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| This photo was taken under the bridge at A Ponte Maceira. This scenic village was lovely to walk through yesterday. |
I could not withdraw cash yesterday and remembered that I have a delay of 4 Business Days that is required before withdrawing from my Schwab Checking account after a fund transfer. I only keep about $500 in my Schwab account. So if I lose my ATM card the impact is minimal. Thursday morning, I realized I was down to only $15, so I initiated a fund transfer from my other bank account. It is Wednesday morning here, and I can still not get cash. Perhaps it is a problem with the ATM, not my card or checking account, so I start walking. I have found that some ATMs simply don't work (i.e., CaxiaBank), while others I have no problems with (i.e., BBVA). Even though I am down to my last 25 euros, there is a BBVA in Cee where I plan to stop in a few days. I shouldn't need a lot of cash until then, provided I can use my credit card.
Leaving Negreira, I pass under this beautiful Pazo do Cotón Medieval Gate. I am surprised when I encounter it and reflect on how little I have wandered around towns during the Camino. My wandering, except for a few exceptions, has been limited to necessities such as ATMs, grocery stores, and restaurants. Most of my time after arriving is consumed with cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow's journey.
Around 1030 am, I pass a string of wind turbines. Even from this distance, I hear the hum from the blades as they cut through the air. I think wind turbines are awful. They produce a low amount of wattage per turbine, which is why so many of them exist. Also, they have a reasonably sizeable environmental impact, much more significant than the industry leads you to believe. The former Governor of Wyoming, Dave Freudenthal, once said claiming that wind energy has no impact is like driving a Toyota Prius through a schoolyard and killing a bunch of children, then claiming there was no impact because it is an environmentally friendly car.
Today, I reflect on the people I met along the Camino. Some I met only briefly (e.g., Ririe). Others I spent many kilometers with (e.g., Cami, Timo, Ivo, Lap, and Céline,). I met people from around the world and learned many things about the great regions or countries they live in. Some have walked for months (i.e., Stefan and Soskia, and Alicia from Germany) to reach Santiago. We had great conversations along the way (e.g., with Erin from the US, with whom I only shared a day). Others like José Ramon faded out of my Camino and reminded me that the experience would have been even richer if I spoke more languages. José and I were often frustrated by our inability to speak each other's languages.
I try never to say "No hablas Espanol or no comprendo." These two phrases shut down the lines of communication instantly. It is always better to try to communicate. So much can be conveyed without speaking a word. Communication is messy, and if I waited for conditions to always be right (e.g., being fluent), I would have missed out on meeting many great people. I remember some friends that always wait for the right moment to communicate, often going days or weeks without speaking about important things. In some ways, communication is simplified when people are not entirely fluent. I find that people, myself included, take more time to listen. Also, I noticed that no one attempts to complete the other person's thoughts or respond before the person speaking is finished. It is an elegant simplicity easily lost in daily communication because we let The Mind write the story before it happens.
Around 1030 am, I pass a string of wind turbines. Even from this distance, I hear the hum from the blades as they cut through the air. I think wind turbines are awful. They produce a low amount of wattage per turbine, which is why so many of them exist. Also, they have a reasonably sizeable environmental impact, much more significant than the industry leads you to believe. The former Governor of Wyoming, Dave Freudenthal, once said claiming that wind energy has no impact is like driving a Toyota Prius through a schoolyard and killing a bunch of children, then claiming there was no impact because it is an environmentally friendly car.
I despise turbines because of the noise from the rotors and lights on the tops of the towers (i.e., to make them visible to aircraft). They are an eyesore of the landscape. It is unfortunate that we never consider the intrinsic aesthetic values of a landscape before developing them. So many great scenic spots have been destroyed because of wind turbines and the many roads accompanying them.
I love this photo. Today, I am walking through the farm country of the Galicia Region of Spain. A local farmer stopped his tractor to chat with his friend on the left. Meanwhile, Peregrinos file by the parked tractor.
