Psycho House
It’s been raining very heavily, even up until the last few minutes when I leave La Virgen del Camino but before I go Otmar asks me to wait for a moment. I’m convinced he’s going to say something profound but he just wants me to help him into his rain poncho. If it’s going to be wet today I don’t want to walk alongside the main road for 24k or fifteen miles in old money. I’d rather walk 31k or nearly twenty miles instead, in the middle of nowhere than get splashed and stressed out by the traffic.
The views were better today in that you could see for a great distance but pretty bleak as it’s quite flat all around you, only a brief glimpse of hills on the horizon in front or off to the right as you pass the foothills of the Picos de Europa Mountains, they look high so I’m glad I’m not going over them although it would make a change from farmland.
They don’t seem that bothered about level crossings as I have to walk across the train tracks to get to the part of the Camino leading to Hospital de Orbigo. There’s a huge storm cloud and it’s over in the West, and I’m heading, yes west, due west now in fact every day. Reaching Hospital my thoughts of going to the secluded municipal accommodation in the woods is tempered by my dislike, ok fear and respect for lightning so I have to jog uncomfortably over the 600 ft of elderly but solid stone foot bridge into the town or get soaked, and go for the private Albergue in the middle of the place, shelter is most important in a survival situation plus I’m hoping it’ll be warmer in there and rainproof.
A cheery smile and a resounding “Hello Jonboy” greet me as I see Otmar has made it here as has the long haired Aust
rian and old German bloke from Arcahueja. A young mother from England has decided to come and finish her Camino, started previously and ended prematurely due to the prediction of bad weather that never arrived. This time it’s the same situation because the next few days involve a gradual climb back up into the mountains and the forecasts don’t look good. Her child must be enough to carry, let alone all the extra stuff you need for them on top of your own clothes and things, hats off to her. Especially as a crying child, even when being rocked by a grateful temporary Spanish babysitter or mewling in a room attached to the dormitory can be another thing to try your patience already stretched.Dinner was the usual fare although Trout has appeared on the menu in a lot of places and it’s always been my choice over anything else when eating out, that or Sole. I don’t do Steaks or pies or at least I didn’t before the Camino. The choice of food is amazing and whether I’m getting into the spirit or just trying things out of necessity rather than go hungry, I would probably be ok to have ‘whatever your having’ and get by now if not enjoy myself whereas when I left for Spain I was so fussy and set in my ways it’s untrue. The company was Otmar and Old German bloke so the conversation was limited, I wouldn’t mind catching up with someone familiar who is preferably an English speaker too at some point.
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