20 apr

Walked from Mombuey to Requejo, 44 kilometres.
The secret of long walks is to start early. And I didn’t do that today. Early enough compared to the days when the warm bed with Julie was too attractive to start the walking day before something like 9.30, but today I looked at my phone ( my watch) and it was 8.23. That means it would be after 2pm before I had walked 30 kilometres. And then there was still a whole stretch of lovely Castile, the province I am in, to follow.
There was a good reason for not getting up early. I slept horrible. The beds were made like a trampoline that had been severely stretched over the past 250 years of use. There was no way to lay flat.
Ah well, morning comes anyway. I never set an alarm anymore. With all these people around it has no use. Chances are somebody else wants to wake up at, say, 7am. And then there have been others waking up at 6.30am, 6.45 am, 6.52am. And all with alarms that will guarantee that everybody else wakes up. Even with ear plugs.
But in this trampoline albergue nobody seemed to make an attempt to leave. There were two older woman, seriously old – in their seventies (this one is for you, ma and mom), from Australia who just had to take a resting days after having walked at least 15 kilometres the day before. No, I’m kidding. They took a break because it was Easter. And Easter is a resting day, according to the most vital of the two. Walking is my way of resting, I responded. Which sounded snappier than I intended, a little smart, but anyone who would have seen me walking the last 12 kilometres would have realized how silly it really sounded.
Talking about easter, I was surprised to see that there were Spanish guys cutting down trees with a chainsaw in the morning, not the most appropriate Easter sound, I think. And then, while entering another town I heard somebody practicing a bagpipe. It was a christmas song he/she was playing: Gloria in excelsis deo. Two wrongs on an easter sunday morning: Bagpipes and a Christmas song.
Saw the most lovely sculpture of hell, at least I think it was hell. But it looked like a nice bubble bath. Hell as a desirable place to be, also not really in the Easter spirit, I suppose.
http://www.via-jakobsweg.de/Otero%20de%20Sanabria-520-5.jpg
There was another lovely church dedicated to Santiago (St James) at the end of my walk. Saw the outside only. Even on Easter sunday these bloody spanish do not open their churches. Part of the reason is that there are so many old treasures in these churches. Unlike France and Holland there have not been a bunch of criminals who chopped of heads of beautiful art in a drunken rage. It’s just there the way it is supposed to, behind closed doors.
The albergue I am in is the best. I have the whole sleeping room, probably 20 beds, for myself. Good mattresses, even sheets and towels, so I don’t have to mummify myself in my sleeping bag. I love my own towel though. It is one of these space age ones. You can shower and when you dry the towel gets a little wet. But you can easily shower ten times and the towel will still absorb all the wetness. Amazing. That mummy sleeping bag is amazing too, by the way. It rolls up to something the size of a large camera. It has a little cover and every time I start pushing it in, I suspect it won’t fit. But it seems like the bag is expanding, just like the Galaxy. Mysterious, but wonderful. I am sure I will sleep like a rock, and maybe my back will be healed in the morning.