Following one of the Pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela
Fuente de Cantos to Zafra - Cheating on a bus ride
It isn't very well signposted so it's a bit of a walk and the sign right outside points in the opposite direction helpfully. Dropping our bags off there are quite a few of our friends there already. We leave and pass Dick and Richard arriving only to bump into Judy whose been here for two days and fills us in on where the Clinic is and leave her after she explains all about how helpful they were (even though she's not a E.U. citizen and therefore doesn't have the replacement for the old E111 form, the European Health Insurance Card that I carry in case of such an emergency) and before she can give us too many details about her blood test as I'm a bit squeamish. Finding the Clinic the receptionists seem to take their time but finally we get to go upstairs and hunt for the room of the Dr Meg's got an appointment with. It's going to be a wait so I head off with Megan's blessing and go back to see my friend the Tourist Information Girl, who had complimented me on my Spanish before when trying to explain that my friend was ill and we needed to see a physician, I returned the favour with my stock phrase for such an occasion 'Usted es muy amable', 'your very kind' and probably lying lol... When you try you get a lot further than when you don't, comes under the heading if you don't ask (in Spanish) you don't get, I suppose...
Internet access has been very hard to find so far on this trip as the Tourist Information people although helpful, their 'information' is often inaccurate or out of date, however my friendly chica does give me some options on a new map as Megan's holding the other one (oh well a good excuse to see and talk to her again ha ha). So off I hunt after failing to get anything done on the free computers in the library as they all run Linux and won't give me access to my memory card or video camera (another regular occurrence on this trip, Linux linux everywhere). Giving up after yet another disappointing and rather painful walk despite the lack of a pack on my back I head back to the Clinic and find that Megan's still waiting patiently (medical non-joke) but hasn't been seen and the waiting room looks more like a free for all plus she only has an approximate appointment time. Asking if she wants me to come in with her, but not really wanting to like all medically allergic men, I'm starving hungry and she thankfully doesn't need the help. Her Lonely Planet phrasebook is brilliant and I make a plan to copy out all of the Chat-up lines ;-)
Heading back towards the Hostel and finding a bar open right opposite I settle for a beer and a huge salad that looks too big to finish but disappears and fills me right up followed by a glass of red wine, purely for the antioxidants' positive effects on my knees of course...
So, full and happy I go back AGAIN to the Clinic and arrive as Meg's coming out, my timing has always been impeccable or just lucky I guess, I think the former is part of the synchronicity that seems to be so prevalent on the Camino and at other times in my life when I take decision making out of the way and let my life flow naturally on hunches and instinct. We go back to the Albergue and have to wait for the door to be unlocked by the receptionist again, they obviously don't trust the locals not to pop in for some pilfering of Pilgrims possessions or some such behaviour. Judy is back and everyone is here, our room has been filled up by Dirk, Paco, Helmut, the other dutch pilgrim whose name has escaped me and Tomas the Polish pilgrim who never speaks but strangely enough suddenly becomes quite verbose (in that he says a whole sentence) when he sees me stitching my clothes and also my feet as is my habit of wicking blisters on a regular basis later on in the day. I give Dirk the nod about free Wee Fee (Wi-Fi) in the library and having done all my good deeds for the day I go off again to find an Internet Cafe. The bar that I eventually find is brilliant, brand new computers, webcams and headphones although the tunes they are playing are mint anyway and the atmosphere electric, plus the bar staff don't go unnoticed by me either phwoar! Most Spanish girls are an acquired taste but occasionally there's a Penelope Cruz lookalike (my friend in the Tourist Information) or a Shakira double like the barmaid.
I've become quite latin and hotblooded like the locals are by reputation, it must be catching, or it's the heat of the day, either that or it's the fact that I've just spent over a week sleeping in the same small rooms in bunk beds with lots of pre or post pensioners, mucho snorers and little privacy. I don't get mad, I've expanded the limits of patience and tolerance as a necessity.
Finding time to talk about Meg's appointment it transpires that she finally got her point across between her phrasebook, sign language and the doctors insistence over and over that she is feeling Cacka! This becomes our latest in-joke, if I want to make her laugh it's all I have to say. Hey Megan, um I'm feeling a little bit CACKA!!! Roaring with laughter is the best medicine but so is the fact that despite her still fragile state, Meg's feeling much much better already and even opts for some soup. It's great to see her winning smile back.
