Mondoñedo (Spain) | Uprooted - Day 115

The sky is stunning behind the Albergue this morning. As I leave Vilela, I begin the first of several climbs on this long day.

Day 30 takes me away from the coast from Vilela to Mondoñedo. This stage is a long 31 km (20 mi) and has several long steep climbs. The most vertical part of which reaches 365 m (1,200 ft).

I leave the Albergue around 730 am. The temperature is perfect for walking this morning, and I look forward to the clouds helping me by blocking out the sun as I begin the first of several climbs. Unfortunately, some clouds are hanging a bit too low in the valley this morning.

Around 930 am, near the top of a climb, I notice two things. First, the sun is trying to pierce through the thick clouds this morning. I love seeing rays of sunlight break through the clouds. It is, however, one of the most challenging photographs to capture. Despite my best efforts, the photo never quite captures the beauty I see this morning. Second, I am surprised to see corn growing in the mountains of Spain. The elevation isn't that high, but it is strange to see Eucalyptus and Pines next to cornfields.

It seems like the Peregrinos have disappeared from the trail today. The countryside is lovely and peaceful. When I see the square fields and block houses in the distance, I can't help but think about how we force square shapes onto the earth. It is as if our minds cannot conceive otherwise due to their dualistic nature. This block is mine, and that one is yours or maybe The Mind thinks it is just too complicated to deal with non-linear shapes. Squares are easy, and natural shapes and drainages are not. The Mind likes things to be easy and that is why I let my heart and body guide me instead.

Near the town of Villamartin Pequeno (Small Martinville), I pass another flower pot doll. I am so found of these little dolls. This one is dressed like a Peregrino. I think it might be fun to replicate this one and have it as decoration in my house in the future. It is easy, inexpensive, and straightforward to recreate. These days, I find that simple things bring me the most joy.

I love the name of the two towns I pass through this morning. Villamartin Pequeno and Villamartin Grande. Undoubtedly I am partial to Small and Large Martinville.

I stop at a cafe in Villamartin Pequeno to grab a Cola Cao (hot milk with powdered chocolate) and an empanada. Cola Cao is similar to Nesquik but has a better flavor and dissolves better. Timo and Sergio arrive. Both struggled with the steep climbs this morning. It is like pulling teach to get Timo to talk this morning. I've noticed he rarely says anything if another person besides myself is present. So, I give him space.

I leave the two and resume the walk down the hill. After passing through Villamartin Grande, I notice a red fox slowly creep out of a cornfield. As he looks to cross the road, he looks right, then left. As he looks left, he spots me and dives back into the safety of the corn. I reflect on the incredible wildlife sightings I've had along the Camino. I never expected this. I am surprised by the diversity. It makes the Camino memorable, and I feel more grounded in the experience.

I love this part of the trail before arriving at Vilanova dé Lourenzá. It reminds me of the Pacific Northwest because of the ferns. Obviously, the Eucalyptus trees are out of place. Nevertheless, the contrast of colors is a welcome sight.

As I near the city of Lourenzá, I can hear music and notice people crowding the streets just left of the yellow building. Then I remember it is the Fabada Festival today, Sunday. Fabada is a white bean that is the size of a large lima bean. This festival celebrates this year's harvest.

I wander away from the Camino and follow the sights and sounds. Vendors are selling dried fabada beans in the square next to the church. 

I follow my ears and the sound of music. A group of musicians, resembling a Mexican mariachi band with black Hawaiian shirts are playing trumpets, saxophones, tubas, and drums. They are such a joy to listen to that I stop for several songs. 

Near the band, a street vendor sells small bowls of Fabada stew, plain (top) and with sausage (below). The dish includes chorizo and blood sausage as well as pork belly.

There is one more ascent and about 8 km (5 mi) left for the day. I decide to move on since my rucksack awaits me in Mondoñedo. If I stop any longer, I will not want to finish the hike. My body will be too tired and cold to resume. Fortunately, there is a steep and short climb leaving Lourenzá to warm me back up. As I descend from the last climb, I pass this little church overlooking the town of Mondoñedo.

Once I get checked in, I try to make my reservations and plan out the coming days. As I do, I start looking ahead to the end in Santiago. Only about one week left till Santiago. I'm getting frustrated by how the cities and my stages fall into place. I can keep doing a 30-35 km (19-22 mi) stages every other day, followed by a short 15-18 km (9-11 mi). I don't enjoy this combination of a long followed by a short stage. I am getting irritated by this. It is not what I want to do. I find it hard to plan. It is even more difficult to find a place to stay tomorrow night.

I take a moment and reflect on my difficulty. I feel like I am being swept up in another wave. The Camino doesn't feel like my own anymore. I decide to book a stay in an Albergue that is only 19 km (12 mi) away. I tell myself I'll figure the rest of the stages out later. At least I'm not doing 34 km (22 mi) tomorrow.

The Albergue is relatively modern and lovely. Unfortunately, I am next to a couple of loud snorers. After struggling to fall asleep, I reach into my bag and pull out my noise-canceling earbuds. I open Spotify and find white noise to listen to. I pick the calming sound of rain. Finally, I fall asleep. About 6 hours later, I wake when my earbuds say, "battery low." The snoring in the Albergue continues.

Unable to fall asleep, I relocate. I spend some time under the stars, and reflect on my struggles today. I am not walking my own Camino anymore. I am feeling a bit barn sour, too. I am more focused on end than the journey right now. I am tired of walking long stages. I remember that half this week included stages of > 30 km (19 mi). I am finding that I am not enjoying the Camino like I did early on because I am focused on walking the kilometers before it gets too late in the day. I don't enjoy reaching the Albergue after 330 pm. This is compounded by the fact it has been several days since I have seen the coast. I am feeling uprooted all of a sudden.

It all makes sense, actually. I know what I need to do to ground myself back into this experience. I love spending time under the stars. Now that I finally feel tired, I head back to my bunk and fall asleep. This time without the aid of earplugs or earbuds.