Now If I Just Had a Book

October 17
O Abrigadoiro is definitely not a typical municipal albergue.

Although the dorm room looks like the average dorm room, there are real sheets on the beds, and blankets.

And it is gloriously heated.  The showers are private and have refreshing, continuously running hot water. 

There are two common areas...

...but everyone hangs out in the bar.  A wood-burning stove cheerfully makes the room cozy as it continues to rain outside. 

Our hostelier hangs a line in front of the stove for us to dry clothes.  And, of course, we use the trick we learned in Roncesvalles of stuffing our shoes with newspaper (also provided by our hostelier) to dry them out.  This is only the second time the insides of my boots have gotten wet.  Both times it was because persistent rain soaked my pants and socks, which wicked the water into my boots.

While we're sitting in the bar, drinking hot drinks and journaling and blogging, several people stop in.  Some stay, some move on.  Since the Spanish is rapid and beyond my vocabulary, I'm not sure why those who leave do so.  Doesn't matter to me.  Our small group fits at one table for the family-style dinner.

The albergue portion of the building is entered through a door at the back of the bar.  From the side behind the bar, the kitchen of the owner's house is visible.  We spot two resident cats.  Our hostelier feeds them and pets them and talks to them.  Yet he insists they are not his.  However, he also says that no one else in the village claims to own them, either.

The dorm room is warm, the bed is comfortable, but my dumb feet keep disturbing my sleep.  Ibuprofen helps but I wonder if they will ever stop hurting.  Okay, so they really aren't dumb.  It could be argued that what I'm putting them through is abuse; and they have managed to carry me all this way.  Still, I wish I knew what to do to ease what aches them.  I would think that they would feel better when not stuffed in boots, walking over all kinds of terrain.  Maybe it's just that I can only feel the aches when my body is at rest, or trying to rest, anyway.  I suppose when this is over, they will eventually recover.  Until then, though, I must ask them to bear me forward a few more days.