I go back to my webcafe and although I'm a total Skype newbie
it's great to talk to, see and hear my folks and catchup plus I can put my videos and pictures online finally... Thank heaven for small mercies. I've always felt entirely safe in Spanish towns and walking back after dark is no problem plus the three Self Defence Bootcamp weekends I've attended afford me the confidence that if anyone so much as approached me in an undesired way, they'd be coming off worst (or I'd run away which was always my first choice before and after the Krav Maga training). I don't like confrontation, so I avoid it at all costs, but so should they. Introducing myself in my mind like this:- Me llamo Jason Bourne...
Next Time...
No room at the Inns. Trying to drive off in someone's car. The singing Pilgrim.
Day 8 - 16th April 2010
After quickly boshing the breakfast and letting Megan go for hers I pack everything up and double check the bus timetable, we head into the centre of Fuente and end up being just too late to catch the first one because it's much bigger than it seems at first glance. Finding the Bus Station we slump into seats in the Cafe and have quite a wait for the next one. I've seen images of a huge smokey cloud on television but without reading newspapers or having a t.v. to watch the full story on I'
ve no idea what's happening. Txting the folks back home I get filled in on the Volcano in Iceland and after making sure Meg's happy to wait there while I pop back into town to try to find Internet access as I like to put my pictures online every now and then and check my emails. Arriv
ing back in plenty of time to catch the bus into Zafra we stick our bags in the luggage compartment underneath and pay only 1 Euro something for what is a 20 plus kilometre journey, pretty sure you wouldn't be taken anywhere on a coach in the U.K. so comfortably and so cheaply. Nothing to do but sit back and relax, Megan's stomach was cramping all the way on the walk to the Station so she's still feeling pretty bad but it's a good sign that she tried to eat breakfast at least.
ve no idea what's happening. Txting the folks back home I get filled in on the Volcano in Iceland and after making sure Meg's happy to wait there while I pop back into town to try to find Internet access as I like to put my pictures online every now and then and check my emails. Arriv
ing back in plenty of time to catch the bus into Zafra we stick our bags in the luggage compartment underneath and pay only 1 Euro something for what is a 20 plus kilometre journey, pretty sure you wouldn't be taken anywhere on a coach in the U.K. so comfortably and so cheaply. Nothing to do but sit back and relax, Megan's stomach was cramping all the way on the walk to the Station so she's still feeling pretty bad but it's a good sign that she tried to eat breakfast at least.Arriving in Zafra the first priority is to find the Albergue and drop off our bags, after that I suggest we try to find a Red Cross Clinic as they usually have English speaking Doctors, however that was just my hope because I had a similar situation on holiday with my friends a year before in Majorca when Jess D. was suffering and I traipsed a good length of the coast trying to find a chemist open on a Sunday for some medicine and had to try to explain her symptoms to the Pharmacist. The Tourist Information is a good place to start and the rather attractive, incredibly helpful young lady behind the desk gives us all the information we need to find both somewhere to stay and The Clinic. Trying to find somewhere to stay is tough. We use the map and Megan's navigation skills soon become apparent, whereas mine are pretty much nonexistant (like the time heading to south east Wales for a camping trip we ended up two hours out of our way in Camarthen on the south west coast, I tried to bullshit and cover myself by saying there were two of them oops before we drive all the way back again). Zafra is busy, eclectic and has a large Castle in the middle but we find the Hostales listed in my limited information (a pricier option but we just wanted a room and to drop off our packs). Asking the third or fourth person as many are visitors, an older lady surprisingly turns out to be the Owner of the one we want. It's far too expensive so we opt out and after meeting Bob and Morag again only to find that Morag's been very ill and is still suffering from food poisoning it becomes clear that we've all had a case of the dodgy restaurant running grumpy bastarditis from Monasterio, cutting Bob short before he can start more stories we head off to the Albergue Turistico a middle ground in price terms.
