Seminario Menor

October 20
Once inside the wall, one look at the building facing us has us second-guessing that we have reached the right place.

We enter through the open main door (note the shells)...

...and ask a girl coming down the broad staircase if this is the albergue and she affirms that it is.  Our pictures cannot begin to capture the seminary.  The grounds are gorgeous, the building regal.  The albergue occupies just one wing and yet is beyond spacious.  The rest of the building is still, at least, a functioning seminary.  It may serve other purposes as well--I cannot imagine there are enough students coming through anymore.  Another thing I'll have to check up on when I get home.

In the registration office, we are delighted to learn that we can stay for more than one night.  We do have to vacate the building during the hours that they clean and prepare for the next night, but we have plans for tomorrow anyway.  We also ask about transportation to the airport.  There is a bus but it doesn't start running until long after we will need to depart.  However, taxi service (a flat rate to the airport) is available that will pick us up right outside the gate.

Having settled some of our plans for the time before we leave, we plod up the magnificent wide marble staircase to find our beds.

 We first cross the common room (with vending machines!)...

...then pass by and through several large dormitories (one on each of three floors) with long rows of beds divided by a wall of lockers...

...arriving at a room that is nearly the farthest place from the front door.  The room contains eight beds, each beside its own locker.  We have no idea why we are in this cozy room instead of one of the wide-open, many-bed dorms, but we're not about to question it.  If your bed is against an interior wall or divider, the locker is more like a small closet.  Beds by the windows have more of a free-standing cabinet.  The lockers are big enough that Jerri and I can share one (they require coins to release the key).  The plastic packet of sheets contains a flat sheet as well as a fitted one--that's a first.  And there are blankets.  Oh, and there are no bunk beds here.

There are three separate rooms for sinks, showers, and toilets.  They are unremarkable except for how many there are--many more than any other place we've stayed.  The shower is the push-button kind and, much later when I use one, I can't get any hot water from mine.  I haven't taken any long showers on this entire trip, but this will be by far the shortest.  You can't have everything, I suppose.

The basement has a kitchen, laundry room, computers with Internet access, and more vending machines.  I don't personally see all of these, but we are informed they are there.

Considering this is supposedly the main city hostel, it isn't anywhere near full when we check in.  In fact, we are the first assigned to beds in the small room.  Maybe it's more important to secure a bed early during the high season, but I'm relieved that we're set.  Who knows how long it takes to get your certificate or visit the Cathedral?

The End Is in Sight

October 20
Although I've missed some of what went on during the night, I do have a vague recollection of another woman coming near our beds, and of more movement by the couple.  Again, Jerri enlightens me--that's (perhaps?) the leader of their group waking them to leave.  I have no idea what time it is but it seems to me that they must not have slept long.  We are up and about around 6:30-ish and they are already gone.

Even though the walk from here to Santiago is relatively short (20.1 km), the guidebook informs us that, if we want to reach the Cathedral in time for the pilgrim Mass at noon, we have to leave early.  This would mean at least a couple of hours walking in the dark.  Spain is at the farthest edge of its time zone; the farther west we've walked, the later sunrise has come.  We don't do dark.  Good thing the Mass isn't one of our "have-to's."

It's really good that getting to Santiago by noon is not important to us because we get a late start.  The bar we eat desayuno at has WiFi that I can actually connect to and I'm able to send the ten or so posts sitting in my outbox.  It does take a long time, but we'd rather send them while we can.

A note about the bar.  I neglect to write down the name (it's usually on the sello but this one is not)--it alludes to Ireland.  The proprietor is wearing a T-shirt that says "I (shamrock) craic."  I'm dying to ask him if he has an Irish background and, if not, does he know what "craic" means.  I decide it's too personal, though, particularly since he doesn't seem especially chatty.

Today begins much the same as yesterday.  Outside Arca, we are back in eucalyptus forests, foggy and cool, while the sun teases me from time to time through all-too-short gaps.  The fog burns off eventually and we have "sun-kissed" sections that I revel in.  Coming out of the woods, we walk around the Santiago airport.  Somewhere, on a stretch paralleling the road, we come across a pillar announcing Santiago.  We actually have to wait for our turn to take a photo with it.

Then we begin the "long slog" (Brierley's words) up to Monte del Gozo, Mount Joy, so called because medieval pilgrims could see the spires of the Cathedral from here and were overjoyed that their journey was almost over.

