The end is neigh

 

Although the bar next to the refugio had promised a breakfast, everything this morning appears to be closed hermitically. After my experiences of the previous weeks I should expect this, but nevertheless I am fed up again! The pilgrimage leads me through more lonesome countryside than yesterday, with a lot of woods and heather. In fact there is nothing worth mentioning this morning.

Now that I have started the last hundred kilometres, the Camino is getting more crowded. I never saw so many cyclists as today. When Dutch cyclists pass me, which happens sometimes, they frequently stop to have a talk. They recognise me as a compatriot by the yellow banner of the Dutch fraternity of Saint James I carry on my backpack. It is hot again, but there are more clouds than yesterday and the temperature is also more pleasant. I feel the problems with my left calve are at last nearly gone. For the next few days I hope to make more kilometres each day.

 

Somewhere in Galicia

 

About twelve o’clock I see the first eucalyptuses, which have been especially planted on a large scale in the western part of Galicia. They smell very nice and seem to be very useful for the cellulose industry, but you can speak here of flora counterfeiting on a large scale. They need so much water that other plants suffer. On the bottom of these woods there is only one kind of fern that can grow. It is a pity that so many domestic woods of oaks, beeches and fir trees had to disappear. There seems to be a nature protection law, trying to prevent this. However, from pure pursuit of gain , often original vegetation is set on fire. Once the original vegetation has disappeared, it seems the owner can do as he wants.

Fortunately the refugio is cooler than yesterday. I share my corner of the dormitory with an Italian father with two Latin American children. I suppose that he has adopted them. These children are excellent walkers and I shall see them again in Santiago. To my surprise I see Etienne from Rouen again, who had to stay behind in Los Arcos with an injured foot and we agree to have dinner this evening to catch upon news. When I entered the town I met a boy who gave me a folder with the address of restaurant o Porton, which is situated a little bit outside the centre of the town. Eileen, Moira and the other South Africans from our company have tried out this restaurant and are very enthusiastic. For this reason Etienne, Norman and I try it also. They have said nothing too much. The food is served with much attention to detail, the service by the Asturian couple that manages the restaurant is excellent and the (Celtic) music very good. And all this for only seven Euros each! I ask the owner the name of the CD I heard, so that I can buy it in Santiago. Moreover I think this restaurant is the only thing I shall remember of this town, which is rather uninteresting.