It isn't very well signposted so it's a bit of a walk and the sign right outside points in the opposite direction helpfully. Dropping our bags off there are quite a few of our friends there already. We leave and pass Dick and Richard arriving only to bump into Judy whose been here for two days and fills us in on where the Clinic is and leave her after she explains all about how helpful they were (even though she's not a E.U. citizen and therefore doesn't have the replacement for the old E111 form, the European Health Insurance Card that I carry in case of such an emergency) and before she can give us too many details about her blood test as I'm a bit squeamish. Finding the Clinic the receptionists seem to take their time but finally we get to go upstairs and hunt for the room of the Dr Meg's got an appointment with. It's going to be a wait so I head off with Megan's blessing and go back to see my friend the Tourist Information Girl, who had complimented me on my Spanish before when trying to explain that my friend was ill and we needed to see a physician, I returned the favour with my stock phrase for such an occasion 'Usted es muy amable', 'your very kind' and probably lying lol... When you try you get a lot further than when you don't, comes under the heading if you don't ask (in Spanish) you don't get, I suppose...Internet access has been very hard to find so far on this trip as the Tourist Information people although helpful, their 'information' is often inaccurate or out of date, however my friendly chica does give me some options on a new map as Megan's holding the other one (oh well a good excuse to see and talk to her again ha ha). So off I hunt after failing to get anything done on the free computers in the library as they all run Linux and won't give me access to my memory card or video camera (another regular occurrence on this trip, Linux linux everywhere). Giving up after yet another disappointing and rather painful walk despite the lack of a pack on my back I head back to the Clinic and find that Megan's still waiting patiently (medical non-joke) but hasn't been seen and the waiting room looks more like a free for all plus she only has an approximate appointment time. Asking if she wants me to come in with her, but not really wanting to like all medically allergic men, I'm starving hungry and she thankfully doesn't need the help. Her Lonely Planet phrasebook is brilliant and I make a plan to copy out all of the Chat-up lines ;-)
Heading back towards the Hostel and finding a bar open right opposite I settle for a beer and a huge salad that looks too big to finish but disappears and fills me right up followed by a glass of red wine, purely for the antioxidants' positive effects on my knees of course...
So, full and happy I go back AGAIN to the Clinic and arrive as Meg's coming out, my timing has always been impeccable or just lucky I guess, I think the former is part of the synchronicity that seems to be so prevalent on the Camino and at other times in my life when I take decision making out of the way and let my life flow naturally on hunches and instinct. We go back to the Albergue and have to wait for the door to be unlocked by the receptionist again, they obviously don't trust the locals not to pop in for some pilfering of Pilgrims possessions or some such behaviour. Judy is back and everyone is here, our room has been filled up by Dirk, Paco, Helmut, the other dutch pilgrim whose name has escaped me and Tomas the Polish pilgrim who never speaks but strangely enough suddenly becomes quite verbose (in that he says a whole sentence) when he sees me stitching my clothes and also my feet as is my habit of wicking blisters on a regular basis later on in the day. I give Dirk the nod about free Wee Fee (Wi-Fi) in the library and having done all my good deeds for the day I go off again to find an Internet Cafe. The bar that I eventually find is brilliant, brand new computers, webcams and headphones although the tunes they are playing are mint anyway and the atmosphere electric, plus the bar staff don't go unnoticed by me either phwoar! Most Spanish girls are an acquired taste but occasionally there's a Penelope Cruz lookalike (my friend in the Tourist Information) or a Shakira double like the barmaid.
I've become quite latin and hotblooded like the locals are by reputation, it must be catching, or it's the heat of the day, either that or it's the fact that I've just spent over a week sleeping in the same small rooms in bunk beds with lots of pre or post pensioners, mucho snorers and little privacy. I don't get mad, I've expanded the limits of patience and tolerance as a necessity.
Finding time to talk about Meg's appointment it transpires that she finally got her point across between her phrasebook, sign language and the doctors insistence over and over that she is feeling Cacka! This becomes our latest in-joke, if I want to make her laugh it's all I have to say. Hey Megan, um I'm feeling a little bit CACKA!!! Roaring with laughter is the best medicine but so is the fact that despite her still fragile state, Meg's feeling much much better already and even opts for some soup. It's great to see her winning smile back.
I go back to my webcafe and although I'm a total Skype newbie
it's great to talk to, see and hear my folks and catchup plus I can put my videos and pictures online finally... Thank heaven for small mercies. I've always felt entirely safe in Spanish towns and walking back after dark is no problem plus the three Self Defence Bootcamp weekends I've attended afford me the confidence that if anyone so much as approached me in an undesired way, they'd be coming off worst (or I'd run away which was always my first choice before and after the Krav Maga training). I don't like confrontation, so I avoid it at all costs, but so should they. Introducing myself in my mind like this:- Me llamo Jason Bourne...Next Time...
No room at the Inns. Trying to drive off in someone's car. The singing Pilgrim.
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