I did not sleep
well. Pat said it was because we were at the busiest corner of Palas De Rei. All night there was a Camino of cars, trucks
and motorcycles rumbling through the main city street, down the hill and around
the corner past our Abergue. The roar of
their engines reverberated through the open windows of our room on the third
floor. For me, it was like spending the night on the berm of I-75.
We were on the
trail by 7:15am, headed for the town of Melide
It wasn't as dark as prior days, as a full moon helped light our way. With the morning rush out of town, the trail
was loaded with pilgrims. At times I
counted three dozen in my sight. After a
couple hours of easy walking we stopped at a trail side coffee bar for our
morning break. The coffee americano was strong and hot. When we departed the cafe, Pat and I pulled ahead
of Mike. We each walk different speeds,
at different times, so this was not atypical.
The unsaid rule is at some point, the person ahead will stop and wait
for the others to catch up. As we
walked, Pat and I passed a picturesque village church where groups of pilgrims were congregated
outside. We decided to stop and entered
the small church where a priest was stamping credencial del peregrinos. The priest stamped our credentials and I took
a few pictures and we moved on. When we
reached the 55.5 km point monument Pat and I stopped for another photo. This marked the half way point of our Camino.
Pat and I
reached Melide, our destination for the day just after noon. Mike was nowhere in sight. After thinking about it, we deduced that Mike
thought he was behind us and expected us to stop and wait for him at a point
along the way. However, because we
stopped at the village church, Mike was actually in front of us. As we walked through the streets of Melide
searching for Mike, out of a shop walked Michael, Maria and Pablo. We hadn't seen them for a few days and because of our itinerary, we were surprised to see them again. Michael was distinctively dressed in a non
matching patterned shirt and shorts accented with bright orange knee
socks. A slender man with a beard, he appeared today as if he was a left over from the 1960's. Michael smiled when I told him that he would
win the contest for most stylish pilgrim on the Camino. We explained to Pablo that Mike was AOL and he
said they would watch for him. After
snapping some photos, we said our goodbyes.
 |
| Pablo, Pat & Michael |
How are we going
to find Mike, Pat and I pondered? Pat decided to phone him and dug into his
mochilla for his phone and Mike's cell number. Mike answered directly when Pat asked, "Where
are you?" "I'm in Melide with
Pablo, Michael and Marie, he replied. As
I looked up the street, I could see Michael standing a couple blocks
ahead. Pat and I joined the group and
had an encore goodbye with the mother, father and son from Seville.
We checked in
early at the albergue O' Palpador, where we were the newest occupants of the room
on the second floor. The room contained
twelve beds in an area about the size of the family room at home. We were happy, as each of us had our pick of
bottom bunks. After getting situated,
we returned to the city center in search of a cafe for lunch. It was an extended lunch at a
sidewalk cafe. I ordered a large salad and
paired it with two bottles of Estrella Galicia.
The cool breeze was relaxing as we sat watching the world go by around
us.
When we
returned to the Albergue a number of beds were now occupied. On the bunk above mine, I noticed a plastic
mask with tubing extending from it. I
hoped it didn't mean I was to be sleeping to sounds of an iron lung. Our room mates included some young Italians,
including three college aged girls. The cute
Itialan girl in the bunk above Pat shared that she was on the Camino in part
because of boyfriend issues and also from rejection to a college medical
program she had aspired for. As it ended
up, our quarters seemed like a coed college dorm room that included three old
guys; Pat, Mike and me.
We left the
Albergue seeking a restaurant for our evening meal. We stopped at a restaurant down the lane and
as we pondered whether or not to eat there, in walked Noni, whom we met on our
first morning in Sarria. We were surprised to see her, as most of the pilgrims
walking on our schedule had moved to towns further along. Noni accepted our dinner invite and we had a
nice time together. Noni is a young 75 year old and is a professional masseuse. She resides in Bondai Beach, just outside of
Sydney, Australia. It was a treat to
learn more about her and her travels. She's
especially fascinating to me, as she has travelled all over the world. A few years back she won an award as the
most active senior in Australia. In our
short time together we learned just a sliver about her. She has a blog and I hope to learn more. For dinner Noni and I had the octopus or
pulpa as it is known in Spain. It's a specialty of region and the town of
Melide. The pulpa was slightly greasy,
but well seasoned and flavorful. The taste
and texture reminded me of scallops.
We were all back
to the albergue sometime after 9pm and I took a quick shower. Shortly thereafter the youngsters returned and
by 10pm all twelve beds in our room were filled and it was lights out. I awoke abruptly sometime after 3am. The room
was dark and my bed was shaking like I was a part of the movie "The Exorcist." The metal bed frame was shuttering and the
bedsprings were making a loud creaking noise.
Momentarily, I concluded the man above me was having some kind of
episode, but it turned out, he was just debunking. He finished his climb down and the commotion
stopped. Laying there, I became aware that my stomach was quesy. I could hear the pulpa stirring within
me. As I wondered what to do next, I
listened to the sounds of continuous snoring in the background. They were low and guttural, with a peaceful
cadence and a certain harmony and rhythmic quality. As I listened closely, I determined that Mike in the bed in
front of me and Pat, in the bed behind me, were leading the chorus. Otherwise,
the room was quiet as a church mouse.
The bathroom
attached to our room contained two small porcelain sinks spaced about six
inches apart. Partition walls surrounded a single toilet and a shower area. Any sound in the bathroom could be clearly
heard in the sleeping room. I decided to
ignore the churning of my stomach and soon fell back asleep. Sometime later I awoke briefly to an Italian
voice murmuring through in darkness. It
was the young girl in the bunk above Pat, talking in her sleep. I conjectured that she was talking to her
boyfriend in her dreams. Who knows?
