Last night after I wrote the blog the village was hit with a huge thunderstorm which brought heavy rain. Obviously us two brave adventurous types managed to brave the downpour to walk to a local bar to get food.
The morning was dry but shrouded in mist. Apparently this is a regular occurrence for many pilgrims along the way but it was the first time I had experienced it. Views of the distant hills were obscured but it was a pleasant morning nonetheless and as we climbed out of the village. We were met with pockets of eerie solitude interspersed with moments of stunning clarity as the sun burnt through the enveloping cloud.
The trail had split as we left Tricastela and given the option of a hill or a flatter walk (plus 6km) we decided the hill was the way to go.
It was quite a steep climb (in sections) but once we crested the top it was a very pleasant downward path. I ended up walking with an American (ish) girl with bags on her feet (long story) and we passed the day chatting as we ambled toward Sarria.
In Sarria I met up with Randy, my walking buddy disappeared into the traffic looking for an albergue and Randy and I found a bed for the night.
It feels kind of like a wake up call hitting Sarria.. still a way to go but it’s definitely a sign that I’m an on the home straight. The day’s of being up a mountain 240km from anywhere are long gone and I’m heading toward the end of my walk. I kind of wish I could carry on.. Portugal is an option. It’s 250km to Porto airport and I’m counting every penny to see if I can squeeze another couple of weeks… Finisterre is also an option but it doesn’t quite hold the same appeal, I don’t know why not. Maybe it’s time I accept that the walk is coming to an end? Maybe I find a way to walk to Portugal.. it feels nice that Portugal would put me over 1000km but I still have a week to decide so for now it’s plod on and see what’s around the next corner.