San Martín to Astorga - part 2
Thursday, July 17, 2008 at 07:24PM They are driving me crazy. Journal Excerpt, June 1, 2006.
The way went on towards Astorga, going through a park-like area that at times, I swear, seemed to be going in circles. My map says otherwise, but that was how it felt. I was trying to be a good walking companion, but every time I walked ahead of Mr. Edelweiss he began issuing me orders: Walk here, walk there! Pausi! Careful there, careful here! Pausi! That and the fact that there didn't seem to be any topics of great depth to discuss between us. I let myself drop behind to avoid being ordered about. The further I dropped away hoping I would just blend in with other pilgrims and be forgotten, the more often they would check on me and wait. It was sort of like a twisted and reverse Where's Waldo? game. I changed my tactic, kept up, kept quiet, and 
Cruceiro de Santo Toribio.kept my mind busy trying to plot my escape. I couldn't think of many other alternatives other than breaking out into a full sprint, which would have been difficult with the pack and rather short lived given my physical condition. I marched on, plotting and thinking of what more I could try. I was reminded of a television program about a Chimpanzee who had been taught to communicate via a large poster board of various symbols. The Chimpanzee would point to various squares thereby making up a question or sentence that the researchers could interpret and understand. The show left me wondering if the Chimpanzee would have perhaps liked a few more carefully selected symbols as it seemed rather a nuisance to keep having to make complete human sentences just to get a banana snack. Walking through the park I came to the conclusion that in the evening I would have to try and find my inner Chimpanzee and spell things out very slowly, simply, and clearly, banana snack be damned. And if that last attempt didn't work, then as the saying goes: all is fair in love and war.
Despite my physical problems and failed attempts to free myself, I didn't fail to notice that the park-like area was rather nice. I remember in particular seeing bushes of lavender growing along the path. They had big fat purple blossoms like oversized pipe cleaners at the end of their stems. I stopped to smell them to try and console
Cruceiro de Santo Toribio. myself somehow. More towering stork's nests, built more for Big Bird than the storks themselves were also along the way. I think the best consolation of all, however, was that deep blue Spanish sky. It was as good as any antidote for sickness, sadness, and irritation. It was stretched over us again. You could follow that blue to the end of the horizon in every direction. I sometimes felt like I was walking in some kind of Camino snow globe, without glitter or snow bits, just one big, deep blue arching backdrop complete with an observer amusedly looking over us while we walked through the scene like little ants. I felt so wonderfully small and protected against that sky.
When we reached Cruceiro Santa Torbido I didn't want to stop. By this time on the road I had seen any number of stone crosses, and this one wasn't so different to merit a full stop in my opinion. At least, not on that day under my rather difficult circumstances. We had already had a break back on a haystack not too long before, anyway. The cross sits on top of a hill. From the top you can see Astorga in the distance. I was in a mood to go straight on in and on to Murias, and as fast as possible. Mr. Edelweiss had other plans. First it was time to make another Pausi, then it was time for a photo shoot at the cross. When all that was said and done, I was more than happy to move on, my patience running very thin. As we got closer to the city, and more businesses and homes popped up, we needed to make another stop at a store for Mr. Edelweiss to buy something. A few kilometers later, as we neared the city it was time for a coffee break. I wasn't against the coffee break because I needed to take my antibiotics and make my water soluble vitamin elixir. We filed casually into the bar. I stopped dead in my tracks. Marc and Xavier and the French couple I had met briefly at the café in Leon were all sitting at the bar. 
Stork nest.I was shocked. I could not understand it. I mean, how was it possible? What were the odds? It wasn't as if it was the only bar around. And Xavier didn't usually allow for such stops. I couldn't accept it. On the one hand, it seemed somewhat weird, although reasonable and scientifically explainable, to keep running into pilgrims like Jacques, the Frenchman with the bad eczema, every once and a great while even given the fact that I rarely saw him while walking. But on the other hand, to keep running into Marc and Xavier consistently, even in a random bar and in an albergue where they weren't staying was beginning to seem more than a coincidence, and yet it was. Or it wasn't. You decide. I, at that moment, couldn't believe it. I was mortified. It just seemed so implausible. I had to divert my eyes and face in an attempt to hide my shock. Luckily (and I still don't believe in luck) they were just finishing their coffee. I was bent down fumbling with my pack zippers trying to get my heavy tube of vitamins and my antibiotics out when they came over. Xavier actually didn't ignore me this time. When I looked at him, I noticed he too was still sick, and was looking rather badly. When he moved in to offer me a kiss on the cheek as a greeting, his boots, which since he had switched to wearing his sandals were now hanging on the back of his pack, swung in and around and clobbered me on the head. We had a short smile and laugh about that. Then I greeted Marc with a kiss on the cheek, said goodbye, and bent back down to my pack. He stopped before he left, turned back around, put his hand on my back and softly patted it a couple of times. "Goodbye, Deb," he said. I didn't turn around. I couldn't even speak. It had all been too great a shock for me. I listened to the bar door close behind me, then turned around to watch through the window from where I was standing to see their heads disappear down the steps and back into the street.
I sat down at the table with Mr.Edelweiss and Co. and let them talk. I had nothing to say anymore. I sat there and thought how it didn't seem possible to run into Marc and Xavier again. 
Cruceiro de Santa Toribio.How I didn't want to see them any more. At the same time I had wanted to run out of the bar and call out to them and say, "Hey! Help! I've been abducted by aleins!" I knew however, that they wouldn't understand that phrase in English, and more importantly, I didn't want to put myself back in the situation I had been in before. On the other hand, it became painfully clear that I didn't need to, because they weren't inviting me back anyway. I kept ruminating over how incredulous the situation was. How? How? How?! I thought. Then I began to wonder if I was going to see them at the albergue that evening. When those thoughts dissipated a bit, the humiliation of the whole thing sunk in, cut out all thinking, and deflated my spirit.
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Reader Comments (2)
I don't know where you will be beginning, but if at St. Jean, the first day is arduous, but not grueling. Once you make it over the Pyrenees you will never encounter mountainous terrain like that again all the way to Santiago. And, the mountains that you do encounter will be much later, and that will most likely mean that your body will by then be stronger. This was my experience.
When I started my journey at St. Jean I wasn't anywhere near physically fit to embark on 28 kilometers over the Pyrenees with 15 kilos (tsk-tsk, way too much!) on my back. They key was simply going slow and listening to my body, and second to that, having two walking poles. If you haven't read what I've said about that on my site, please know that using walking poles can save your body significant stress and strain. If you use them correctly, meaning adjusting for uphill and downhill walking, you will reap the greatest benefit. They can also save you from injury such as slips, walking on wobbly stones, and should you fall as I did last year, can break or slow your body from worse injury. When I descended to Roncesvalles I also took the long curvy road instead of the rather steep drop. That was smart.
I am such a believer in using two walking poles that I refuse to go hiking without them. No way, José.
That said, I was sore and just plain pooped (as you have read perhaps) when I arrived in Roncesvalles, but it wasn't terrible pain, just not what I had experienced before. Somewhere along week 2 my body had grown stronger and was ready to really fly. Yours will too if you listen to it along the way.
Hope this helps and encourages. You can do it! If you weren't a little nervous and concerned it wouldn't be worth doing. So get two poles and listen to your inner voice!
Buen Camino! ~Deb.
*And please let me know how it all turned out.