22 June Triacastela to Barbadelo
The rain last night didn’t allow my hand laundry to dry. So, after being the last single person to leave the room (I won’t tell you what the last couple were doing), at 7:40, which is late for me on this trip, I left my Albergue doing my latest impression of a walking clothes line.
Although I am in a steep-sided valley the sun has crested the horizon and is fingering and probing its bright make you feel-good way into the gloom of a mist filled pathway I must follow.
It isn’t too much walking before the sky which was grey and moody gives way to the inevitable joy of morning and becomes much more bright and cheery, complimenting my mood.
There is another choice to be made this morning. One decision meant I would miss out on something I wanted – such is life huh? Anyway, I decide against a slightly longer route that would take me past one of the oldest religious sites in Europe in favour of early sharp climbs to reach possible good views of the route for today. Although I miss out on the cultural pleasure, I hope you will agree I won with the pleasure Mother Nature offered me.
A little later than normal because I was lost in my walking and thoughts I remembered to stop and let my toes see where they were. They found themselves looking at what for all purposes could have been the Devon countryside in England.
My walking has been through wooded valleys dappled with bright, sharp and clear early morning sunshine. I have steeped over crystal clear springs and trod ancient stone and wooden bridges over streams that seemed to have flowed for a lifetime. I walked through farmland studded with building remains that could recite a million lost love songs and countless memories. I have walked uphill and downhill to the sound of birdsong and at times nothing more than my laboured breathing and my heart pounding in my ears. Cow-bells, farmyard chickens and cockerels calling out their place in the world and their contentment with life have been at one with the crunch, crunch, crunch of my clumsy heavy steps over a path trodden by countless others. It is glorious. It is fulfilling and perhaps I alone am the only one who can drink deep of this happiness and quench this thirst of mine to walk, to be me, to be.
The next hours are lost to me, such is the joy I have in this walking and the next thing I am aware of is the town of Sarria with a Fiesta taking place. I am not ready to stop walking and pass through Sarria. I stop only to take photos to remind me of what I am missing.
I walk through Sarria as quickly as I can to this.
For no reason other than I decide to stop walking I stop just outside a place called Barbadelo. This is where I shall spend tonight.
This is Joe and Margaret from Australia who bought me a beer.
I did my laundry, had a bite to eat and some stretching exercises before going for a little stroll. I found this crucifix which I liked.
Tucked away in a dark corner of where I am staying I found this which took my fancy.
Steps today 32339
Bye for now folks