Yesterday we left Los Arcos in the semi-darkness of spitting rain and snow, with a serious headwind. A very gloomy start wasn't helped by the inscription at the entrance to a hilltop cemetery: you are what I once was and you will become what I am now. Sobering.
I crest the first hill going out of town and see turquoise gators, a black hat with a fitted rain cover, and a billowing rain cape. Oh crap, that's the Flagg character from a Stephen King novel, I think with a shiver. Nope, it's Cowboy.
Well dag nabbit, I am sick of this showdown at high noon business. Time to disarm him by befriending him. So I catch up and ask, how's it going Cowboy? (Turns out everyone on the trail thinks of him as such). Much later I would question my usual methodology of demystifying people I don't initially like by being nice and finding out their stories.
I believe in redemption at any point in people's lives by way of incremental moment by moment choices unless they are crazy or their minds are irretrievably harmed by alcohol or disease, so I will withhold judgment on this man but my hair stood on end at some of the things he had to say (he has wanted to blow the f-in heads off his now-deceased mother and his local MT bank folks for turning off his credit card, for example). Suffice it to say that his dearest friend told him she hopes not to see the black maw of death when she looks into his eyes by the time he has finished the Camino. Cowboy seems to have had a Saul/Paul transformation on this path so I wish him peace but I also would not be sad to stay one step ahead of him. Buen camino, Mr. Flagg. (The first pic)
Meanwhile Scott is having a lively conversation with a beautiful South African named Karla whose parents have made Dubai their home. His conversations with folks seem always to stay at a more cheerful tone :)
At breakfast, a women we met 10 days ago started to cry telling me of the disintegration of her 35 year marriage and she pointed around the room to 3 others in the process of divorce. People are carrying some heavy burdens.
Ah, but Logroño! We had tapas and wine for dinner. Anchovies wrapped around olives, blood sausage (morcilla), ceviche, calamari with tentacles, etc. 8 pieces and a bottle of wine, plus a baguette for 12 euros! Tan buena!
While we are at this bar, decorated with jack nicholson's crazy face from the Shining, a group of giggling women come in with sashes and drink cherry-colored shots. A bachelorette party! They ask us to take pictures of them and I look a little closer and see that each sash has a penis and scrotum sewn on: pito is what they call it. Sounds about right.
But we had not yet found the specialty of the region, pig's ear (orejitas). So we eat ice cream, Spanish licorice (regaliz), chopped almond cookies, and tour the cathedral as we continue to search. (The cathedral has a michaelangelo painting you must pay 50 cents to illuminate). Finally on the way home we see a bar selling pig's ears. A drunk man shows me magic card tricks while another drunk man takes Scott to the kitchen to show him how pig's ears are prepared. They gather to watch us eat the tapas and insist we have some wine. I bite into the soft fatty pale mass and chew. There are some harder bits and it is sticky on the teeth. Actually it tastes exactly what you might imagine an ear lobe and cartilage to taste. I prefer calamari.
The men are telling Scott the history of castellano (Spain's Spanish, the highest form), all in super fast Spanish while I have a lovely conversation in Spanish with the barista who is from Bolivia. She told me my Spanish was very good and that she was so relieved to be having a natural conversation with a pilgrim rather than "cervesa por favor!" She also told me that many spaniards have a lot of stress and she thinks Americans are more relaxed. Hmmm, not sure of this is true.
Phew, a very fun night out. The albergues was full so the unventilated room filled with the condensation of the breath from 50 people, so much so that moisture beaded on the walls and floors. So stuffy and hot in there and this is cool spring! They left some overhead lights on all night too so it was difficult to sleep. But it was a great day nevertheless. The last pic is the view from my bunk.
The second pic shows how far we have walked.
1 comment:
Errr...that black bra doesn't look like it's going to hold up much!
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