Magical moments

Tuesday morning my bladder broke. No, this isn't TMI. The camel thing for water in my backpack bust at the seams as I went to refill it. I set out with an American so I could get an interview for my doc. We stopped at a little cafe so I could get a water bottle and a coffee for him. When I took out an apple to eat, the proprietor flew outside and told me this was a restaurant, not a picnic area. So, water for breakfast it was.

Soon after the interview, my walking partner left me in the dust. The walk was another one that was what I pictured when I envisioned the Camino - a nice path with a great view. And the towns were super cute and they actually brought us into town in nice ways. One even had a banjo player greeting us.

I took a break at the town my guidebook had as the stopping point. I had a nice chat with the fireman from Germany who is doing the Camino in his full fireman outfit to raise money for an organization that helps children with burn scars get restorative surgeries and other help. He is definitely a pilgrim everyone has heard of!

Most everyone I had been with in Astorga was planning on going to the next town. "It's just 6k more," they said. Given that it was just 1pm and there was rain in the forecast for the next day, I decided to walk on. Up a mountain. On a trail of annoying rocks. I just kept repeating to myself "at least you're not doing this in the rain." The view was stunning and there were so many gorgeous purple and yellow flowers, so that also got me through the hike.

I finally walked into Foncebadon, a tiny little village that seems to be entirely made up of albergues. It was quite cold and windy, so it looked like a ghost town. I tried to find my Russian friend who seemed quite set on stopping here, but she hadn't checked in anywhere. I stayed in a little hippie place. Mostly new faces, except the Irishman. I was glad to see him because we have a running joke and I wanted to buy him a beer and tell him a tale.

We had dinner at the albergue with 5 Germans (who coincidentally were all from Stuttgart but didn't know each other). Toward the end of the meal, that was mostly spoken in German, the Irishman turns and says "think this will be an early night." Then we started talking about songs and he busted out an Irish tune. I tried to get a German girl to sing because I could see in her eyes she had it in her. She resisted, so I busted out some Coacabana. A worker ran out to his car and got his fiddle. It was on, now. Another Irish tune was sung, then a Spanish number which prompted another worker to grab a drum and the Irishman to get a bunch of spoons to play. We had a half-hour concert, during which every one of us had an enormous grin on our faces.  Again, this was what I pictured on the Camino, people from various countries having a magical moment together.

I have only just over two more weeks here. Two more weeks of magical moments, I hope.