At the Estation de Tren I met a couple who were finishing up their Camino walk and taking the train to Barcelona to meet up with old friends they hadn’t seen in twenty years.
Michael came to sit with me where my phone was charging. He had lived in Spain and knew the language. His wife, Sybila, was checking emails. He was most helpful. He went with me to the ticket counter to check that I had the correct ticket, the time of departure and the platform number. We joined his wife and chatted. She gave me some protective material for my foot. We talked about many things.
About 30 minutes before my train was scheduled to leave, Michael suggested I go out into the waiting area. The door was not open yet for passengers to go to the platform. I met a couple who was also waiting and of course we chatted.
I heard the loud speaker announce something in Spanish and I looked up to check the electronic schedule. There was Michael. Walking with intention and directing me to head for the platform. So many angels looking out for me even when I am not aware.
I got to the train with several minutes to spare. I am told by a passenger to get off at the second stop, about twenty minutes. Alcanadre.
***
This sleepy village is not so sleepy. The people here are different from others that I have met along the Way. Yesterday I got off the train and looked around for some hint of which way to go. Google was not helping me because I don’t know how to speak ‘Google’ yet!
I seem to have a pet fly. No matter where I go there is always ONE fly keeping my attention.
I saw a man on a small tractor waiting at the RR Crossing not able to pass until another train came through. I asked him where is Casa Azul ? He pointed up the hill with many words and gestures.
I started walking to the road that goes up into the town. Two boys about 9 years old and a girl about 12 arrived to see me. They asked if I came from the train. Spanish of course. But I figured it out readily. I nodded yes-the tren. I asked where is Casa Azul. The littlest was the leader of this threesome. He jumped up and pointed up the hill with many gestures. The road split there. So with the words and my own gestures I asked, “This way? Or This way?” He came further into the street and emphatically said, “This way” indicating to the left with his right arm and a full arm motion that said to go all the way on that street.
I said, “nombre, Carolina “ pointing to myself.
I pointed to him asking, “nombre?” His face darkened into a frown, his eyes mistrusting.
I asked the other two. The youngest began to offer his name and a name for each of his companions. I smiled knowing that he was offering fake names when I saw their smiles. The young girl decided this was enough and indicated to the boys to move on and they left me.
I started up the hill with backpack, fannypack and walking stick. It was 2:30 and the sun was very hot. I looped my jacket into the strap of my backpack and wished I could remove my long sleeve shirt, but that would mean removing the backpack and reorganizing. I decided the long sleeves were sun protection. No problem.
Walking now between the old buildings I saw a young couple emerge who walked me to a place where they said I should go in. It was not a place to stay. It was a bar. I was a bit confused and thought they must have misunderstood me.
Following their direction, I moved through a group of men some seated at a simple table and others standing around, all watching me. I stepped through a screen of plastic strips that served as a door, to be met by a man and woman working inside the Bar/Cafe smiling and saying my name, Carolina. Again I knew I was home for one more night.
The people here tend to speak louder than I have experienced. Not just louder, but with a kind of insistence to be heard and understood.
Asun y Ramon are the landlords of Casa Azul which is on the next street over from Bar Union. It is the only place to stay in this small Village Of around 700 people. Of course, if you are visiting, they are proud and happy and you become the talk of the town.
They don’t speak English and to help me understand Spanish, they say the same thing louder and then louder.
The patrons at the bar tend to be louder than I am used to.
This Village was cordial but not nearly as friendly as most small villages that I have visited on the journey. I felt a bit of mistrust from the first little boy I met near the train tracks to the a older folks who simply watched me wherever I walked.
It was the first time that upon my request, I was not shown the inside of the church. They said in a couple of days. I let them know I would be leaving mañana and they shook their heads.
I walked back toward the Bar Union. I sat on a bench writing my journal until I thought it was time to go to the Bar for dinner.
When I went to Asun to ask about dinner she became flustered. After much explaining, I realized that I had misunderstood her earlier. I thought she indicated that I must eat before 8:00. What she told me is that dinner is at 8:00. Now she was flustered thinking that I would want food now when she is busy tending the bar and other things.
When I realized the misunderstanding, I told her it was fine and I would come back at “ocho". She seemed disturbed that she disappointed me. Actually “ocho” was better for me. I am getting used to this late meal schedule.
I went to my room at Casa Azul to wait for a coupe of hours. I had done laundry by hand when I first arrived to give the clothes as much time as possible to dry for the next day. I checked to see how they were doing and was pleased knowing that they would easily be dry by morning.
I wrote for a while and completed in order to get to the Bar for dinner.
There was a knock on my door. I thought they might be reminding me to come for dinner. I called out that I was coming. Opening the door I was so wonderfully surprised to see Ursula from Germany standing there. She and Marga had arrived about an hour after I had. Of course, they walked. I had not seen them since Alda. And it was a wonderful greeting with a warm hug like old friends.
Ursula and I went to the Bar to find Marga and more hugging all round.
We shared our meal together. A typical Peregrino fare of frits which are French fries that are served with every Peregrino dinner. Salad of lettuce, sliced tomatoes, tuna fish with olives—watch out for the pits. Chicken, Rosa Tinto, red wine that they enjoyed while I had water due to antibiotics. Finally, there was a choice for dessert. Ursula had a Flan with Carmel sauce. Marga and I had the ice chocolatta that was delicious. It came on a stick with a thick chocolate coating that put Dove to shame. Actually it seemed that it was way too good to be on a stick!
We finished around 9:30, walked back to Casa Azul for sleep. I did not have a blanket. Ursula checked my armoire to be certain that I didn’t have one. She shared one from their room. I was very grateful. This is the first night I slept with the windows closed tight and the blanket was necessary to be warm even with my red sweatshirt over my nightgown.
Mañana Cahalorra!
Buen Camino!
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