Day 20, to Rubiaes

I woke up at 5:26 to the sound of nothing. No rain. I stayed in bed not wanting to draw back the curtain, roll up the blinds and look out the window just to see silent rain falling. An hour later, I got up to see. Blue sky! Blind Melon's "No Rain" looped non-stop in my head along with visions of the Bee Girl. I didn't bother Gyueon or JH. She was sleeping well.

She woke up at 8. I opened the curtain. She smiled. Assuming we were staying another day did her to recover, I didn't mention walking.

She got up and announcing that we were leaving so, "get ready."

At breakfast, 2 peregrinos walked by, the first we'd seen since the Brazilians. I wondered if we would meet them tonight at the albergue in Rubiaes.

We confidently packed our rain gear away and crossed the bridge that gave this town its name. With my raincoat off, I can hold my head up and actually see things. The town is unrecognizable in sunlight and I feel a little disappointed that we are leaving. Just a little.

I started thinking about "No Rain" and realized that it wasn't appropriate at all. Just the first line disqualifies it, "All is can say is that my life is pretty plain-- I like watching the puddles gather rain."

My life is far from plain. I'm walking from Lisbon to Santiago de Compostella, fer crying out loud. Secondly, I do not like puddles nor do I like watching them gather rain. It's just another obstacle.

Suddenly another song blasted into my head. It made such an exuberant entrance that it didn't even notice that it knocked "No Rain" right off the stage and into a puddle that had gathered a lot of rain. "All I can say is blub blub…"

It twirled, out stretching its arms in love and sunshine, not noticing that it knocked Bee Girl into the drink as well. And the song started, "I can see clearly now, the rain has gone…"

We were feeling good. Finally this was going to be an easy drama-free day. We can overcome any obstacles in our way.

As you know, this is the camino, and, if you've been following my story, there are no easy days. Within 15 minutes we could already see our first obstacle and there was no way around the knee-deep water in the road. We looked right and left. Considered going through. Ahead, up on a hill, we saw the peregrinos from breakfast. We called out, "how?"

They signaled to turn around and follow the road. I was still humming "I can see clearly" but I had a feeling "no rain" was crawling out of the puddle. We followed the road, trying to go east as soon as possible to find the camino again. We were still in a collective good mood and had fun 'recalculating' in our best huffy car GPS voices. We passed the hill that the others had been on. Obviously, they had not gone around and they had looked dry. How did they get across?

Back on course! 25 minutes later under a highway, we saw another obstacle in our way in the form of another impassable flooded road. I looked for a 'partially collapsed bridge' that the guide book said was directly east. Nothing but a river bursting over its banks. If there was a bridge in there, I couldn't see it.

Immediately JH wanted to backtrack. I hate backtracking. We'd already done it once and I wanted to explore other options first. Besides, it was 15 minutes back to the previous road.

I looked west and saw nothing obvious. We considered balancing on top of the stone fence posts and jumping like cats all the way. After 5 posts, I knew it was impossible.

I checked west again and found two options. One down a wooded path, the other on a gravel road parallel to the highway. I was sure the first one would work out but got outvoted. We went west for a long long time. Finally we cut north on an asphalt road, then east. Just as we were starting to doubt the whole thing, we found a yellow arrow. Until lunch, we stayed on asphalt, replacing the yellow arrows of the camino with the yellow lines of the road. After lunch, there were no alternatives.

At lunch, JH barely ate. How can she even walk today?

The trail was spectacular after lunch, that's how. It was up and over a wing of a mountain. Today felt like hiking-- a real trek. Not only did we have a view from the top, it was gorgeous.

We reached our destination, Albergue Escola which I've secretly renamed Albergue Shithole-a because it's a filthy place, unsuitable for humans. JH knew immediately but she's the girl who cried wolf so I didn't really agree. At first.

The light was on so we went in. Nobody was around so we investigated. Kitchen equipped with stove, fridge, pots, pans, and dishes? Dirty, but yes.

Beds and blankets? Yes and no.
Heater? No
Bathroom and shower? Yes but locked.

It was a huge building but we could only get into the dirty kitchen, abandoned reception area, filthy lounge, and dusty dorm on the second floor. The other wing, presumably where the showers and bathrooms were was locked. We each tried the door several times.

