We wake at 6am with rustling and packing sounds in our room, after yet another night with no sleep. With no heat in the albergue & no extra blankets we literally froze all night. Normally when it's cold we can put on extra layers of clothing but everything we have is still wet.
Colleen starts walking with us but we know we have to move as quickly as possible today to stay warm & to get somewhere early enough to do wash. We chat for a short bit but then have to part ways so we can get to Ages.
The terrain today is again difficult, with three separate altitude gains of 1,200 meters followed by rapid, steep, descents. The distance is 23k with no towns along the way. We set off prepared for the worst possible scenario, which always includes rain, wind, snow, mud, slipping and falling down at least once, and is complemented by the dull pains of hunger, which seem to be ever present now no matter how much we eat. The one luxury we have afforded ourselves today is a secured reservation in a private albergue with laundry facilities, wifi, & any meals we want. All of this under the same warm roof. Pure heaven!
We begin with a steep climb straight up and after 2k the wind starts blowing harder and colder. After an hour we are literally frozen. Our hands unable to move or do the simplest of tasks. My mind starts racing through all of the cold weather survival skills I've ever learned from Mitchell C. Shoemaker & Co. while hiking in the Cascades.
We stop and get everything out of our packs that we can possibly put on, wet or dry. We put multiple pairs of dirty socks on our hands to keep them warm. We get all the food we have and put it in easy to reach places and then we start to move at a pace that's more of a jog than a walk. Within 20 minutes we are feeling better, our bodies generating more heat and our multiple layers holding it in. Once again we notice that there are no pilgrims anywhere in sight. This is always an eerie feeling because there are normally pilgrims walking in front of you and behind in a steady line. We assume the snow forecasts have caused them to take a rest day.
We pass beautiful giant heather bushes covered in purple blooms. Jenny tells me through frozen purple lips that in Germany they are called "Erika" but that she's never seen them that large before. I laugh to myself about how funny it is to be two different female names and make a mental note to tell her later when we are warm. My mind drifts to my next door neighbor in Hawaii whose name is also Erika, and wonder if she knows that her name means "Heather" in Germany. Then I begin to wonder if she's laying on a warm sunny beach at this very moment. It's not long before I'm picturing all my friends in Hawaii on the beach together, lying in the sun and sipping cocktails, and I can't help but think, "What the heck am I doing here?!?"
After a long while without talking, I can tell that Jenny is struggling just as much as I am. I know I have to try something to pull us out of the funk, so I get her to teach me all the Spanish words for my breakfast order. Then I begin signing them to the song, "Fuego, Fuego, the roof is on fire" it goes something like this: "Huevos, jamon, poco patatas, cafe con leche, e zumo por favor!" I sing this for a while and dance around like a fool until she joins me. This does the trick for both of us and before we know it we are standing in a bar in San Juan de Ortega smiling from ear to ear & singing our breakfast orders for real.
It's only a short 4.5k walk to our warm cozy albergue. We arrive and find many pilgrims searching for a place to sleep. It was so good that we booked!
We take hour long hot showers, then put our laundry in to wash and settle to write in our journals. We agree that it almost seems like the horrible day was nothing more than a very bad dream. If it weren't for the fact that our fingers and toes have swollen to the size of plump sausages and our faces bright red and radiating heat, we'd never know that we almost froze to death, while taking a gentle stroll through Spain in May, nonetheless. I really have to admit, if I haven't already, that this is not quite the experience that I had pictured when I decided to do this.
Jane & Charlotte are here and blanket us with hugs and concern when we come face to face with them in the hallway. They knew the albergue in Villabistia had been closed, and that weather through the mountain pass had been awful. They had decided to err on the side of caution and take a bus, but had been very worried for us. Such a sweet Camino family we've managed to acquire!
It's not long before Fabby, Martin, & Benedict, come through the door, but sadly, Marek has gotten a bug and stayed behind in Belorado to recoup. The boys tell me they stayed with him for a day and he was asking for soup and whatnot, driving them crazy. They all felt like he needed his Camino Madre. I'm sending him well wishes every chance I get, but there's no way that I'm going to back track!
Dinner is fairly good, but once again, the company is great. We sit at a table with Jane & Charlotte and really enjoy chatting with them. The table next to us has 6 French women who are loud & boisterous, drinking wine by the gallon & laughing nonstop. At one point, I swear I hear Charlotte say, "It's as if they've never had rice before" and I laugh myself silly...but she claims she never said it. I guess it's just my brain, once again, providing its own comedy relief, or maybe its just from the effects of thawing out.
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