Day 30: Palas de Rei to Arzua.

There isn’t much to say about today other than it was the sunniest, hottest, and most humid day so far on the Camino. I’m not complaining as in the last thirty days, at least 26 have been cloudy, cool or cold and some semblance of rain. The walk again, included shady trees, many hamlets, cafes, and bars throughout the trail sprinkled with farms and the same animals I’ve been focused on, cows, sheep, dogs and cats.

The trail is also full of pilgrims and I’ve met a few more today, including a seminary student from Kentucky. He’s a young man of 24 or 25, and when asked why he decided to enter seminary to become a priest, he says he’s one of 8 children whose parents are tobacco farmers in Kentucky. He has two older siblings, the eldest 20 years older than he, both of whom are married and have 5 kids each and have their own small farms near his parents. He has a total of 16 nieces and nephews. He worked the farm growing up but didn’t like farming but wanted to see the world outside of his life in Kentucky and so he decided to become a priest. He has an older sister living in New York, who is a sister wanting to become a nun and he also has a sister living in Madrid who is already a nun. He grew up in an Irish family, and in the old days, the oldest female was to become a nun, but that was no longer an obligation. Not once did he say anything about learning or understanding god, Jesus, or anything else spiritual or religious. I thought this odd but many to him, the church offered a path to leave his small town Kentucky life as a farmer.

I told him about my experience in catholic school in 1st grade and how the nuns were sometimes mean; we laughed as he says, well remember, the eldest daughter in large catholic families were sometimes obliged to become nuns and well maybe they event too happy about it. I thanked him for giving his life to service. It’s a bold choice in this day and age.

I stop several times today to rest due to the heat and the 31kms of walking. At one stop, I run into Peter from Sweden. Peter is a big guy, about 5’10” and 250 lbs, with a goatee beard. He’s standing in front of me in line to order a drink and some food. He turns around and we look at each other and he says, “do I know you?” I respond, “yes, we met a couple of times, the last time was in León, remember?” And he says, “oh yeah with your brother in law, the aggressive one.” I laugh and he says let’s sit together.

I order a beer and a chicken empanada. I sit down, and the Ukrainian mother and daughter see me and ask if they can sit down at the adjoining table and then came Peter, to the table. Everyone re-introduces themselves and Peter asks the Ukrainians where they started. They tell him “Sarria” to which Peter responds, “well you are not on a true Camino you must start earlier.” They laugh it off but Peter is serious and it kind of ruins the mood.

There are people on the Camino, like Peter, that starting in Sarria is not serious enough and is not a true Camino. I’ve heard the chatter amongst pilgrims who have started in places like St. Jean Pied de Port, Pamplona, Burgos and León. I don’t fall into this category of pilgrims because there are so many extenuating circumstances in peoples lives and to me the Camino is for everyone and where you start, how many days you walk, and whether you take a taxi here doesn’t matter and is not worth the discussion. There are no rules to being a pilgrim. One doesn’t even need to walk the Camino. We are all pilgrims finding our way in this world.

Peter told us about a music game he was playing at the Albergues he stayed and there was a final game on Tuesday night in Santiago at 6pm. He shows us the game, calls over a German lady to the table and pairs me up with her to play the game against the Ukrainians. It actually turns out fun as the gist is to listen to a song listed on a card and guess what year, say before of after 1970, it debuted. Of course I won the game.

After leaving the bar, a few hours later, I enter Arzua. It’s a larger town than expected, known for its cheese, and the regional Pulpo (octopus) but not a lot of restaurants. I’m personally not a fan of Pulpo and consider it overrated but many people find it delicious. I later find a pizza place, which wasn’t half bad. It’s Spain not Italy but sometimes you go with your gut.

Please enjoy the pictures of the day:

Leaving Palas de Rei

Early morning trails

Sun rise hits an old chapel

Rock covered trail

A farm cat

The trail before entering Arzua

Arriving in Arzua