Today, and Tomorrow

Let’s start with yesterday: Lisa and I walked from Palas de Rei to Arzua, vía Melide, a town well known for its pulperías, or octopus restaurants. Pulpo Gallego is a popular dish throughout Spain. The octopus is boiled until firm but tender and then spiced with paprika and coarse salt and drizzled with olive oil. Served with a cold albariño wine, it really makes for a fine meal. I know that since Soul of an Octopus and My Octopus Teacher, some people have become very queasy about eating such an intelligent creature and prefer beef from dumb cows.

Melide is only halfway to Arzua and if we stopped to eat, pulpo or carne, it would have been a long day. And this was already going to be a 15+ mile day. So, at 2:30, we arrived hungry at the Alberge Santiago Apostal in Arzua and began a search for restaurants. We tried two recommended places, Casa Chelo and Casa Nene, but they told us it was “Impossible!” Other places were also full or closed on Sundays. However, as we went to our rooms for a shower and rest, we walked by a first class parilla, or grill, and the chef was throwing on ribs and veal steaks. Lisa and I looked at each other: “then here, said I, with a sudden cry, is our crematorium!”

Later we were feasting on churrasco, a variety of grilled meats and sausage, accompanied by our friend from Rioja, Ramon Bilbao. Pilgrims need their protein! And wine! After a not so good cafe con brandy, we figured we better make up for that with a round or two of orujo hierbas. After the long walk and the big meal and the digestifs, I did not feel the clarity of mind to write and post the days thoughts and events.

And that brings me to today. This is day 33 on the Camino. Tomorrow, Lisa and I march into Santiago. It will be a day of fulfillment, the end of a 500 mile journey over an ancient path along which have travelled the multitudes seeking revelation, repentance, release or, recently, recreation. In a very real sense, then, today is the last day on the Camino, the last time I check into a new hotel or albergue for the night; the last arrival beer and meeting up with other pilgrims to discuss the day; the last night of sleeping alone.

The Camino brought me to a lovely rural hotel for my final night. The room is comfortable with a clean bed and hot shower. Outside, I can hear traffic, but most of it is farm equipment, a bit noisy but so appropriate to the setting. And the hotel restaurant is one of those surprising finds where the food is finely prepared, proudly served, delicious to eat and with a great wine selection.

It will take a few months to assimilate this experience, but for now I reminisce: pastor Michael’s blessing in which he prayed to God to open doors for me, the long trip just to get to St. Jean Pied de Port, the beauty of the Pyrenees, the peaceful quiet of ancient stone chapels, the camaraderie of the caminantes, the dark early morning departures, Roca Rey, the solace of long lonely walks, the luthier’s workshop – and the luthier!; the sore feet – and the physiotherapist!; the alternative routes experienced by few; the Gallegos who allowed me to take their picture (and those who refused); today’s lunch; and so much more.

There are many things I wanted to talk about to give you a feel for the Camino which I either forgot or figured the day’s post was getting too long. Like how to figure where to stay or the the ins and outs of the Pilgrim’s menu. I did not play Wordle or do crossword puzzles or watch TV. I seldom checked the news (except to follow the war in Ukraine) or stock market or sports. I sang the same three songs out loud when I was walking alone. These are the topics of discussion over a beer sometime in the future. Sometime after I have walked into Santiago. Tomorrow.