One thing that makes the Finisterra-Muxia part of the Camino different is I frequently encounter Peregrinos walking the other way. Many people walk the entire triangle starting and finishing in Santiago. I am calling it quits when I reach Muxia and the ocean again.
Galicia is a beautiful rural region of Spain. It was once an impoverished region, evident by many of the villages I've passed through. However, today it is known for seafood and Albariño white wine. It is a young wine, best enjoyed when the wine is under 3 years of age.
If I didn't know I was walking in Spain, this picture could have come from somewhere in the midwest of the United States. The only difference is the tracts of corn are much smaller here.
I haven't seen many Peregrinos again today. So when I pass a young woman from Finland, I ask her if she speaks English. Her face lights up, and we start chatting about all the beautiful places to hike in Europe. Karlina has done many of them. We discuss St. Olav's Way in Sweden, the Via Dinarica in Croatia, and Helvetinjärvi in Finland. Finally, she turns and looks at me, "You remind me of someone I know. It is pleasant to talk with you." I thank her for the compliment and tell her I enjoy talking with her too. Karlina hiked the Camino Portuguese and feels like she missed out on the Peregrino experience. She wishes she had more Peregrinos to cook, share meals with, and play games at the Albergues. I enjoy walking with Karlina. However, her pace is much slower, so I eventually bid her goodbye and continue on.
Just before the day's last climb, Giacomo, a young Italian man, catches me from behind. We start chatting as we begin the short steep ascent. Giacomo wants to learn about the Camino Del Norte and do it in the future. My guidance, the first week is full of steep climbs and descents. The second week is all pavement. Make it to the 3rd week, and you'll love the scenery.
"I'm tired of walking. It is a struggle to get up every day. I just want to reach Finisterra," says Giacomo. Yeah, it is a familiar feeling. Several people I know did not want to continue after Santiago or walked one day and said, "I'm done." As we descend into Lago, Giacomo says, "I am continuing on. I just want to be done. I am going to Corodeño another 5-7 km (3-4.5 mi)." I wish him well as I pull up to the Albergue at the bottom of the hill.
After cleaning up, I take my laptop outside and begin my daily post. Sitting behind me, I can overhear the conversation of a couple. The couple speaks French, but it sounds totally different than the French spoken in France. The cadence is slower, they speak louder, and certain sounds are much more profound. I listen more closely, turn and say in French, "ça fait du bien de rencontrer des gens qui parlent un vrai français [it is good to meet people that speak real French]." Dany and Nicole are co-workers from Québéc who walked from Porto to Santiago along the Camino Portuguese. This is more of a vacation for them, as they plan to take a taxi to the next town since the Albergue is full here.
We chat about many things and laugh a lot, especially when I tell them that when I was in France, people didn't want to talk to me in French because of the Canadian accent. I am thrilled to chat with Dany and Nicole. It feels so familiar. It is akin to differences between American and British English, the latter being much more formal and proper. Many Peregrinos had told me they had encountered French-speaking Canadians along the way. Besides Karen, whom I met when I arrived at Irun, I haven't encountered any. Finally, Dany and Nicole get up to walk to the meeting point for their taxi. Dani clutches his hand tight and pumps his arm "nous sommes les vrais français tabarnak! [fuck yeah, we are the real french people]" We laugh! I wish them well on the rest of their trip. I haven't heard tarbarnak used in decades. When I was a kid, my father used that word frequently. It feels good to be reminded of him today.
Later, I meet another French Canadian woman, Nancy. She has been walking with Yosef, from Germany, who I met in Santa Irene. He was walking with Gita at the time. Nancy tells me she hasn't met any French Canadians either. Nancy and Yosef walked the Camino Frances and planned to end their trip in Finisterra. "Quand j'arriverai à Finisterra, quelque chose de magique se produira. Je vais cesser d'être un pèlerin et devenir un tourists. [when I arrive in Finisterra, something magical will happen. I will stop being a pilgrim and become a tourist]," she says. I laugh. My Camino won't be over until I reach Muxia. Talking with Nancy reminds me that I am near ready to move on and stop walking such long distances for a while too.
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