My body and spirit felt so full the next morning that I smiled down every hill, cutting the fog in half and laughing into the coastline. I decided to stay almost explicitly on the street that day, not for anything other than the fact that it felt good. My camino wasn't about finding God, it was about me insider my body inside this planet. The street and trail were so intertwined that i want OFF trail for much, but it didn't bother me anyway. Day 4 let me hug the coast and find another small beach to enjoy my lunch. The sand was black and beautiful and I had the whole beach to myself. It felt so free. The last section of the route for that day would take me inland, so I tried to embrace the view of the water as much as I could. I kept going at a leisurely pace, aware of the fact that the previous 2 days had cut my mileage substantially. Regardless though of my pace, the route was largely downhill.
I covered about 70km by my late lunch, so I took my time and eventually decided to keep going. The trail markers disappeared for a while, but I knew the general route by way of a few towns. On the way to the hostel, I met a man from England who pushed 4 carts along, carrying everything he owned. I asked him for directions and we talked for a bit. I told him I'd check out the next town and wished him luck. Upon arrival, the massive sign that said Albergue, was not in fact, an actual Albergue. It was a hotel that costs 6x what a standard pilgrims hostel costs. GOOD. BYE. I asked where the next actual Albergue was, and they said Trabada, 11km away. That was a bummer because I was getting tired, but I had time so it wasn't too big of a problem. On the way back out, I saw the English man again and asked if he wanted to each lunch. I gathered that the carts were his home, and that he probably spent most days by himself, which he affirmed. He told me about his childhood and his time as a cobbler and a violinist. He moved to the northern part of Spain about 8 years ago and has wandered with his carts ever since. He was kind and shared his bread with me. Holy wow, what a mangled communion. It was beautiful.
Sadly, the route to Trabada was mountainous and not quite as gracious as the day before. But I was motivated and starting to get tired. Eventually, I made it to Trabada and asked some of the locals where the Albergue was. I had just entered Galacia and left Asturia, which were very distinct states. Many people in Galacia don't speak Spanish, I think it's technically basque? But I can't remember. But the funny thing was that the men at the bar had a Spanish vocabulary on par with mine, which in some ways, made communicating easier. Trabada is super small so they were excited to see a pilgrim. One of the men at the bar spoke sufficient English, and offered to call the hostel for me, since the owner was a good friend of his. I was surprised to hear perfect English on the other side of the phone, but it turns out the owner had spent a year in the states (in Arkansas, woof) learning English. He was super excited and hospitable and offered to meet me on the road to show me the Albergue since it had only been open a month. So damn generous. I thanked the men at the bar and started towards the meeting point.
Jose met me just as he said he would, his face covered with a massive smile. I was tired so i slogged down the road, following his car at a distance. He waited for me and explained to his neighbor that I was the first biking pilgrim that came to stay with him. When we rolled up, I ran out of words. The hostel was perfect! Jose explained that he has deeply loved the camino for many years, and that it was his dream to open an Albergue, because he LOVES the spirit of the Camino. I thought that was so cool! A few years ago, he'd purchased the house and slowly started transforming the remnants of a dilapidated farm into the perfect hostel, embodying the spirit of the pilgrimage. He also had a dog, so I was totally sold.
We chatted for a while about America and I reveled in his hospitality. There is this deep hospitality that undergirds the whole camino and when you find someone who loves it so deeply, it almost resets your hope for the world. I stored my bike and walked inside to find a really cool, rustic, studio-style accommodation.
There were 5 of us staying the night, most of whom were napping or adjusting their packs. I got my stuff sorted and sat outside for a while. There was a gay couple from France and another Spanish couple who lived in Ireland. Everyone was kind and seemed to run about the same temperature, which made us all pretty compatible personality wise. I sat outside for a bit and one of the guys for France joined me. He said his English was poor, so I offered Spanish, and we managed pretty well! I definitely wasn't at the same level I'd been in high school, but I was nearly conversational, and that was good enough. We slowly meandered through our conversation, stopping for clarity and for rest. Eventually, Jose joined us and offered us some wine. The couple from Spain joined us, as did the other guy from France. We just enjoyed each other's company and everyone graciously checked in with me to make sure I was included in the conversation. Everyone was just nice and easy going. I had the sense that I would either become like these travelers, or be friends with them in some capacity. At some point the first French guy said, "you know, the camino is hard on your body, but it is good on your hope." And I LOVED that. I think he's right. The trip is beautiful and it wears on you. But then you talk to a farmer along he way who tells you that he learned a little English so he could help pilgrims who walked by his farm, or you walk between a herd of cattle, or you meet a man who is so filled with life and love that he bought an old ranch house and turned it into a pilgrims shelter. It is good for your hope.
The night we all ended up in Trabada happened to also be the night of a fire festival. I can't remember the name of it, but essentially, every town or village lights a massive bonfire to ward off evil spirits, and throws a party. Traditionally, it's good luck to jump over the fire on the first night of the festival. Jose told us all of this and explained that it would be his pleasure to take us as his guests. He drove us in sections up to the village, and we all met in the bar before walking over. The French guys bought a drink for everyone, explaining that every time they section hike the camino, they bring a small thing of "boat money", or community money. Just cash that they have on hand to share if the occasion presents itself. I LOVE that idea and told them I'd take it home with me.
After we finished our drinks, Jose took us over to the plaza where the bonfire roared on. Everyone in the village was there and several people were dancing. Jose introduced as his pilgrim guests and though initially skeptical, the locals quickly became our champions for the night and offered us some of the grilled anchovies that traditionally complemented the festival. It was beautiful and infinite and such a good reminder of the things I think are most important in life. It made me a wee bit homesick for my nashville tribe, but mostly, it made me so grateful to the camino and for the people I'd met along the way.
The night wore on and eventually, we made our way back to the Albergue with full stomachs and full hearts. For a brief night, we were a tight little band and it was beautiful. The next morning, Jose prepared a family style breakfast for us and we all ate together. It felt like family. He told us that earlier the day before, he had no pilgrims lined up to stay with him, which was disappointing. But then, in the late afternoon, his friends at the bar had called him about 2 pilgrims who needed beds. About 10 minutes after he'd gotten the first couple settle in, the guys at the bar called again and said there were 2 more! He was so excited! Then I rolled in about 30 minutes later. From 0 to 5 pilgrims in under an hour! And we were all compatible, which made it even better. It did feel like there was something special about all of it. The day was starting though, so we cleaned up breakfast and said our goodbyes and best wishes and started onward. Jose told me that on the bike, I could expect 2 grizzly mountains but after that, I could coast for as long as the eye could see. I said thanks for the good word and set off again. Hallelujah, what a wild journey.
