Well, I didn’t hit the road at 5 a.m., but I did actually get up at that time. I tried to be as quiet as possible while rolling up my sleeping bag so I wouldn’t wake the other hikers in the albergue. Everything else was already packed. Nacho set his alarm for the same time, just so he could wish me a safe journey. Such a sweet guy. I really hope we manage to meet up in Finisterre on Monday or Tuesday morning for a beer – that’s the plan anyway. Fingers crossed it works out.
When I stepped out of the albergue, it was pitch black. I’ll admit, I was a bit scared of the dark. There wasn’t a soul around, and the visibility was basically tomb-level. I switched on my flashlight to see where I was walking. I had to enter the woods in the dead of night – best to have music in your ears at that point because every random sound from nature will crank your paranoia up to 100. I walked in the dark for two hours. Can’t wait for eight hours of darkness on the 120 km challenge. Not. At the start of the trail today, the Virgin Mary appeared to me – metaphorically speaking – as I got to choose between a longer or shorter route. Since I’ve already done plenty of extra kilometres on this Camino, I decided to cash in my bonus miles and go with the shorter one. So instead of walking 65 km, I only had to do 54. Thank you, Almighty – or Mary.
The first half of the day was all about the wind. Blasting hard. And of course, it wasn’t pushing me forward – it was slamming straight into my chest. The invisible enemy. The second half? Pure sunburn fuel. Naturally. Wouldn’t want it to be too easy, right?
Around kilometre 20, pain hit my right ankle. Not just a dull ache, but full-on like someone was hammering a nail into it. I considered stopping around kilometre 40, but I’ve got plans tomorrow with a very fun and attractive creature, and I want to get there early so we can have more time together. So, I decided to push through. That’s where the rule kicks in – ONE BEER. It kills the pain, softens the muscles, and suddenly walking becomes bearable. So Brko and I agreed: two beers just to be safe. I was too lazy to rub in cream, and my painkillers were buried at the bottom of my backpack. Thanks to the magical powers of beer, I powered through 12 more kilometres without pain. But of course, it returned right at the end. Just like at the beginning of this journey, when it showed up on day two. Looks like it wanted to keep me company on the second-to-last day of the first challenge. Hopefully, tomorrow it stays in bed.
Since I was the first one on the trail today, I didn’t see a single person. I’m probably the only one who hiked two stages. Tonight, I’ll be sleeping in Arzúa. This is where three routes meet: Camino del Norte, Camino Francés, and Camino Primitivo – which means tomorrow’s going to be like an anthill. A whole lot of hikers.
Let’s pray.