Still feeling confident, we walked 500 m down the road to a restaurant to get a key that the guidebook says it has. A man gave us a key and said someone will come in one hour. Feeling even more confident, we bought groceries, took them back and waited. And waited. Over two hours. It was cold and we started noticing that the place wasn't just dirty-- it wax filthy and there was mold everywhere. In the fridge was a plate of uncovered cooked rice, rotting. This is not good.

The peregrinos from the morning appeared. We introduced ourselves. They are from Spain. Fernando, the younger one speaks 5 languages but English is his weakest. His friend, only Spanish. No problema.

Day 19, Ponte de Lima, 0 km

Do I even need to write that it rained? And it was still raining? And it was going to rain? JH feels even worse, like food poisoning without the relief of vomiting and/or diarrhea. The medicine she bought yesterday seems ineffective.

We went out for a very breakfast and tried to do some sight-seeing but the rain was too much even for us. We scurried back to the room like cats afraid to get wet. We stayed inside all day, tending to drying clothes, napping, reading, basically nothing. I was bored.

Finally hunger forced us to leave and find dinner. JH didn't want to come but she'd only eaten a couple pieces of bread and some soup in the last few days.

I don't know why dinner I'd always such a production. My usual rule applied: closest and cheapest. I appreciate fine meals but hate running around looking at a million places. That's what we did because the sick person who wasn't going to eat anything dragged us all over town to look at identical menus and prices. Finally, we walked into one across from last night's.

I ordered the equivalent of fish and chips. Gyueon ordered "barbecued pork, with potatoes and plain rice". JH ordered plain rice. The English speaking waiter left, presumably to his home.

The owner served my order and it looked good. Then an order of plain rice. Then an order of blood rice. We refused it, insisting on plain rice. She took it away. Then the pork came. A pile of it, mixed with blood pudding and stuffed intestines. Uh-oh.

For the next five minutes we tried to explain that we did not order the local delicacy. The owner pointed to each item then to the menu. "Si. Si. Si. Es certo."
Then we realized the mistake-- the Portuguese and English on the menu didn't match. We spent five more minutes trying to explain that. She gave up, made a phone call and the waiter came back.

Eventually we got the correct order but dinner was ruined. We scurried back to our room and I was wondering when we'd be leaving Ponte de Lima.

Day 18, Oh, hail no!

The downpour during breakfast slowed down to just a drizzle when Jacinto dropped us off. JH looked longingly at the car as it drove off.

The great course continued. As beautiful as it is in winter, I can't imagine how it is in non-crappy-weather seasons.

Then we got pelted by rain. Wait, this isn't rain. Hail! Why? It came down, bouncing off our coats and packs, usually getting redirected to our faces. We didn't like it but JH, in a rare moment of glass-fullness, said that it was better than rain. Then Gyueon pointed to some not so distant hills, "and snow". We decided we liked the hail. It passed. Later, we got more, in bigger chunks that packed a bit of a punch. It stopped and so did the rain.

In spite of all the rain, hail, mud, and flooded paths our feet were still dry. JH was feeling even worse but I didn't realize just how bad until now. So far we'd survived: mud, rain, flooding, barking dogs, non-existent accommodations, a very cold night, an alien invasion, an ant invasion, hail, and now a zombie outbreak. JH had joined the ranks of the walking dead.

She asked about accommodations. Sticking to the original plan, and forgetting an earlier discussion, I read the list of choices, insensitively emphasizing the cheap (and probably least comfortable for a sick person) places: a youth hostel, an albergue, then pensaos.

"What about hotels?"
"There's one but it's expensive."
"How much?"
"50", I winced saying it, knowing I'd made a mistake.

She cried. "You don't think I'm worth anything."

I felt worthless. I know we're trying to stick to a budget but really, I was concerned that 50 was too much?

I apologized. All was well. We were going to be warm and comfortable. JH was going to recuperate on our scheduled off-day tomorrow. We enjoyed blue skies for 45 minutes and stopped for a snack.

JH perked up a bit as we got close to Ponte de Lima. We spotted a sign for the Youth Hostel. JH said, "the hotel is across from the hostel. Let's check out the hostel first. Maybe it will be ok."

We followed the sign that took us off course. We found the building but something was wrong. The sign said something else, something about rehabilitation center. That's odd. We asked. It wasn't a youth hostel anymore. She pointed towards town and said a word that made JH wince, "albergue". We did not see the hotel. Looks like that's changed too, into a "screw you guys" center.

