Saturday, May 12, 2012 7:35 AM
Day Seven
Striking, how fast the topography, flora, and fauna change here. Yesterday, and only yesterday, the path was lined with beautiful French blue wildflowers. Also saw a new kind of bird, predominantly vibrant yellow.
As I started, there was a group of noisy talkers behind me and three hikers in front. My choice, if I wanted silence, was to either hang back or pick up the pace and pass the others. I chose the latter. The first I passed was a man with a Brazilian flag on his pack, the second, a tall Asian girl who soon stopped for a break, the third a thirtyish man with a moustache and bushy sideburns. He was carrying the same pack I was, though of a different color. He had a slight limp, but stayed not far behind me after I passed him.
The countryside is now flatter and drier; no more rushing streams and rivers.
Ahead I saw three women. I caught up with them and as I passed they stopped. One was smiling broadly; she looked familiar but I couldn’t place her. She asked if I were from Texas. It was Barb, of the Canadian couple, who had had her boots stretched. I asked her where Mike was and she said she didn’t know, she had taken the bus to go ahead.
I met them when I talked with Dorothy, the Scottish girl. That day they left before I was through chatting with Dorothy, but I soon caught up with Barb who was staring into a bush, as I have often done. Like me, she was unable to see anything. I asked about the bird I had seen the first day. She said she didn’t know what it was, but said I should check with Mike, he was the expert birder. So I caught up with Mike and asked him. He said Barb was pulling my leg; she was the real bird expert.
When I saw her this morning, she said she had looked in her bird book but couldn’t find the bird I described.
I pushed on and arrived in Logrońo before noon; a short walk. Feet are feeling great.
As I entered the city I came upon two women, both about my age. One was no taller than 4´´10, the other about 5´´1. Each carried a pack almost as big as mine. I am so impressed by the women pilgrims I encounter on the Camino. It’s not as easy for them.
The people I pass are carrying full packs like me. The people who pass me are carrying small day packs; they send their baggage ahead by taxi each day. I had considered this and may have to do it, but they seem to be in a minority and I prefer to do it the old way. A matter of ego or pride perhaps, or maybe just a way of doing penance.
Almost bought a camera--the clerk had already formatted the disk I gave her--when mine started working again. It makes a funny noise, but I’ll try to keep using it. How many people really enjoy watching other people’s vacation pictures?
The Patient Camera Store Clerk with the Camera I Almost Bought
Had planned to take a rest day in Logrońo but will push on instead. Just too much forward momentum.
A friend of Susan’s had sent me a shell with prayer glued inside and asked me to leave it on the Camino with a lock of Susan’s hair, preferably at a shrine to St. Anthony. Today I went into a large church and saw a statue of St. Anthony. Susan was working on a paper about St. Anthony when she became too sick to write. So I tucked the shell and the lock way behind the base of the statue. Mission accomplished.
Un abrazo para todos,
John
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