"Don't rain on my parade!
Overcast skies and threatening rain replaced the glorious sunshine that has been wonderfully ever present since we arrived almost a month ago. The silver lining to these clouds is that the rain never really materialized so it was good walking weather. It was also good bus taking weather. Shortly after Dayton set out to walk to Negreira, I hiked the two kilometres to the bus station. Travelling by bus in Portugal and Spain is more comfortable than one would imagine. Even going from one small village to another rates a highway touring bus and the bus drivers have been very patient and helpful. Today the driver assured me he would let me know when we got to Ponte Maceira where Dayton and I had arranged to meet, at a cafe by the old bridge. The driver even went off route to drop me by the cafe by the bridge.
I settled in to order a tea and wait for Dayton to walk by but a chance comment I made to the bartender asking to confirm that the Camino path did indeed pass right by here ended up with me grabbing my backpack and poles and flying out the door and up the country road to the Camino one kilometre away. Who knew there were two cafes by two different bridges in a little town of maybe thirty houses? When I saw the second bridge I immediately recognized it from the two other times I had been there; a really old bridge with white capped waters gushing by and a charming stone cafe. Dayton still wasn't there at the time we had guesstimated so I left him a note tucked into a crevice in the rocks and started over the bridge to Negreira.
I knew that it would It would be no time until Dayton caught up with me and it wasn't. I do not cover much territory quickly at the best of times and this is not the best of times for me. I plodded along and was caught up with and overtaken in exactly no time.
Negreira did not seem like the most picturesque or exciting town but, on an afternoon walkabout, we did find a more than humble little taberna for a cup of tea and a filled to the brim bowl of white wine; a no label backyard vintage. The bar was also featuring a makeshift sidewalk pulperia with a huge propane fuelled heater boiling up huge octopi which were scooped out with a hook then sliced and diced on a wooden table at the back of the bar. Health regulations might be a little more lenient or flexible here or maybe they don't count on Sundays.
Our hotel is also an albergue and everyone staying here is a pilgrim on their way to Fisterra or Muxia. We had dinner at the hotel restaurant where the Pilgrim's Meal was offered for €10.00. Imagine a ten euro meal with a choice of a platter of salad, a cauldron of soup or a bucket of spaghetti as the starter, then a choice of beef, chicken, hake or salmon as the entree and finish that with a choice of Santiago tart, cake or yogurt for dessert and of course it all comes with a huge basket of rustic bread and a bottle of wine...this one with a real label. Dayton said the hake was the best prepared and most flavourful fish he had had so far. Now imagine going on a walking vacation, walking 20-35 kms a day carrying a 30lb pack and gaining weight. Hmm. It happens.
Empty Catedral square at 7:00 AM.
Last glimpse of Catedral.
The beautiful start to Fisterra just outside Santiago.
Dayton's walking partners from Denmark and Montreal.
Yeah!!!!!! Back on the path. He found me.
Pulpo boiling away in Negreira.