We’ve arrived at a delightful albergue, Pension Arca, staffed by Miguel who presented us with two beers and took us to our suite on the first floor 😊.

It’s been an easy 24km on tarmac and forest trails. Admittedly we’ve been surrounded by large numbers of people walking, mostly from Sarria and many are cubs and scouts but we started earlier than usual and I think missed the usual crush.

Why did we start earlier? Thereupon hangs the tale of Dorothy and the unfortunate mosquito. Dorothy booked last night’s accommodation, she definitely got the right village but certainly it was the wrong albergue. The beds were four feet apart, small, appallingly sprung and as soon as lights were out a mozzy sprang into action, shooting past first one ear and then the other, the high zinging sound characteristic of mozzie frenzy. We both hid under our bed sheets but once Morpheus appears all bets are off. We woke at six o’clock this morning to the dulcet tones of an angry mozzie which Dorothy promptly killed. Dorothy has spent the day searching for mozzie bites but has found nothing. Clearly the poor chap that she killed was young and inexperienced, perhaps he wasn’t even a real mosquito. He was very small, perhaps he was even she 😢.

It looks like it’s taken both of us until now to get the hang of walking again and feet and in Dorothy’s case, hips , are in fine working order, so much so that today’s little trip was a walk in the proverbial park. Not so for others. We’ve seen lots of heavily bandaged knees and ankles. Lots of people are struggling, misusing walking sticks which seem to be fashion accessories rather than walking aids. One wonders why.

Following on our general theme

We stopped in Arzua for breakfast and in a small restaurant some 6km from here for lunch where we met an Australian lady who works for Kaplan and an Italian lad called Marco who has been forced to ditch his heavy walking boots for locally purchased trainers. His feet had become very badly blistered and he’s been forced to rest up for a couple of days while they recovered. It’s a Camino myth that one needs heavy walking boots to protect one’s ankles when in reality you simply need well padded trainers to cope with the incessant pounding on tarmac.

Like us Marco was a fan of Montalbano and Roco Schiavonne. Clearly we were of like minds.

Back to the pictures.

It’s 17:22 and there’s little left to say. It’s a very short 19km to Santiago tomorrow so all being well we should be in by lunch time. We’ll take the obligatory photo outside the cathedral, get our Compostela and then hang about the main road into Santiago watching people stream in. For many this will have been the hardest walk they’ve done whether it’s 112km from Sarria, 800km from St Jean Pied de Porte or 1,500km from Le Puy en Velay. Many earlier pilgrims, newly showered and rested, line the route encouraging them over the last few hundred metres. It’s very much a collegiate activity and emotions often run high. Going back to everyday lives after such an experience is an anti climax which probably explains why so many return year after year. I simply like walking 😊

Some final images

I await the onset of gout with some trepidation. Fingers crossed that allopurinol does its job.

Buen camino