Then the skies opened up. Within 10 minutes, we were drenched. The long rain coats had too many holes and were more effective as hooded capes. Even my impermeable coat was breached. It was raining so hard that we couldn't see to cross the streets safely. Did it anyway. Screw you guys!

I couldn't find the pension above the pizza shop. Actually, I couldn't find the pizza shop, if you must know. JH took over the navigating and it turns out that I still can't read simple English.

We found the shop but there was no indication that the upper floors were a pension. We went to the tourist office for HELP!

We mentioned that the youth hostel is closed. They didn't know, made a call, and told us that the youth hostel is closed. Yes, got that, obrigado.

We asked about the pizza shop pension. One woman made a face and said," not good". She recommended 2 places, we took the first one, Sao Joao Pensao, nearby, not feeling confident about the quality.

The woman who runs it was very nice and set us up in a clean cozy room. She brought up towels (yeah!), a space heater, and a clothes rack to set up over it. But wait, there's more! Free wifi! Even better, she did our laundry. She only accepted 70 for two nights.

We had very good pizza for lunch, you know where. JH asked the waiter about rooms for rent. She didn't say it directly but, reading between the lines, those rooms aren't for overnight travelers, I think. We had a very nice room anyway.

Back at the Pensao, we showered and hung the clothes strategically on the rack and around the room. It was raining hard and we didn't want to go out.

But soon Gyueon and I were hungry. Reluctantly JH came with us. After looking at a million restaurants, we finally went to one we'd looked at twice already. I tried a local delicacy, blood sausage and blood rice. I at almost all of it. Now that I've tried it, I never have to eat it again. Gyueon probably had pork. JH just had soup and could barely eat it. It felt like our coldest night yet. We shivered our way back to the pensao and tended to the clothes drying.

Day 18, Ponte de Lima, 13km

I was awakened several times during the night by violent thunderstorms blasting through. I was starting to take the rain personally. It seemed every drop that fell was trying to bite and claw its way through the roof and windows and tear me apart.

We were supposed to go into the house at 8 for breakfast. I was up and ready yo go at 7:20. The others had barely stirred. JH started barking orders at Gyueon, "get up. Put on your socks. No clean socks. Hurry. Watch what you're going. Do this! Do that!" driving him crazy although he didn't show it. I think he was afraid to show annoyance. I think his instincts, for a change, were correct. She snapped a pointless order to make the bed. I was as annoyed as Gyueon. "It's 7:45 you're nowhere near ready, breakfast is in 15 minutes, and you're concerned with a bed that doesn't need making?", I said (in my head).

Finally, at 7:45, she got up… to berate gyueon's poor bed making and to take over the operation. I didn't dare say anything. I have good instincts, and I wasn't even on her radar.

We made it at 8:15. Well, she did. I was there at 8:05. It's obvious that JH is feeling much worse but it's not a cold. Seems like good poisoning or something like it that leaves the sufferer able to be a jerk.

As we were packing, Jacinto was hanging laundry out to dry in the drizzling rain. This country is full of delusional optimists. It's never ever going to be sunny or dry. Never! I will buy you a dryer, just please stop acting like the sun shines. Yeah, I forgot about yesterday.

He gave us a ride to where we'd left off yesterday. He wished us "Bom caminho". I half expected "Merry Christmas".

Day 17

Ants everywhere! Oh, not everywhere, just on the bunk frames. Where did they come from? Where are they going? What do they want? Only a few were off course, wandering onto to clothing and none had detoured to the bag of cereal and chocolate, less than a centimeter off the ant camino. We've been known to detour for less than that.

Gyueon, not heeding my warning, took a shower. He came back 10 minutes later smiling and feeling good. "Hot water?!?!" I asked. "Ung" he expounded. I sprinted in got wet and soaped up in hot water, triumphant. Suddenly there was no hot water. It had been replaced with water from the Arctic. I'm never taking another shower ever again.

I don't know if I said that JH was feeling sick yesterday-- worse today.

The B's were still sleeping when left for breakfast at the Best Cafe Ever on a beautiful sunny morning. We had a snack here yesterday and were excited to go back for breakfast. It's not like they serve pancakes or anything like that but it's great food.

