Day 44 - 22 Kilometres

Triacastella to Sarria

Today we started the day winding our way up and down through misty hills and gnarled old trees. If I didn´t know I was in Spain, I would believe myself lost in an Irish fairytale. Nearly all morning we are surrounded by slender birches, cloud silver skies, and the sound of running water.

We were the first to arrive at the Albergue, and so not only get our names first in the book (pilgim status symbol), but also our choice of beds (much more practical). The albergues can get pretty stuffy and stinky at night. Imagine 20-50 people who have walked 15-40Km. Now imagine them all taking off their shoes. Now imagine them all unrolling the same sleep sheets and sleeping bags they have been sleeping in for the past month sans washing machine...

Window-side bottom bunks are prime real-estate, and are usually claimed by the first arivees. We have gotten very good at being among of the first in town for this very reason.

The windows of this particular albergue overlooked a private courtyard lorded over by a large and very ferocious-looking black dog. As there was nowhere to hang out our washing, I ran my hair ribbon across the window and proceeded to pin our socks to it. Guess where one of the socks fell? And this wasn´t an ordinary sock either. It was one of the handy travel socks with a zippered pocket and arch support. I waited and debated, holding its mate.

In a little while the owner of the courtyard came outside. I held up my lonely sock and said "Por Favor, la otra de este es en su jardin" and looked pathetic. I have also discovered the power of looking pathetic when language skills fail. Luckily he was very friendly and tossed the wayward sock up.

It turns out that he was in the yard to give the giant dog a bath. The dog clearly adored him. He equally clearly did NOT enjoy his bath, and whimpered the most pathetic little cries the whole time.

This albergue (like several in Galicia) had a lovely kitchen with only ONE pot. Rather than fight over the one pot, we opted for sandwiches and gazpacho for dinner. I make large sandwiches, and even learned a German word for them. Phonetically "Maul Schperrer" meaning, mouth stopper.

Our friends the Hungarian Girl, Slovakian Girl, and Irish Boys all joined us, and fueled up with "Maul Sperrern" continued on their way to the next village.

We opted to stay on and enjoy our window-side bottom bunk.