I know I sound judgmental and I may not be considered a true pilgrim by some. But Ive done it in pain, I’ve done it with lots of wine. And now I’m doing it on my own again for some inexplicable reason. So when I had the pleasure of staying in the same albergue as the touring Korean Peregrinos I had an inkling of what I was in for. Remember the Korean national snoring champion of 2015 who almost succeeded in luring me to murder? Or the packing champions of Roncesvalles in 2016? Up at 4:30am rustling bags for two hours until I (and 200 others) could take no more? Well today again! – it started at 4.30am pronto! Banging doors, stomping up and down stairs and generally ensuring everyone within hearing distance was awake. Lo siento to my Korean friends who did not partake in this chaotic start to my day but wtf was going on?

I eventually gave up and headed out in the dark just after 6:30 but was pleased to see a couple a short distance ahead to guide my way. I eventually caught up to them to discover they were the leaders of the pack. They must’ve left Casa de Abuela only minutes before me! I soldiered on in the dark for a short while waiting for the sun to rise and a cafeteria to appear for my caffeine hit!

Then I looked back and on the horizon a team of musketeers appeared like a vision! More pilgrims! Remember I am the slowest pilgrim on the camino so they were bound to catch up with me.

There was a steeple on the horizon that seemed to indicate the next town was nearby. But it never seemed to get any closer. It should have been sansol and I had visions of stopping at the albergue for desayuno or breakfast.

Well it wasn’t long before the miracle of coffee appeared however it was from a small tienda (shop) that had string across the entry. The shop keeper clearly didnt want anyone playing with his fruit! Many of the shops in spain have a problem with people playing with their fruit. You can point and nod – but what ever you do not toca! Don’t touch the fruit! The string was really the problem for me. But I really wanted a coffee so I spent a grand total of 1.20 Euro and bought a coffee para llavar (to take away) and walked up the hill in search of the albergue breakfast. Alas I was disappointed as the door was closed and the people were gone!

Thankfully Torres del Rio is only 780metres (precisely apparently) from Sansol so I skulled the cafe con leche and headed down the hill and up again (of course!). There the musketeers from earlier sat eating their breakfasts. It was dark when they passed me initially with the mandatory buen caminos and querying whether they had ruined my photo. But it was here I discovered one was Mike an expat New Zealander from Brisbane (and a purveyor of Korean coat hangers), a true New Zealander (who didnt say fish and chups), Chad the American and Jo whom we had met in Saint Jean. They were all heading to Logrono so off they went. I was pretty happy with the photo!

I sat and enjoyed a really nice omelette sandwich (yes you read that right – bread bread and more bread) and another cafe con leche.

The track out of Torres of course went up a very big hill. No it was another goddamn mountain! Then it went down, then it went up, then it finally meandered down onto Viana.

I also met my first pilgrim from Siberia today! Her name was Natasha. Being an accomplished linguist I was able to converse with her for quite a while. I was most interested in knowing how she got to the camino. Simple it seems – she flew to Barcelona to visit her son and then caught a train to Pamplona. No night time border crossing with black marketeers or refugee flight through china. Nope. Simply flew to Moscow and then to Barcelona. Maybe not that simple but sounded easier than getting here from Brisvegas!!!

I had decided to stay in the municipal again at Viana where the 2018 experts had secured camas all in one room. Today I was early as I had been encouraged to leave Los Arcos before anyone else (except the ring leaders from the venue) and hence I had my pick of beds. (Every negative has a positive it seems.) I chose one of the beds we had in 2018 right near the french window so that I could control the ventilation. I could hear a man coughing disturbingly over the next room and was filled with fear thinking he might die in the night! (He didnt). Thankfully someone in that room opened a window completely and a beautiful breeze flowed through both rooms (bet you’ve never heard of a beautiful breeze in a municipal albergue before!)

So I set up my bunk, had a shower, stretched my legs, and headed outside to purchase a snack and a beverage from the nearby bar and tapped away at my blog.

Others also stretched their legs and utilised the open window to dry their clothes for the day.

Mrs Durham arrived just in time to partake in a cerveza out on the terrace behind the albergue and ruins. It was another nice memory of this area where we had also relaxed in 2018 with our Camino friends before farewelling another Natasha who headed back to Ireland the next day (not quite as cold as Siberia but it is up there for me !)

So we had a pilgrim menu in the back of the hotel and chatted with two Aussies from Melbourne before heading back to sleep for a restful night with hopefully no 4.30am risers!

Buenas Noches!