EL PORTUGUÉS – DAY 5 – MAY 20

We crossed over from Portugal to Spain today. The water taxi was “iffy.” Each boat holds only six people. One group left before us and were back shortly thereafter saying that their boat broke down. Once we finally got onto a boat, it was only about 10 seconds before the driver turned to the motor and started taking it apart, declaring that it needed a rest. The motor rested for about a minute. He started it up again, and we were off. It was only about a five-minute crossing. The arrow in the photo shows our launch point. Galiza (Spain) is the destination.

Dan engaged in conversation with a Swiss guy riding a German bike. I think he called it a Canyon.

A couple of photos from my short walk today.

I made it to mile 5.5 before I decided any further walking wasn’t going to happen. We were sitting having a snack, and although I was wearing three layers, and we were in direct sunlight, I felt chilled. Dan suggested I take a taxi for a distance and then just walk the last bit to our accommodation. I suggested I take a taxi the entire way, which was about 10 miles.

So, Dan asked a woman on the street in town where we could find a taxi or a bus. She offered to walk to the bus stop with us. On the way, we met a friend of hers, standing next to his car, and she asked if he would drive me.

He said sure, “20 euros.” Okay, fine. She rode with us. Once we got to the “supposed” accommodation, he said it was much further than he thought, and that it would be 30 euros. Okay, fine. However, I didn’t have change for a 20, and so I had to give him 40. He didn’t refuse.

There was no one home yet at the hostel/albergue, which was not terribly surprising because it was so much earlier (12:30 pm) than the usual check-in time of 3 pm. The woman called the proprietor and told her I was here. She said the proprietor told her that she was at the vet (I actually thought she said the proprietor WAS a vet) and would come by in about half an hour. I waited, and waited, and waited. I thought she must have gotten busy and that she might also be thinking she didn’t need to rush, because, after all, check-in time is check-in time.

I wasn’t alone at the little casita. I sat out in the garden where there were two dogs, two cats, chickens and a vociferous rooster, who regularly shocked me from my slumber as I relaxed in a lounge chair next to the little swimming pool in the garden. The sun felt so good as I lay there snoozing on and off.

At one point I woke and felt a bit peckish. Strange, I thought, I just ate a little while ago. I was shocked when I looked at my watch and saw that it was after 4 pm. What the!?! I finally realized, something is very wrong. No one is here, and my luggage hasn’t even shown up. I packed up my things and walked through the gate onto the little road outside, planning to knock on a random door and ask where Casa Carlota was located.

A car came up immediately. I flagged him to stop and asked him if he knew where Casa Carlota was located. “Casa Carlota? No… I know a Carlos.” Just as we were having this conversation, a little white car approached from the other direction. He said, let me pull over and ask this person if they know.

Believe it or not, it was Angela, the owner of Casa Carlota, who was driving down into town to meet with Dan who had just called her from the highway, near the Camino, asking if I had arrived. Of course, she told him I had not. She was wondering what happened to me because she showed up shortly after the phone call from the drivers earlier.

What are the chances that she would drive by at the very moment that I walked through the gate to leave and figure out where the heck I was? AND, how funny would it have been for the owner of this house to return home and find me sleeping by his pool?

Angela said she knows the guy who lives there, and said it was no big deal. In any event, I was happy to have avoided that encounter.

Casa Carlota is beautiful, especially because of the owner, Angela. She was so concerned about where I was, what happened and that I was okay.

As we were standing chatting at the spot where Dan was waiting. After we discussed how shocked we all were by this strange situation, Dan went across the highway to a little grocery store for supplies. As we waited for him to return, another hiker came up and asked where a place called “Camping” was located. Angela informed her it was still about 4 km down the road. The woman (Agnes from Hungary) was in obvious distress. Angela offered her a ride. So, we waited for Dan to return from the grocery store across the street. While we three were waiting in the car, Agnes, in true John Candy fashion from Planes, Trains and Automobiles, removed her shoes and socks and showed us the soles of her feet. The balls of her feet were one huge blister! (Sorry, no photo.) There is no way she should have been walking. Plus, she had really crappy tennis shoes and what looked like white, nylon socks. So, things weren’t going to get any better. I know I’m in poor shape right now, but at least my feet are fine. How do people not prepare for this possibility?

There are three other guests here at Casa Carlota: Samantha, a young woman from Massachusettes and a French couple, Michel and ?. They didn’t mix much.

Angela did our laundry and made us a lovely dinner of cabbage soup, roast chicken, potatoes, salad and a glass of wine. Only Samantha joined us for dinner. We are now safe and sound in our room, ready for sleep after another interesting day. Hope I’m feeling better tomorrow.

P.S. Angela called the woman whose friend drove me here and admonished her and the driver for charging me so much for the taxi. She said pilgrims are their livelihood, and he could have easily driven to a bar and gotten change. She said he took advantage of my kindness. Oh, well. What could I do? I wasn’t about to give him an argument. He must need the money.