Let's see, where were we?

From Portomarin, we send saludos and other appropriate greetings:
I had hoped to start with some fun and games about the feast of St John (I think I said St. James, and it´s important to keep ones saints all in their
proper festival), but as it turned out, the opening ceremonies were to start at 8:30, which means that they started just short of 9 p.m., then the politicians and TV personalities had to do their sthick, and so Carol and I looked at each other around 9:30 with that knowing glance that 26 years together brings, and we headed off to the refugio and bed. The thing didn´t really get rolling until after 11 p.m. and that´s way too late for our tired dogs. So, sorry folks, no great stories about fire crackers being sent into the crowd by little old ladies or such. We´ve done this festival in Barcelona in the past, and it is, indeed, a wild time. Oh well, maybe when we come back and do it by car.
Speaking of which, I got my first taste of my own personal snobbery on the Camino today when at the end of our 14 mile walk we were passed by a several groups of very cheerful, spirited, and very energetic walkers. We noticed that they had an array of various foot wear, and all carried incredibly small packs. When we crossed the bridge coming into town we saw all of them getting into a bus. They had walked about five miles and were being bused to the next place where they would again cheerfully, energetically and with full spirit walk their next five miles.
So I didn´t like my reaction. I just kind of shook my head at the thought of that kind of Camino. As if I had the true answer, which as my children will happily attest, I haven´t a clue. It´s just that the Camino is bombarded now with people doing as little as possible and doing it only for the compestela, like it some kind of badge. I heard that the Bush girl was much the same, and what´s this, there´s a story that Janet Jackson is doing the Camino this year? I wonder what she´ll flash for her fans? Anyway, my Camino is not any better than anybody else’s, and I have no right to question other´s motives, it´s just that being really tired and knowing how the bonds of personal closeness with the other pilgrims has brought us together on this Camino, it´s funny to see people looking for quick and easy answers. Yes, I know that there are lots of people who can´t take a month to do this, but we´ve run into many people who come back year after year, doing what they can each year and picking up where they left off the next year, and that has credibility for me. Well, enough of this whining.
For us, it´s another day down and another day closer. We’re forced into a tight spot of confidence without being cocky. We know that we´re close now, four days and 58 miles away from our goal, but disaster is only a turned ankle, or a bicyclist running us down (those terrorists of the Camino who come flying up silently behind you and scream by at breakneck speeds) from having our Camino end prematurely. So we´re close, but still we take it only a day at a time. Tomorrow is the goal, not Santiago.
We are in good physical condition, but it seems that everyday is a new challenge. My back is great now. Don´t know what happened that one day, but I started to get a new blister today and had to get some immediate and quick repairs from my nurse who is always close at hand. Carol´s toe is pain free, but today she had spasms in her shoulders which made it harder. So the body just kind of moves from troubled spot to troubled spot. That´s why confidence is high, but we know better than to be cocky.
As we continue the road seems to improve. We think (read hope) that as we get closer and the road is done by more and more people that the path improves. Today was wide, smooth, and flat. Well, flat from side to side of the road. We went up and down, then down and back up. But still a successful and pleasant day.
Being in Galicia as we are means that we´re really into an entirely different region. Different language, entirely different crops, music (bagpipes, Celtic harp, and the like) and architectural styles.
When we were in Navarraa, at the start of the trip, we were in Basque country. Everything was so clean and well kept. The Basques have been quite prosperous and their houses of stucco always painted white with red trim on windows and eaves were bright and cheerful. On the meseta it was entirely different. There prosperity seems to have deserted the area and the houses were made of adobe - plain, colorless, and basically pretty shabby. You could tell that life was a lot more difficult for the residents of the rocky, arid plain.
Now in Galicia we´ve hit the slate roofs and stone building area. They are beautiful houses and sturdy. The crops and land indicate an area where people live much better and are better off financially.
But no matter what the area, the Spaniards love their flowers. No matter how poor the people, they have managed to have some color in front. If they could afford clay pots they always line each side of the doorway, and the ever present balconies are adorned with flowers. If clay pots are not available, they use 5 gallon, excuse me 20 liter, plastic cans with the tops cut off for their flowers. Walking through the humble villages is no different from the classic cities of Spain; you are continually brightened by color. And they are so proud of them. Compliment them on their flowers and the biggest, brightest smile comes out and they´ll talk to you about them at length.
Throughout the Camino, we pass through these small villages. And in the depressed area Carol and I have felt that the pilgrims are really good business for the towns. Thousands of people coming through in a given year, stopping at the bars for cafe con leche, a beer, wine, sodas, sandwiches, lunches and the shops infuses these towns with an income which would otherwise be missing and gives a better life to many of the residents in them.
Met a French woman walking with her father today. They started in Paris four years ago and have come back each year to do the next stage. There´s Petra who started in Southern Germany, a Dutch fireman walking from Holland, and many others doing what makes our Camino seem like those that I groused about earlier in this letter. Then there´s the man who when he gets to Santiago leaves on foot for Jerusalem, now that´s a walk!!! There are people who have done this whole camno 3,4,5 times. It has that kind of magic about it.
Carol mentioned today that losing our Camino family along the way is kind of like watching your kids grow up and then they leave home. It´s okay, it´s just different. We miss them and the community those evenings brought. However, it´s easier because instead of pushing to where everybody is going, we can set our own pace. We hoteled it the other night since there was nobody in the refugio that we knew or with whom we had any connection. There are always smiles around at the end of the day, but everybody that we talk to now has had the same experience. The French woman said that it´s so different for her this year since she doesn´t know anybody, and she was so close to her "Camino family" last year.
I´m sitting in a bar looking out at these incredible Galicia clouds. They are so dramatic! Huge bilious cumulous things which just so dominate the entire landscape. They say the weather here is much like England´s. The rain has continued to hold off for us. Got to the point today when I "garbage canned" my backpack with the black hefty bag I carry. Carol took out her poncho and was ready at a moment´s notice to get into the sauna that wrapping herself in the poncho brings. Hot and sweaty underneath and wet and cold outside. Well, you get the picture. But the drizzle never amounted to anything more than that and we got here around 1 p.m. after seven hours on the road. ´
We had a good lunch, I´ve got to eat more, every time I weigh myself at a pharmacy, I´ve lost more weight. 12 pounds and counting. Carol´s pissed, cause she weighs the same as when she left. It´s just a combination of the continual physical drain of calories from walking so much and the Spanish late dinners. Try to find a restaurant open before 8:30, I dare you. I´m in bed by nine, so dinner is light and catch as catch can. Thank god for all the wine I´m drinking or I´d have drifted away in the strong wind the other day.
Well, my computer clock is telling me that my time is three minutes and counting and so I´ll sign off for now. I´m not overly thrilled by the general tone of my letter today, seems picky and small minded in part. Oh well, just part of the overall balance of life, I suppose. I´ll try to be in a better place next time.
Hope all of you are well, we are. and we hope that all of you are in as good a place spiritually and emotionally as we are. Thinking well of each and every one, we remain,
Jim and Carol