Day 19 – El Burgo Raneros to Arcahueja

BEDBUG Alert: Reported at Guacelmo Albergue in Rabanal del Camino and/or Miriam’s Albergue in Las Herrarias/Herreria Albergue near Acebo. STEER CLEAR.

The smelly-Spaniard will wake up surrounded by aromatic-Lavendar wanky-hankies as well as strategically placed daubs on the bed frame and at the foot of his bed. He was one of the few to air his towel out indoors as opposed to outdoors. I think that accounted for much of his lingering, musty aroma. Sunlight is the greatest disinfectant, a lesson our friend has yet to learn.

I left the Albergue at 0530 and arrived at destination at 1245 after a 45 minute and a 60 minute break – I was in no hurry as the crib in Arcahueja opened its doors at 1300 and I was going nowhere once I arrived.

My first lesson of the day was at about 0545. Darwinism categorically doesn’t work. DOES NOT. Disappointingly. I came across group of five middle-aged Italians who were walking across the entire left side of the road, in the pitch dark, with no reflective clothing and one head torch that had a beam as powerful as a dying fairy light. I heard their jibber-jabber ahead of me, rather than saw them. That bad. There was a path to their left (on which I strode with my conspicuous friend, Mr L.E.D. Petzl…) but before the path, there was a three foot deep ditch between road and path. The Eyeties were to all intents and purposes BLIND and almost INVISIBLE to oncoming traffic. Cars were few but they came at pace – driving in that third-world, cavalier/oblivious way, not anticipating dumb, ambulatory flesh strewn across the highway in the dark. At least these window-licking, knuckle-dragging pedestrians were on more towards left side of the road – so they could tumble into the ditch and snap their necks if they had to move quickly…. What possesses adults to do things they would vilify their children for doing? I remain baffled. Incidentally, I haven’t seen them, but then again, I heard no sirens…..

The landscape changed today. More green vegetation, less scrub. A lot of corn and sprinklers, but still a straight shot paralleling the main road. I hiked alone the entire time, though I did see some familiar faces. Most of my comrades are bound for the big city, Léon. I chose a different approach.

It was another 31km today. A strategic decision. Léon would have been easy but I’m berthed about 8km outside, and it will be my next stop tomorrow. I did this so I would have a short day today, a very much shorter day tomorrow, so I can avoid what seems like a large influx into the City today and can enjoy Léon and rest my legs for what will be another two or three 30-35km days to harvest yet more time in Finisterre. If I do this, I’ll arrive at Santiago on the 17th, do the Compostela bells and smells blessing thing on that or the next day day (rude not to, despite not being of the Feinan dogma), then have a further 4 days of walking to Finisterre and Muxia.  That hopefully gives me 2 days of downtime in either location or a reversal to Santiago. That’s the plan as it stands.

As I near Santiago (still a very long way off), I’ve been told that accommodation becomes more scarce because the aged, the wealthy, the pretentious, the pikers and the frauds all come and “do” the last 100km so they qualify for the blessing. “Doing” means getting someone to carry your pack, serial pre-booking of accommodation and arranging a sumptuous meal while the subject plods along the Camino and gets his Platinum Card out afterwards. Shame on you!!  Money cant buy class, happiness or good taste, but it can buy convenience.

My strategy so far, has been to go to the Albergue that is either above the lowest price point or is furthest out of town, so that the more slothful (or youthful and of more limited means) default to the easier/cheaper options. Viz yesterday, it seemed like half of Tokyo was sitting in the gutter at the very first Albergue off the Camino. They all barely had facial hair and an Adam’s Apple. Is judgment inversely related to age? Let’s see at the end of this. I wont pre-judge as I may fall flat on my face…

This whole preamble is a coy precursor to say that I am contemplating a couple of pre-emptive, strategic bookings to assure my creature comforts towards the conclusion of this hike. No need to act now, just thinking. No need for you to judge now either…

Lastly, I am currently sitting in as a cultural and intellectual minority within a little Lithuanian enclave in our rather peculiar Albergue. I’ve spent much of the afternoon discussing BF Skinner, Thorndike, Amos Tversky, Daniel Kahneman, cognitive/behavioral psychology, MK Ultra, compliance and persuasion techniques through aggressive body language and other tools.  I’m completely out of my depth with these 25-30 year olds who have a much more diverse education than myself (and most people I know in the City/Wall Street, for that matter). The Lithuanians have by far the best English vocabulary and most neutral accents of any of the Europeans I have come across. Once again, humbling.

They also regret sacrificing their domestic currency for the €uro. Smarter yet, but bullied/Shanghai’d by the Bosch and Les Hexagones, so damage done. I maintain the view that Europe is still teetering on the brink of collapse, it’s just very well-concealed by an inner-cadre of unelected, self-interested Apparatchika and acolytes. Come on, Mr Erdogan, rescind your immigration agreement and let’s see what happens to the faux show of this love-in. Tick tock.

Later.

Day 19 Photo Gallery