For about the billionth day, the rain started as we left town, just after JH went to a pharmacy. We stopped to put on rain covers and rain costs. Thirty minutes later the rain stopped for good, heralding the news with a double rainbow, but we were not impressed.

Our trusty guidebook says that this course is considered by most to be the most beautiful. I agree. Even with nothing growing in January, the landscape is interesting and the vineyards beautiful. I'd love to see this in spring, summer, or fall. This stage is 33.6 km but we promised Gyueon that we'd never do more than 25 in a day so we split this course up.

Even without the deal with Gyueon, I think it's better this way. I can't imagine speeding through this scenery.

Across another medieval bridge, Ponte dad Tabuas, and we were back amongst flooded fields. Our feet were dry though because the waters had receded. Some of the puddles were so big and deep that the scenery and sky and fluffy clouds were reflected perfectly.

I guess yesterday's blues just blew away.

The camino intersects, merges, and runs parallel to several other trails. We got a thrill seeing a sign for E9, a trail that goes from Sagres, Portugal to St. Petersburg, Russia. That was our original plan. I still wonder if we'll get a chance to do it.

We passed an elementary school at recess. Kids shouted, "hello" and "Bom caminho."

Just past the school, the course turns left but we went straight to get to a cafe 600 meters up ahead. The kids screamed, "NO! NO! LEFT! GO LEFT!"

As we went further off course, more kids ran to the fence to scream. We could still hear them as we walked into the cafe. A half hour later, with recess over we walked back and made the correct turn. I wanted to go into the school to let the kids know that we were alright.

We walked onward.

We passed a little ancient church, which meant that our home for the night was near. All we had to do was look for a distinctive house on the left at an intersection. I neglected to share this information that would have saved us time and aggravation.

2km and a muddy path later, we all realized that we'd overshot and had almost reached a landmark on the next day's course. Now that I shared the information, we racked our brains trying to remember seeing any of the clues in the directions. The best we could come up with was "maybe". We hadn't seen a car in I don't know how long but one cane towards us on the gravel road. I flagged it down and asked the nervous old man driving for help. When he finally understood he smiled and pointed back to where we come from (the way he was heading), but he looked unsure. We thanked him and followed his lead. Five minutes later we were at a crossroads and saw the car coming back. He gestured that he'd realized were where wanted to go and that he'd give us a ride.

Obviously he couldn't drive the way we had come, through a muddy farm path but we took such a long way around that I was starting to think he was taking us somewhere else. Suddenly, he dropped us off at a house that I'd remembered walking past. Round front room? Check. Long bunkhouse! Check. At a crossroad? Check. I'm an idiot? Check!

In my defense, a truck was blocking the sign. Then I knew: I didn't remember or hadn't even noticed the house but I remembered the truck-- it was a pastry delivery truck, and I love pastry.

We'd finally made it to one of the best places to stay, the home of Fernanda and Jacinto, a couple who have been taking in peregrinos and feeding them for ten years. They used to just let people stay in their nice house but a couple years ago they built a cozy building with 12 beds.

The grandmother waved us into the guesthouse and soon their 12-year-old daughter waltzed in, "Spanish or English?"

Apparently grandma had already told her that we didn't speak Portuguese. "English, por favor," we said. Marielle explained everything and announced dinner would be served at seven, "just come into the house."

We had a home cooked meal with a delightful family. Fernanda, is very friendly and talkative. Her English is creative but she gets the point across. Her husband Jacinto is just as friendly but with less English.

They were excited to have Korean guests again. One had stayed with them on "merry Christmas" as Jacinto said. It was surprising how often Christmas came up, but every single time, he said, "merry Christmas."

They hosted their first peregrino ten years ago, a woman who had knocked on the doors of many houses, desperate just to get out of the cold a rain. Finally, she got this house. They fed her, gave her a bed, and have been taking pilgrims in ever since.

Dinner was too much. She gave us seconds, then thirds. Then got Gyueon to eat even more. They were generous with the drinks. Then dessert!

Fernanda has only traveled a couple times to Spain. She's never been anywhere else and she was born and raised not far away. She delivers mail. I find it fascinating that a person who delivers packages from all the worlds and who hosts guests from all over the world, has never seen the world with her own eyes. She's heard all about it though.

