Diary VBcamino7
September 10 was a short sleep and up to airport at 5am wine by 11am Spanish time in Santander then bus to Burgos for another 5 then another bus at 4pm to Leon nominate then leave hibs fleecy and hat hear 4-4 leon v Valladolid jamon jamon more wine return to hotel by midnight and out for 9:15 bus to ponferrade before walking to albergue In bierzo pumped and drunk we slept well in albergue on Monday night. We had eaten a 3 course lunch in cacabelos or somewhere and had the bright idea to arse wine not water and the dye was cast.
I remember going up and having a shower while Stu did Something but no idea now what it was. We had drink bought some food and wine returned about 9 and felt sensible
Next day it was up and out the lovely river road to travadelo. We took it easy with breaks and unlimited water with sugary tea Verdi- lunch was a non event as we stopped at a cafe not a restaurant bar. Tortilla was powdery shop bought. Schoolboy error every pilgrim knows Ambarestas has a great cafe as you come on around the corner where the horse sign is but at 11:45 there were no tables outside. That doesn't make it closed it just means go inside and wait!
Moments earlier we'd been in la portela lighting candles. So many people to light candles for. Loads of friends and family and so that's how I split my 2€ - one friends, John, Tom, Walls, Kenny, Graeme and Neil Smith, hilary's mum, the list went on seemingly endless even Paul Wynne. The family candle faired no better as Margaret, Kyle and the 3 generations of Mackay's got my thoughts as well a list of family I knew but never thought I'd recall. As I thought about Margaret the mind slipped seamlessly into Dougie, then Graham and Gail, Linda and you realise this is quite long time to spend in a church lighting candles so you take your thoughts out to the light. You also add the living, not least my mum and dad.
Well, that's my excuse for not lighting a candle to the God of lunch and lo behold 10 minutes later I'm eating powdery mash.
We had been in and out of the showery rain and while our bags were wet it was warm rain and we dried quickly. We were going to gamble on Los Herrerias having space in Casa Polin but we took the plunge and booked ahead. 2 hours later we were there showered and ready to rumble in the foothills of O'Cebreiro.
I got our washing together and as every good tour guide would do ventured down for a beer. "Cerveza por favor , y, esta lavadora?" My hackneyed phrase wasn't required as she gave me beer and bumped me served another customer with a wave and a "Si". As in see you later. Well accustomed as I am I did exactly what I was supposed to and went outside, sat in the sun and drunk my beer. It tasted better than powdery mash tortilla, in fact it washed it all away with two hearty glugs. As I neared the end of my beer, my lavadora saviour beckoned me down steps into the bowels of the building, tricky steep stairs, under and around damp sheets a traditional health and safety nightmare. She gave me a smile pointed at the lavadora and I understood that look immediately. "You sweaty socks, me no touch your filthy washing". A very smart woman, I smiled knowingly back. Then the fun began. "Poco" powdero I tried "allergico", another smile and she emptied half a kilo of powder back into the box. At 30 degrees we rarely see any of this stuff dissolve. It usually just binds to our threadbare garments and holds them together like weetabix on a sink. Next to meet the washing Gods was the on off switch. Clearly it wasn't working. Now we were both off duty having looked at he myriad of plugs and points in the basement, she ushered me back around the sheets and up the tricky wee stairs. Glad I'd only had one beer!
Stu had now arrived and so more beer was ordered. A thumbs up from the wonderful Maria filled us with confidence that our washing was now doing battle with the powder and a wave about "Secunda" may have secured us either an extra beer or a drier for our washing both of which we needed.
With the second beer completed, we ventured out to see the sights of los Herrerias. As we had passed them on the way in, we knew there were 6 to do. The plan was to walk back to the first bar and then have a drink in the other five. A Noble ambition and we succeeded. We didn't quite manage them in the correct order as we stopped at the first bar, Victor the horseman's local, nearest our Casa to try on hats.
We made our way down to the Albuquerque at the beginning of Life s Herrerias where a large group of younger walkers were finishing a noisy 3 courses with wine. Wine looked a good move so we moved to wine. We continued on the wine as we headed back along the road and we're back at casa polin for our 3 courses about 7:30pm.
As we sat down to have a meal, Maria let me know the washing was now dry and I could get it before or after. "Tranquillo" suggested she wasn't rushing me but I knew best to go now as it wasn't the easiest. Back down the stairs she ushered me laughing at my clumsy drunken headbuts of the rafters. After walking through the damp sheets she gave me the dry washing and steered me back towards the light of the doorway. Back up the tricky steps I sprung until the top step tumble as I spilled the clothes over a sleeping Alsatian. That was sobering. I'm on the floor, the washing is on his head and his ears poked out through Stu's blue shorts. I've had a few "the end is nigh" moments but he shook off the shorts and I ran to the room with the clean stuff!
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