21 apr

Walked from Requejo to A Guidina, 40 kilometres.
Had a late start again. Partly enjoying my paradise for myself, partly caused by the fact that the dryer didn’t seem to want to do its job. Yesterday evening I had it work for one hour, but it was still wet when I returned from my superb three course meal (€6,50) at the local restaurant. I wondered if the wash had been that wet at the start. Put in another euro for another half hour just before I got to bed. When I checked this morning, the wash was still wet. That’s when I realized I had been drying this wash at 50 degrees. No wonder.
Turned the knob to 150 degrees and the dryer did the trick. But it was 9.30am before I left the albergue.
The largest mountains of the Via de la Plata were awaiting me, 1310 metres and 1258 metres. The first one was fine, partly because we were transferred to the road because of the construction of the high speed railway between Madrid and Santiago that has been plaguing us pilgrims from about Zamora. My guide from 2011 already complains about it. The money seems to have run out of Spain. Ah well, we know that story.
The second mountain brought us into Galicia, the most beautiful Spanish region again. It must have been steeper than the other mountains I’ve climbed recently. I had to stop several times to catch my breath. But it was well worth it. Entering Galicia was like seeing a good old friend. The landscape was like from the moon. Lots of rocks everywhere. The area had a big forest fire in 2006. The new shoots of trees and bushes were visible, but not enough for the scars not being clearly visible.
An old farmer walked out of his field of chestnut trees. Hoe on one shoulder, umbrella on the next. He bombarded me with Spanish sentences, or was it galician? I told him I didn’t speak the language. We walked silently for a little while, him saying something in spanish, me saying something in english, without understanding eachother at all. Then he asked if I spoke french, because he had lived in Switzerland. The next fifteen minutes, before our paths diverted, were hugely enjoyable. The landscape and the food, those were the most special things about Galicia, according to him. Don’t forget the friendly people, I said. He laughed. We talked about chestnuts and eucalyptus trees. We talked about the high sped train that was coming. He stopped me and showed where the 6 kilometre tunnel was beginning and ending.
This high speed trail might be the future, but to me this guy who walks up to his field of chestnut trees with his hoe and his umbrella – his age was 67, he wrote it down in the sand – was a good connection to the past.
The weather has turned colder, but we’ve hardly sen any rain. I was thinking at the amazing spring season I have seen. Today i saw some oak trees buttoning out. It was a first for me. But I also still saw some snow drops and prim roses blooming. This has been the strangest spring ever.
Finally arrived in A Guidina. I walked past the albergue, but David, from western Canada, showed me the way. He is a retired veterinarian who told me the most amazing story about this village of Russian Canadians that he had been working in. They wanted to establish a community, based on the principles and funded by Tolstoj himself. There were bombings and nudity as a protest and it all sounds like a great novel just waiting to be written. David even showed me his tatoo of a Santiago cross on his hand. It just makes my collection of Camino crosses complete.
Tomorrow will have to start early. So time for bed.