The Brazilians never showed up. Perhaps the pastry truck fooled them as well. I hope they're ok, it's a long way to the next accommodations.

Day 16, Barcelos finale

Barcelos is high on a hill. To get there you have to cross a medieval bridge. I'm totally churched out but I'll never tire of these bridges.

We checked ourselves into the Albergue and just stood inside dripping and shivering, as a 9-year-old girl and her mother tidied up. It's still under construction so there are some oddities. The men's bathroom has two toilets but no stalls. The door is out of reach of the toilets and doesn't lock. The kitchen consists of a microwave and construction dust. The rooms are ok. One has a bunk and a cot, the other 3 bunks. Both barely have room for the beds let alone the sleepers.

The showers operate by pushing a button and getting 20 seconds of water. I pushed many many times but I couldn't get hot water. Gyueon pointed out that I hadn't showered yesterday either.

The Brazilians showed up, looking worn out. We talked a little and it looks like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other.

We went for a walk and wondered about the huge rooster sculptures everywhere. We got our answer at the albergue later, where a mural explains the story behind Portugal's symbol [see photo below].

Day 16, Barcelos, part 2

After lunch, we walked in silence, listening to the rain and the tapping of our hiking sticks. I was about 20 steps behind JH and Gyueon and had my hood up and couldn't see anything but rain and cobblestones. I was beginning to think we were going in circles and a simple country upright bass riff was shuffling in my head to the rhythm of my stick and feet. Then, I added guitar, slide guitar, fiddle and drums, composing in my head. The lyrics just popped into my head.

-You might think that maybe you might have walked this road before.
-but you haven't
-that was yesterday, hey hey

-you might think that maybe you might have kissed your girl before
-but you haven't
-since the last time, her feelings have changed, hey hey

-you might think that maybe you might have heard this song before
-but you haven't
-it just sounds a lot like Band of Horses covering 'Okie from Muskogee' [rhyming with hey] [sorry]

-you might think that maybe you might have eaten a ham and cheese sandwich
-but you haven't
-that was breakfast, this is lunch, hey hey

Then I thought of a bridge and chorus.

Bom caminho woohoo
Bom caminho weehee
Everything is the same as you can see
Bom caminho woohoo
Bom caminho weehee
Everything's as different as you and me

I was cracking myself up at more verses I made, verses too stupid to share here. In my mind, every one of my musician friends was playing along, adding verses and solos and we were playing to a very large and very enthusiastic audience.

Suddenly, I was on the brink of breaking down and crying. In the midst of this spectacle, I started thinking about my younger brother who died unexpectedly in March of 2009. For the next 30 minutes in rain that had become heavier, I fought back tears while the ridiculous song kept shuffling along.

JH and I flew to the States for his wake. A week later, I was back at work, scheduled to teach a unit on family, but I skipped to the next unit.

As soon as the next semester ended, we flew back to the States to visit family and scatter Derek's ashes in various places.

At the time, my parents lived on the beach in New Jersey, Derek had lived very close. We all loved the beach. My older sister Kim, Derek and I would always swim out over heads and just float and try to body surf. That summer Kim and I took a little Baggie of Derek with us and released them into the choppy waves, and body surfed.

Derek worked as a clammer for awhile in a nearby inlet. That job scared him every time he had to lift a catch of clams ip inuo the boat, temporarily getting submerged by the weight but he worked hard at it and enjoyed it. We scattered more ashes along the shore where he clammed.

Next, we took a road trip to New England. The family living in the house that we lived in for 25 years allowed to look around. We scattered more of Derek in the creek we played in.

One of his favorite places was the White Mountains, in New Hampshire, especially along the Kangamaugus highway. We think we found his favorite creek and tipped in some ashes, standing in the water until our feet were numb.

Derek never would have done this trip but he would have approved. He would have coped better with the discomfort, walking through mud and puddles. He liked traveling.

The song kept playing.

I added a new verse, but it won't be on the album:

-I guess you think that maybe you might have gotten over the worst part of losing someone.
-but you haven't.

Eventually I caught up to JH and told her what had been going through my head. We walked on holding hands. She'd been thinking about her mother who passed away 4 years ago after a long illness. We asked Gyueon what he'd been thinking about. "Just funny things my friends do," was all he would say. He doesn't remember his grandmother.