santa is now over, but I have seen processions in several of the villages along the way. In one village, Pedro led us into a church to get an inside view of how the big floats are moved through the small doorways. The floats are very heavy, each person under them carrying 50 kg or so, and there are special hospitals to treat their injuries. But the doorways are too low for them to carry the floats by walking underneath, so they move to the sides, the float tipping precariously where someone is not strong enough to hold its weight. We watch breathlessly as the float makes it through the doorway with only minor damage. And that is quickly repaired by a man with a ladder who follows for just such occurrences.

At times when my feet ache I wonder why I have chosen to walk this path, and then I know, for just around the corner I spy an old castle with sheep grazing around it peacefully ... the views while walking are stunning, and I stop frequently just to take in the beauty. In the evening I may find myself with a group of people eating tapas ... forks flying into the communal plates as we share what life is like in our countries.

I am also encouraged to know that the pilgrim grapevine works as well on this trail as on the Camino Frances. I had a 10'minute conversation with a pilgrim I encountered along the way (entirely in Spanish ... a real sense of accomplishment to be able to do this), and he asked if I had seen the German peregrina who had been left behind with stomach problems. Later that evening when a German peregrina walked into the albergue, I knew it was her. We walked together all day yesterday, though today she is taking a bus a few stops ahead due to time constraints. However I know she will carry news of me to the pilgrims that I said goodbye to on my rest day, and I am comforted to know that we are all connected.