Day 31, July 8th, 2023
Angela is up early and leaves before me. I sit down in the kitchen and eat my yogurt with some rolled oats, nuts, and prunes. Coffee is out of the question, of course, but I am slowly getting used to it.
It is raining. The first rain in ages, so I am pulling on my rain poncho. So early in the day, with the all the mist and rain in the forest, everything seems so peaceful. I love the sound of raindrops as they fall and hit the lush vegetation, the large and small leaves, plip, plop, and splish, splash, as they land in puddles. And the moss on the forest floor smells so fresh.
Yummy treats in Montán
In Samos, I pass a barn where a local resident has set up a pilgrim buffet, financed by donations. It is such a wonderful idea, if I lived here on the Camino, I would do exactly the same. There is a seating area, and the whole garden is full of scallop shells, painted stones, signs with sayings, Tibetan prayer flags, and so on, a fantastic atmosphere. The host prepares coffee for us pilgrims in his kitchen while we help ourselves to juice, various biscuits, pancakes, sliced tomatoes and avocados, bananas, and oranges. Too bad I am too late for an egg, the basket is empty. An egg would be the perfect thing right now.
Barbadelo
My destination today is Barbadelo. Here I have a bed in an eight-bed dormitory, which is already quite full. Although it is still early, most people are dosing on their beds. The curtains are drawn, and it is very quiet, I hardly dare make my bed. So I try to get settled in as quiet as possible which happens at a snail's pace. I just want to quickly check tomorrow's route on my phone when I accidentally start the navigation and the computer voice urges me to get going at full volume. I frantically wave my hand around trying to turn the volume down, almost throwing my phone on the floor in the process.
»Sorry, sorry, sorry,« I whisper, hoping I haven't woken anyone, when suddenly the computer voice starts up again, this time with directions. Panicked, I wedge my phone between my legs and want to disappear into the ground, because it won't stop talking, and the mute button is buried deep in my lap.
»Sorry, sorry, oh so sorry,« I plead, and a young female pilgrim diagonally opposite grins broadly. Then the door opens, and a very familiar face walks in. I can't place the man at all and actually have to ask his name. When he says 'Alex,' it hits me like a ton of bricks. Of course, my favorite Scotsman! He and his new pilgrim friend are sharing the bunk bed next to mine, and I am looking forward to sitting with them later. So I jump in the shower and then sit down at one of the tables in the garden. Where are Alex and his friend now? They have vanished without a trace. Are they exploring the village? Never. It is far too hot, and besides, their feet must be killing them.
Now I am sitting here, longing for the company of familiar faces. Angela walked further than me today. Unfortunately I have forgotten where she ended up, but she texted me that she found a great hostel with only five beds in the room and is currently sitting with a Belgian man, drinking beer. Great, I think, and as I am musing away, a dolled-up, sophisticated German woman named Carolin joins me. Mid-sixties, I would guess, the first woman with eyeshadow and makeup I have seen on the Camino so far. The way she speaks and what she says strikes me as naive, perhaps even arrogant, scatterbrained, somehow spaced out. She says she used to be a makeup artist in Cologne, which at least explains her appearance. When she hears that I am a flight attendant, she actually asks me if there isn't an age limit for that. Bloody cheek!
Alex and his friend arrive, but sit at a different table, far away from me and the dolled-up woman, and since I don't want to be rude, I stay where I am, order a mixed salad and then go to bed.
My belly and my arms are itching and scratching. Damn mosquitoes, I think…
Distance: 21,4 km / Steps: 33839