Cycling the Camino Portugues: Caldas de Reis to somewhere close to Santiago
Off early to avoid the heat. Cycled through tiny villages while the sun came up. Cockerels announced it was time for the late night Spaniards to open their shutters, but nobody budged. I passed many beautiful churches mourning the dead in the adjacent graveyards. A pealing church bell announced it was half past something.
After Pedron, the mule punctured. Unfortunately the pump delivered with the bike didn’t work so I had to push the stubborn mule back to Pedron to buy a pump.
I wanted to sleep close to Santiago but each place I passed was an auberge which meant dormitory style accommodation. It was hot and humid and as I had been cycling since 6am, I was starting to get ‘gatvol’.
I enquired at Restaurante Parrillada along the N-550. They only had a little house to rent – above my budget and on the busy road. I couldn’t push through to Santiago, as there was a festival taking place and I knew everything was full. So I swiped Mike’s credit card and settled into my little house on the busy road. There was nothing to do, so I fixed my punctured tube, hung out in the bar and lay on the couch channel hopping Spanish TV. The owner of the bar, told me his son (about 18 years old) likes ‘chicas’ and shoved a piece of freshly baked sweet something my way. He wasn’t exaggerating. The son invited me to the beach. When I pointed out to him: 1) There is no beach 2) I am married. 3) I am old enough to be his ‘madre’ 4) It’s raining.
He was not perturbed.
I decided to rather drink ‘vino tinto’ and play with the owner’s weird dogs.
Tonight the sound of passing cars and trucks will be my lullaby….
