On our way out of Arzúa, we stop at the first open bar for breakfast. The proprietor is very distinctive in her skin-tight pants, very bright, very high-heeled shoes, and colorful clothes. Neither Jerri nor I can imagine wearing shoes like that for a job where you're on your feet all day. Yikes! Then again, she probably thinks we're nuts for subjecting our feet to a 790-km hike...
In this bar, we bump into a woman we recognize from our earlier start. She's American, 75, and very vocal. We do not remember having walked with her but she is definitely familiar. Maybe we stayed at the same albergue or ate at the same bar somewhere at some point. Anyway, she comes to our table to chit-chat and, addressing Jerri, says that she loves to see white-haired women on the trail. I know she means it to be a compliment. Still, I can't help wondering that some women might find her rude or presumptuous for being so forthright.
However, the most remarkable thing about this bar, within 50 km of Santiago, is that the proprietor does not have a sello. It's definitely a disappointment, especially since, in the back of my mind, I'm already worrying about getting those minimum two sellos for today. It's ridiculous to worry, I know. We'll definitely get one at whatever albergue we stay at, and most likely one each for lunch and dinner. Yet I wonder if it will look like we rode part of the way if all our sellos for the day are at the end. Silly, yes--obviously any lesson I'm supposed to take away from this experience won't be about needless worrying. (Sigh.)
Today will be a fairly short day for us, since at Arzúa we are already 3.1 km into the day's map. And there's no need to push ourselves, because the final map into Santiago is only 20.1 km. There are slight ups and downs in the elevation of our route, then a steep descent into Arca O Pino, the destination for the day.
A lot of the path is through woods today--foggy, dark, and cool. It would be perfect for summer hiking. But, in these days well into fall (which always start out cold, sometimes warming up in the afternoon), I'm thankful for the thin leather gloves I wear to prevent blisters from my hiking poles. I can't imagine how cold my hands would be (and Jerri's must be) without even this thin layer. The frustrating part is that I get glimpses now and then beyond the trees of the beautiful sunny day that it actually is. At the infrequent breaks in the trees, I yearn to bask in the warmth and light that shines on me. It feels like a comic joke that, back when we were walking in the blazing sun, we had no shade, and now that it's bordering on cold, the forest is a barrier between us and the sun. This barrier has also prevented some of the mud and puddles of water from drying, but for the most part the trail is dry.
We don't find a single open church along our route. We should be used to that, but it still is disappointing. For goodness' sake, some soul in a small village yesterday with an honor-system vegetable/snack stand even had a sello. I hope the folks at the pilgrim office in Santiago know how hard it is to find religious sellos.
In Arca, we find the local Xunta, and fairly easily, at it turns out. Although the albergue is down some steps and hidden behind other buildings, the so-recognizable pilgrim mouse is very visible at street level. Even though he may offend some pilgrims, he is useful.
(I will say, though, that every once in a while we come across some creepy drawings or 3D versions of him; we do not take photos of those.)
Total distance walked: 19.0 km
Cat count: 169
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