Cheri and I are up early, and bolt out of our room at the albergue to find that our shoes are gone. We had left them in the courtyard to air out in the sun and forgot to bring them in when we went to bed. We both remain very calm and start searching the albergue. We know that another pilgrim most likely brought them in for us, to avoid the damp that night brings. Sure enough, we find them carefully placed inside, but we also find that some pilgrims had a pretty rowdy, drunken, rough night. The mess in the main albergue can't be described, other than absolutely disgusting, and 30 pilgrims had to sleep in a room with it. Cheri & I walk out thanking our blessings for only having the option for a private room. Our room was very clean. It passed our stringent battery of bed bug testing procedures with flying colors, and we found ourselves seduced by the clean fresh scent of the sheets and (this is practically unheard of in an albergue) the pillows. Cheri actually lost herself in a moment of unadulterated pillow sniffing bliss, but that's okay, because I just happened to have my camera handy! We walked away with no regret at all about the 25 euros we each spent.
We head out as quickly as we can without having breakfast, not so much a choice as the fact that there isn't breakfast to have. Today's walk starts with a solid14k straight down a gravel path next to the main roadway, and no breakfast or coffee stops along the way. The day is sunny and a little cool, once again perfect walking weather. We walk along for over an hour next to this major road without seeing a single soul, and then all of a sudden two cars pass by within five minutes of each other. Cheri says, "What is this, Spanish rush hour?" and just cracks me up! One thing you can count on in Spain prior to 10am, no matter what day of the week, is peace and solitude. The Spaniards are either not awake prior to 10, or else there's a law that says they can't come of their houses until then. We haven't figured out which it is.
We walk along for a couple of hours without coming to the cafe that our map shows, so we sit on a bench and eat some left over, slightly questionable food from our packs.
Malio and his friend stop as they pass by to see if they can now persuade us to go an additional 10k to the spot they have chosen to stay. We chat a bit but tell them that we are already booked in an albergue in the other town we selected. We take photos and say goodbyes knowing we could see them again tomorrow or never.
(The pilgrim relationship is something that requires study I think. We build such strong connections with other people quickly, this even occurs in spite of significant language barriers sometimes...I have many thoughts & observations for future ramblings)
After our 20 minute bench break, Cheri & I carry on about 500 yards around a bend to see the cafe that would have kept us from eating day old backpack scraps. We shrug our shoulders and smile at each other, then head straight into the cafe for breakfast number two.
Our final destination for today is another 12k away. Walking in the Meseta is much different from the first few weeks of the Camino. The path is straight for the most part, flat, and feels really long because you can see miles of the path ahead of you. Still, we have nothing to complain about if there's no rain. We did cheat a bit and, after nearly missing a bed last night, we booked two beds at an albergue. Cheri has been dealing with pretty severe leg pain, so we didn't know what to expect for time today. We wanted to be prepared.
While walking, we happen to pass the lovely German man who owns the super tasteful sleeping mask. He takes quite a liking to Cheri and begins to tease her on the path and not let her pass by. Then, to my complete surprise and astonishment, he begins to speak nearly perfect English to her and refers to me as "Miss Hawaii" Up to this point, I'd never heard him do anything other than snore, grunt, and speak German. When we had dinner at the albergue that night, everyone in our area could speak English but he would only speak German. Now all of a sudden he's fluent, jovial, and full of social desire. I have to admit that Cheri has this effect on people. As we walk away, I share the story with her about his sleeping mask....she just shivers and says, "Eeewwww!"
We pass by a field with two storks walking along eating yummy things from the ground. They are fairly close to us so we get some photos. It reminds me of the man with the dog & two storks, so I tell Cheri about it. With a perfectly straight face, and no further questioning, she calls me a liar and turns on her heel to start walking.
When we finally arrive at the albergue, who do we come face to face with? Malio, and his quiet friend, who I still haven't managed to get a name for. (I really should have just made something up by now. Vinny, that's what we'll call him!) So, Malio and Vinny are thrilled to see us, and are excited to ride the bus into Leon for some afternoon explorations. We however, are only interested in showers and some down time. So we say our goodbyes once more. After they leave Cheri decided that Malio is the spitting image of Dick van Dyke in Diagnosis Murder. She's absolutely right & from this point on I can't look at him without seeing Dick van Dyke and smiling a little.
Our albergue is lovely and rustic with a huge garden courtyard area. We have hot showers, laundry, wifi, dinner, a comfy bed, and Leon is a mere 15k away!
As if things could get any better, after dinner I log in to find a message from my Camino Ninjas. Marek, (King June One, the first) has recovered and is back with Fabby, Jenny, & Benedict. They are all doing very well now and are only a day behind me. Yes indeed, life is very good.
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