Day 27- Ponferrada is the absolute worst city to get out of-no flechas or conchillas to be found. We leave late- 8:00 because of a problem with my backpack that I sent on yesterday. Maybe in the excitement of having those half dressed Germans sing me Happy Birthday, I forget (or someone stole) the 7€ we pay for the service, out of the envelope attached to my big backpack. Either way, we sleep in a little
so I can make sure the darling owner of the hostal is up in time to give my two days payment to the pick-up guy.
We have a lot of little pueblos (villages) to hike through. In one called Cumbrianos, there is a young man encouraging passing Peregrinos to go to the Cafe Gran Sol, just ahead. I ask him who is he doing this publicity for... his father, brother? He answers "For me!" He is the owner. I think "Yeah, right! You look all of 18! Turns out he is; his name is Ivan and he is 31! I chat up the waitress for this info and when I tell Nancy, she replies "Well, his being on a Scooter didn't help!"
A cute chihuahua type dog follows us and sits ever so quietly by our table, waiting for a bite. He is so gentle, has no collar and looks thin. So of course, we give him some of our croissant. I ask the owner of El Cafe Gran Sol, baby faced Ivan, if the dog has an owner. He replies, with a smile "Yes! The dog just comes here EVERY morning, cause he knows the Peregrinos will feed him!" Suckered in by a cute pooch!
We have gray skies again. I want to try to stay ahead of these big rain clouds. I am getting cranky; fourth day with no sun!
BTW- thank you all for the birthday wishes, especially the ones with personal messages. They MADE my day!
I have to mention that my credential, my pilgrim passport that I have to get stamped every day, is an unusual one. I bought it before leaving Canada, from the Association des Pèlerins Acadiens et Acadiennes du NB. Well, I get comments all the time from those who have to stamp it and record my passport, that MINE is the FIRST one they have ever seen before. Goes to show that not too many Acadians do the Camino, I guess. I LOVE being different!
By lunch we still have 14 km to go. I am tired of waiting for Baerbel and Nancy, who stop to smell the roses, (literally and figuratively) all the time. I like to get to destination, (today it is Villafranca Del Bierzo) and relax there. So I forge on ahead.
By the time I get to this pueblo, I realize our hostal is on the far end of town. There are no signs advertising it. I get tired of asking people where it is- no one seems to know. When I ask this sweet faced little Spanish grandmother, she is SO helpful that I burst into tears. She takes me by the hand, saying - "Trust in God. Don't cry! You speak Spanish so well. My name is Amelia. Come, I will show you." Her kindness makes me cry all the harder and the sweet faced owners of the hostal, don't know what to make of me either, as I check in, still sobbing!
The owner is 82 and looks ten years younger. He brings me to the bar, where I have to register. This is common when staying in hostales which are like boarding houses really, with your own room and bathroom. So cheap- 25€ per night and you aren't listening to the snores of 18 other people. I must admit though, that German men don't snore! I speak from experience, as I slept with over a dozen of them, the eve of my birthday!
Señor Sweet Faced tells me that while he has never walked The Camino, he walks a lot every day.
A shower, and two glasses of the local red wine called Bierza, later, as I blog outside on the patio of a Cafe, with the sun deciding to shine brightly for more than two seconds, I know that all is right with my world, once again. Such is The Camino, which today, I did My Way!
Con mucho amor y agradecimientos de Villafranca Del Bierza, Espana.
PS: Señor Sweet Faced just came by to show me his birth certificate. I guess he thinks I don't believe him. I show him a picture of my 81 year old mother, who looks even better than him! I don't tell him that though!
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