astorga 2

Today was an easy day of only 18K. Thank God because we were all virtual trainwrecks. We are in Astorga now, an ancient Roman mining town. It's lovely. We couldve walked a little further, but there are big World Cup games on tonight and we didnt want to risk a non-HD connection ;)

The morning arrived with blue skies once again. Mary, Margie and myself set the pace, with Mia and Cecelia lagging behind as usual. This was only the second day, but a pattern had emerged! We're not long outside of the town when Mary steps up the pace, significantly. Soon she is 100 yards ahead of Margie and me. Soon thereafter she is 400 yards ahead of us. We don't know what's gotten into her. Margie and I don't much care. We are stopping for cafe con leche at the first village and if she wants to beat us there, its fine with us. Soon Mary is out of sight. Is she trying to prove, after yesterday, that she is a capable pilgrim? Is she trying to create space for meditative walking? Is she sick of me or Margie? Turns out, she just has to use the bathroom. And the only bathroom (or any other sign of civilization) around is 5K ahead of us. We all meet up, even Mia and Cecelia, within 20 minutes of each other. Cafe and croissants are ordered, bathrooms are used and we are back on the road.

We are now walking through lovely farmlands with gently rolling hills. Soon we pass a very unusual pilgrim monument. Its a grey figure, dressed in a grey shirt, holding a pilgrim's staff. Cecelia and I leave a message for Stefania, who is about two days behind us now. Ours is one of a dozen messages written, scratched or left under a rock on or near the figure. So many people searching for old friends and new. Will she ever see it, I wonder.

We keep walking, as always. Suddenly, up over a small rise of a hill we see a lone building. It is an abandoned farm building of some sort, but it has been commandeered by "David from Barcelona". A Camino Angel if ever there was one. He has set up a whimsical green pushcart, trimmed with red hearts and loaded up with goodies, all for "donativo". Pay what you like, or not. He has strung up a hammock between two wretched trees and he is cutting into a big fresh watermelon and handing out pieces. The kicker is that he is also quite a treat himself. We immediately nicknamed him "Fabio", due to his luxurious locks. He loses his allure however when our eyes stumble over the giant cold sore crusting up his lower lip! We imagine all the sweet, young peregrinas he has wooed from this Love Shack. It was simply too good to be true. A candy man with treats for tummy and eyes?! It was not to be; I guess no picture is truly perfect!

Soon after leaving David, we arrive at the Cruceiro de Santo Toribio on the hillside looking down over the city of Astorga. Margie lags behind chatting with some Spaniards. Mary and I descend and then (as usual) ascend up into the town the find the albergue, San Javier, at the far end of it. We've arrived at the early hour of 12:30pm. We will have a short walk out of town from here. We get a text from Margie saying that she is down at the rotary (right before entering the town) waiting for Mia and Cecelia. We tell her where to go. The albergue is a very old but renovated building next to the Hotel Gaudi and right around the corner from the Episcopal Palace (museum) designed by Gaudi. The albergue has a funky feel to it. Walking through the front door we are hit with the cool air that the old building keeps to itself. To the right is a sunken common area. There is a woman getting a massage on a table in the middle of it. A sign on the wall says "Masajes 30 minutos- 10 euro" Hmmmm....this is my kind of place. We queue up to register. We're given a coupon "to dine" at the Hotel Gaudi- pilgrims meal for 11.50euros. I ask about a massage. Yes, Japanese massage for 10 euros. Whats a Japanese massage? I have no idea, but for 10 euros, I don't care. I book one for later that afternoon. We walk up the old steps to the second floor and down to the back of the building. There's a room with 8 bunks in it. Perfect. Soon Mia and Cecelia show up, but no Margie. How could that be? She was right behind us, and Cecelia and Mia were well behind her. We save her a bunk. I shower and wash my essentials. There's a lovely courtyard to accomodate that. I hang my things up in a sunny patch of light- it will shift soon, but no matter; without rain in sight, everything should be dry by the evening. I then go to have my Japanese massage. It turns out that a Japanese massage is a massage given by a Japanese woman. I think thats it. She had very little English, so I wasn't privy to more information. I lay down on the same table, in the middle of the common area, visible to all who enter the albergue. I am fully clothed, which is a bit of a disappointment, but maybe only for me! I'm sure the rest of the pilgrims were happily spared. Before I know it, I am in a dreamlike state. Even I cannot believe the level of relaxation I am reaching. I am right on the edge of consciousness. Wow. I never get this relaxed; I am usually in so much pain when I'm having a massage. And its not as if I'm not sore anyway; I've been walking 18+ miles a day for three weeks now. How this is happening I don't know, and again I don't care. The closest I've been to this state is when they woke me up from my drug-induced nirvana after my colonscopy. It was glorious. And drug free.

After hearing about my "trip" Mary decides to sign up for a massage as well.The only available one, however, is at 9:45p or so. No matter; we will be back from the match and dinner by then. We all head into the main square. We are joined by Tino and Lynn, a delightful couple from Florida. She's a professor at UCF and Tino works for the United Way, I think. They're hip, cool, intelligent conversationalists with good senses of humor. Y'know- like us. ;) They'd fit effortlessly into Jamaica Plain. Except for the fact that they're practicing Catholics! (There aren't many of us left in JP!) The square is absolutely lovely. Buttressed at one end of the Plaza Mayor is the town hall. High at the top center of the facade are two automated figures, Maragatos named Zancuda and Colasa, striking time. Astorga is the center of what remains of Spain's Maragato culture, a tribe of people descended most likely from the Visigoths, who were trapped up in this mountainous region by the Arab invasion from the south.. Also helping to frame the plaza are cafes and business under the surrounding porticos. This is where we watched the match. It was a perfect evening; cold beer, some nibbles, a great World Cup match and super company.

Mary leaves us a bit early to get back to her scheduled massage. Apparently it was as memorable as mine, though for distinctly different reasons! Firstly, the Japanese masseuse had left. In her stead was a Spanish masseur. As in male. He of course, not only tells Mary to disrobe, but helps her with some of her clothing. This, mind you, all in the middle of the common area and in full view of the lingering pilgrims, many of whom have just finished up a meal in the adjacent kitchen. According to Mary, they were treated to a delightful beaver shot as massaged and manipulated her legs. Our only regret is that we weren't there to witness any of it! Needless to say, she returned to the room rather flushed!

Tomorrow we start to climb. Soon we'll be in Galicia. Hope to post photos soon