Monte del Gozo could almost be a side trip.  The tiny medieval capilla de San Marcos (chapel of San Marcos) is--say it with me--closed.  The chapel is not the only thing to see here, though.  From Monte del Gozo we do get our first glimpse of Santiago de Compostela.  It looks so much more sprawling than I expected and I can't pick out the Cathedral.  Perhaps it is not in my line of sight.

We climb a small rise to a monument, which we mistakenly assume to be to pilgrims but actually commemorates a visit by Pope John Paul II.  It's still an impressive monument--each side is worth spending at least a moment looking at--and many people are lingering here.

The peak, "reshaped by the bulldozer," is also home to a 160-acre, 500-bed Xunta complex.  Yes, complex--it has its own plaza.  There are the dorms, plus campgrounds, recreational buildings, an outdoor concert venue, a pool, a restaurant, canteen, bar, gift shop, gardens, and more.  We briefly entertain the idea of checking it out.  So briefly that we don't even break stride.

We stop for lunch at a bar when we actually enter the city environs, possibly a suburb of Santiago--we're not sure since we have not passed a sign (that "Santiago" pillar was so misleading; little do we know how many more kilometers we will walk before arriving).  We want to check the guidebook to make sure we haven't missed an ancient chapel we're interested in seeing, and to choose an albergue.  I show the map in our book to several people, who point out where we are on the map and assure us we have not passed the chapel, and in fact are very close.  After lunch, back on the sidewalk, I have to stifle a "d'oh!"  The chapel is practically next door to where we just ate.  I wouldn't blame the people in the bar for thinking "dumb Americans."  Our luck with churches continues:  it's closed.

According to our trusty (sometimes) guidebook, it's prudent to find accommodations for the night before heading for the old quarter and the Cathedral.  Since we hope to stay at the Seminario Menor, which is slightly off the pilgrim path, we try to find either a tourist information office or a pilgrim office for directions or a map, or even to find out if it's already full.  A friendly dancing starfish (I have to take his photo because he reminds me of Patrick Star from SpongeBob SquarePants; we later learn he's the tourism symbol for the area)...

...is along the sidewalk near a tourism office, which is--I am so tired of writing this--closed.  We plow on through the outskirts of the city into the city proper until we find a signpost pointing the way off the marked Camino to the seminary.  After that, unfortunately, we're pretty much on our own.  Brierley's map of Santiago is primarily the old quarter and very few of the surrounding streets are labeled, if they are represented at all.  We have to ask for directions multiple times, but at last we find the seminary.

I feel so relieved...until we pass through the gates of the stone wall surrounding it.

Santiago Eve

October 19
The Xunta here...

...has an interesting feature--a light on the wall for each bed.  In the shower room, although the stalls have no doors, there are two half-walls opposite each other separating the shower from the tiny ante room, so there is a modicum of privacy.  Otherwise, there's nothing extraordinary about it.  However, it's unfair of me to say that, because I don't see any other part of it except the dorm room.  Jerri does our laundry (so we'll have a pack full of clean clothes for the last leg and trip home) while I blog, so she sees more of the place than I do.

We do visit the local church to see if there is an evening Mass.  Hurray!  It's open.  Inside, three men are in the middle of a prayer service, so we sit in the back pew and look around the church.  The wall behind the altar is a beautiful scallop shell and there are ears of corn in the altar arrangements (discovered by Jerri's very observant eyes).

After their service, Jerri and I walk around the church and stamp our credencials.  With this one, we've managed to get six sellos today.  Guess I worried for nothing...as is usually true.  :-p

Back in the dorm room, we spend our time in the usual way.  There is an outlet at the foot of my bed, so I'm able to draft quite a few posts to send later.  Before long, we hear rain splattering against the dormer windows behind our beds.  We forgo attending Mass.  As I see it, it's not a day of obligation and we did sit through a prayer service (even if we didn't understand it).  Surely God acknowledges that we visited Him, Mass or no.

In what seems like the middle of the night (but must be before 10 p.m.--the lights are still on), an Asian couple (I can't identify nationality because I do not know what language they're speaking) arrive.  They have the bunks above Jerri and me.  They whisper, yet make little attempt to move around quietly as they make their beds, shower, and prepare themselves for bed.  I know they made it in to the Xunta just under the wire because the lights go out shortly after they arrive.  The man turns on the light by his bed and it seems extremely bright in contrast to the deep darkness of the rest of the dorm.  I must be dozing off during their preparations, which seem to take a long time, because later Jerri tells me that one of the French women sleeping nearby scolds the man about the light and I have no recollection of that.  I have learned to routinely take ibuprofen for my feet before going to bed, and therefore, I have been sleeping more soundly.  Guess this is one of the nights when exhaustion trumps disturbances in the night.

