Kind Deeds and Pretty Things

The Meseta took more mentally than physically. Part of my spirit of the camino was left there. I arrived in Leon (pop. 130,000) late in the afternoon, worn and not really interested in exploring another city. Yet, after finding a dreary, inexpensive hostal I set out for a walk. Leon is a fine city with deep culture and beautiful architecture. It´s just that the villages, towns and cities are becoming a blur. 

Have I posted this before?

Yesterday it was a battle to get up and moving. I went back to the locutoria where the night before I was kicked out at closing hour. I had some business mail to attend to and a post to complete. Mid-morning I went out to Rocinante on the sidewalk and there some thoughtful soul had left a delicious sandwich of Spanish bar-b-que chicken with melted cheese on my pack pack. That was really nice and the deed gave me a needed lift.

It´s true.

I rode through the day to Astorga (pop. 12,000) and after some searching found the Alberque San Javier on the far side of town. Antonio informed me that they had just opened and that services were limited. At 4:30 in the afternoon I was the only guest peregrino - not that I would complain. I settled in solo in a bunk room for 12, took a shower and headed out to enjoy my sandwich and a diet Coke in the plaza by the cathedral.

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Getting back about 2 hours later, I found the tiniest back pack, in eggshell blue, and a pretty knit floppy sun hat with violets on a neighboring bunk. Soon after a young woman comes in and we introduce. This is Emily - just in from Dublin. Emily had arrived in Astorga via Madrid on a bus. Tomorrow (today) would be her first day on the camino, picking up where she had left off some years ago. Being a late hour, conversation was limited.

This morning Emily´s alarm went off at 6:30, which was great - we both had a big day ahead; her first re-starting the camino and I had the most elevation to catch for the entire trip so far. We chatted a bit, readied and headed out together.

With the sun rising over our shoulders, we strode the flats out of Astroga. We talked of travel, Morocco, her work as a successful artist in Dublin and family.

www.emilyrobynarcher.com 

I could have walked with Emily to the edge of the earth at Cabo Finisterre and fallen into the Atlantic. But all things - good and bad - come to an end. As the road opened, it was time for our separate caminos. As good-byes were forming, the thought crossed - a hug?

As a gentleman, a husband and a father, hands extended, we shook in friendship.

It was a delight to walk the camino with Emily, if only for little while.

Buen Camino, Emily