Bl**dy sh*tey Tomtoms are perhaps not the best of devices for finding a route wide enough for a campervan alongside the Camino. I can only speak for the non-walking part of the party (me) but this is what I get up to when everyone else is walking.
I finally found this motorway and all was well with the world again.
Basically the day is like a few hours white knuckle session playing the school fête game with the wire and the beeper. Except that here the wire is a narrow country lane with high stone walls and the campervan is the thing that beeps. I nearly cried a lot today. Just when I thought I was well and truly stuck, a little old Spanish man in a checked shirt and wellies pointed me in a direction with walls just wide enough. He reassured me with “nada, nada, nada” (“it’s nothing, it’s nothing”) as we assessed a particularly tight bend together. And hallelujah a few more hair raising kilometres down the road this was awaiting me round a corner. The Camino speaks to everyone in strange ways.
The word on the walk is that a few days behind us the oldest pelegrino en route just now is a 91 year old from Hungary. And a little further behind him is a man with a donkey. And between the two of them is an old friend of the footballing hero, Pelé. All sorts. Right here there’s a 68 year old grandma, her son-in-law, 2 stroppy teenage offspring, and a 9 year old who really does run on Duracell. And a mum who wants to do the walk herself.
Last night’s stop for the campervan was in the garden/ field adjoining a refugio in a little hamlet called Ligonde. I would say field is more accurate because there were cows in it. Whilst awaiting the walkers several hours behind, I spoke to an American girl in tears with a strapped knee, whose parents had left her 5 miles back, a Dutch woman who had lost her best friend at 52 to cancer, and a German boy whose rucksack strap had burst (could fix that though). I also met a lovely old Spanish lady with a checked shirt and wellies and a hen in her kitchen.
At night Katie saw a film “all about Jesus and stuff, Mum”, there was a bit of talk about God or otherwise (otherwise for quite a few, but very much so for quite a few others), but most people were telling their tales of good and bad things that had happened to them along the way. It was nice to talk to them all. And we had some of the local honey liqueur.
Today it’s filling up with clean water, emptying the toilet, filling up with diesel, emptying the waste water, and filling the cupboards with food. And trying not to get stuck.