Vilela (Spain) | Get What You Need - Day 114

The sun begins to warm the houses near Playa de Aguieleiro near the mouth of the natural port, as I leave town this morning.

Day 29 takes me from Tapia de Casariego to the little town of Vilela. The 20 km (12.5 mi) stage is relatively flat until the climb following Ribadeao which tops out at 164 m (534 ft). 

There was no Albergue in Tapia that was serviced by Correos yesterday, so I opted to have my rucksack delivered to a hotel instead. The private room and soft bed were so wonderful that I woke up at 8 am. I usually start walking around 730 am, so this is quite late for me. I needed the rest. By the time, I am done with my morning routine, I finally leave town around 9 am. This is the last beach I pass, Playa de Penarronda along the Camino.

The Camino passes through a small nature preserve near the beach this morning. There is a wooden walkway which winds through the small groves of trees.

I notice this Grey Heron basking in the sun. When I first spot the Grey Heron it has both wings spread out to its side and looked like a giant white lamp.

I make my way around the beach and up a small hill. In front of me, two older ladies are leaving the small cafe. As I approach them, I notice one has a Canadian flag patch on her backpack. It's nice to see fellow Canadians, I say as I pull up next to the gals. Annie and Sandy are from the Vancouver area and started from Bilbao. They are planning to volunteer at an Albergue on the Camino Frances after they complete the Camino del Norte. I have lots of time and the idea of volunteering resonates with me. However, my Schengen Visa will expire shortly after completing the Camino so volunteering on the Camino is not an option, but I file the idea away for now. I check my app and notice we have missed a turn. Go figure, another missed turn. 

As I pass this structure, I love how amazing it looks with the sun breaking through the slits. Almost like there is a fire burning inside the structure.

My WhatsApp buzzes. I look and Lena just sent me a message. It has been almost 10 days since I heard from Lena. The last time we communicated was before she split off following the Primitivo after Villaviacosa, Spain. "We shared some music last night and this song came up. I think it sums up the Camino really well: You Can't Always Get What You Want." she says. I open up Spotify, which I do when someone shares music with me and listen to the song by the Rolling Stones. I thank her for thinking of me this morning. This helped give me just a little bit more bounce in my step on this lovely morning.

I encounter Annie and Sandy again and notice we are off the trail again. "I think we should follow the sign, it is clearly marked," says Sandy. The official trail is north of the road, closer to the ocean. I'm going to head there. "We'll see who walks more kilometers," says Sandy. I laugh at the absurdity of the  statement. I have the app open and know they eventually need to cross the road, making it a tie. 

I cross a long bridge over the port into Ribadeo. Halfway across the bridge is the official line that separates the Asturias (east) and Galacia (west) regions. I notice behind me is Stefan and Soskia, the couple that have been walking from Holland since May. I last saw them in Soto de Luiña a few days ago. The view along the eastern side of the bay is lovely! 

It is very windy on the bridge so I slide my blue buff headband further down onto my head and take care not to drop my phone while taking this picture. This is the last time I will see the ocean on the Camino.

The Camino circles back under the bridge and the underside of the bridge catches my eye. I love the red support beams, they remind me of fish bones and give the bridge a distinctive look.

Looking south towards the harbor of Ribadeo, Sandy and Annie catch me again and we walk into town together. I notice, we are off trail again. "I think we should stick to what is marked," says Sandy. I'm going to head down to the harbor, I say. We part ways again. Sandy and Annie have walked the Camino simply by following signs, right or not, which shows that there are many ways to get to Santiago.

I follow the harbor well past where the trail cuts back uphill. I am enjoying the sites this morning. When I pass this curious building, I decide to go inside. It's an elevator. It takes me to the top where I connect with the Camino again.

In the city center, I stop for a sandwich and notice Stefan and Soskia walking by. We chat for a bit before they head on. We'll be staying at the same hostel again tonight in Vilela. While enjoying the morning and my sandwich, I notice a black hearse back up to the little church next door. I watch them carry a casket into the chuch. About 20 minutes later, a couple dozen people file out of the church in tears. My heart goes out to them. I think of how different our days are. I feel great and am enjoying the beautiful morning. For them, this appears to be a very difficult day. I think about how I've cross-paths with other people in the past and had no idea how their day was before our paths crossed. Life is strange that way, we seldom take the time to ask, share, and understand where we are at emotionally and physically when our paths cross. I've made it a habit on the Camino to always ask my fellow Peregrinos how they are feeling when we start walking together.

I look back one final time at the ocean as I climb away from Ribadeo and head southwest.

The Camino in Galicia is well marked with these concrete cairns. I notice several things about them which are different from other regions. First, only the arrow direction matters, the Clamshell may point in several directions and is no longer associated with the direction of travel along the Camino. Second, each cairn has the distance to Santiago listed to three decimal places. This one tells me I'm 186.535 km (115.907 mi) from Santiago. I think the three decimals is a bit unnecessary but sometimes the cairns are close together and some might enjoy seeing the numbers decline even if only by a little bit.

The granaries in Galicia are noticeably different too. They are smaller rectangular buildings with spikes often adorning the roof line. I love the way the look, they remind me of something from the Medieval Ages.

Borja pings me on WhatsApp, just before I arrive at the Albergue. He made it to Santiago. Incredible! He did it in just 28 days, averaging 30 km (19 mi) per day for his journey. What is more impressive is that he averaged 35 km (22 mi) after Portugalete the last time I saw him. I'm happy for him and his accomplishment. I still have another 9-10 days left before reaching Santiago.

I arrive at the Albergue around 230 pm and find Sergio (Madrid) and Julia (Italy) are already at the Albergue. Soon the Peregrinos begin arriving. Timo, Sandy, and Annie, as well as two older French gals who are doing 30 km per day, and finally Stefan and Soskia. A small group of us go to dinner together at the bar next door. It isn't fancy but it fills the gap. We return just before 9 pm and find all the remaining Peregrinos already in bed with the lights off.

So, Stefan, Julia, and I sit outside for a bit talking. "What are you doing after the Camino," asks Stefan. I don't know yet, I say. "I need to find a job," says Julia who is returning from Australia and is currently without a home or a job. "My friends keep asking me if I'm coming back. I'm not going back to that shit. People work jobs they hate to buy shit they don't need. It's stupid." says Stefan. "After walking for four months I have everything I need every day. I wake up in the morning ready to go walk," he continues. He makes a good point. "Yeah, some people wake up on the Camino and are so unhappy to walk in the morning. I love waking up to go walk," says Julia. I reflect on how people live in the US and so many, including myself at times, have no desire to face the day. So many hate waking up each morning and mindlessly doing the same thing every day because it is "what they have to do."

"Have you heard of WWOOF-ing or HelpX," says Stefan. No. What's that, I say. "It's a website where you can register to volunteer on organic farms all over the world. They provide you with room and board, you provide labor and time," he says. "I need something that will pay me," says Julia who's in her early 30s. That's interesting, I've heard of other websites where a person can volunteer to house or pet sit, even provide simple services in exchange for room and board, I add. Finally, around 10 pm, we end the conversation abruptly, and all join the other Peregrinos who are already in bed.

Twice today, the Camino provided me with ideas centered on volunteering as a way to travel. Both times, the ideas resonated with me. I need to explore this further when the Camino ends. I like the idea of trading what I have lots of (i.e., time) for something I have none of (i.e., room and board). I'm curious to see what opportunities might exist for me out there. For now, I'll file this away for another day.