Getting Close

October 19
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

Arzúa

October 18
In Arzúa, we check into the Xunta.

We've stopped for the day relatively early, so I do my laundry by hand but decide to use the dryer.  It's cool and damp and I'm doubtful about how well the clothes will dry.  Indeed, it turns out to be not a very good dryer.  After thirty minutes, the clothes are more than a bit damp. 

One nice thing about this albergue, in our opinion anyway, is that the dorm room ceiling is sloped.  The beds along the walls, therefore, have no upper bunk.  We have two of these beds.  (Check out the "sheets."  In a handful of other albergues there have been actual cloth sheets, but most of the time it's these, and we are responsible for making the bed for the night and then unmaking it and tossing the sheets in the morning.  I'm surprised and disgusted at how many people don't even do this simple thing before they leave.)  My bed is also conveniently located next to the radiator, so I drape my laundry over it to finish drying.

We head out to scout the immediate area and find a place with WiFi, to hopefully send more posts.  We find a church and note that it has a service at 7:00, then locate a nearby cafeteria that has delicious tapas ("Just like I make at home," says the owner), an outlet, and WiFi.  We park here until it's time to head to the church for Mass.

One thing about the churches here.  Most of them are very old, made of stone, and unheated.  The people come in their coats and hats and scarves and whatever else keeps them warm.  I'm in just one of my safari shirts, thin cargo pants, and flip-flops.  I freeze through the service, which makes it feel like it's lasting forever.  A group of Italian pilgrims is present to see one of their group concelebrate the Mass in Italian.  The girl from Texas is here, too.  After Mass, the priest invites any peregrinos to the front for a blessing.  Between him and the concelebrant, the blessing is conferred in Spanish, Italian, and English.  It's very moving because he goes around and places his hands on each of our heads in addition to the group blessing.  At the back of the church, before we leave, we get our sello and sign the register.

By the time we return from Mass to the Xunta, most of my clothes are dry.  I have to leave a shirt and pair of socks on a bit longer, but that's better than air-drying them off my pack tomorrow, when who knows what the weather might be.  Ibuprofen for my feet, but at least I'm cozy warm tonight.

Moving Along

October 18
Today our plan is to make it to Arzúa.  The elevation for the route fluctuates up and down slightly for most of the way.  At the end, we climb to Arzúa.  There are a few muddy sections but the path is surprisingly dry, considering how much it rained yesterday.  The trail is through a lot of forest, but we also walk on stretches of senda (established pathway) as we crisscross a highway we are paralleling.

As we pass through villages and towns, I'm surprised that there seem to be fewer churches along the way.  The ones we do encounter are closed.  We do, however, come across a neat little museum that is basically a house furnished in the old traditional way.  A small village dog joins us and follows us around for a bit before we exit her village.

Melide is rather large and we make several stops here.  First into a bar (we've found that bars often carry some basic sundries) to ask for cough drops or lozenges, as my throat has been bothering me all morning.  Since they don't have any, but we do get a sello, I buy an Aquarius (the Spanish version of Gatorade; either lemon or orange flavors).  Not too far away, I pop into a small store that has a bit of everything, and they do have something comparable to Ricola.  Following the Camino through Melide, we come to a church with a sign instructing us to go to the parochial church for a sello.  This church is a bit off the marked trail, but we eventually find it...locked.  We hover around the plaza, looking for perhaps a parish office or I-don't-know-what.  There is a tourist information office and we go in to inquire about the church.  Jerri says the woman is surprised that no one is there and stamps our credencials with her office sello.

Outside Melide, we are back on unimproved trail for a while until we hit Boente, where we stop for lunch.  After that we are on either senda or pavement into Arzúa.  Along the way, we bump into another face from the past, a girl from Texas who had been traveling with two guys from Indiana (she previously lived in Indiana).  She was such a perky thing when we first met her and is obviously moving laboriously now.  We ask what happened to her buddies.  She, too, has had some foot and other medical issues.  Since they have a deadline and she doesn't, they've gone on ahead.  Yep, everyone has a story.

Pilgrims II

October 17
Here are more photos of pilgrim statues and icons along our way.