Where is the Hydrangea Hedge?

On the Road to Santiago

Day five began with a morning walk from Arzua to our lunch spot in Salceda. Our marker for finding the Restaurante A Esquipa was to look for the hydrangea hedge along the road in Salceda. We ambled along easy rolling pathways gently heading downward-most of the way- through farms and forest. 

T-shirt weather warmed the body minus hot sweat. 

Where Am I? Oregon?

Sunlight filtered down upon the lush and verdant 

terrain. Lovely blue sky and fluffy white clouds high above cheered us as we chatted and walked.

A Gentleman

A man in country garb led his cows along the road we shared. His smile was pleasant. He struck a natural pose. His calm assurance suggested he knew he was a snazzy dresser and photogenic. He made my photo day. I am certain he enjoyed the contact with us and the many before us.

His cows gave us plenty of room. We did not seem to ruffle their calm. Pilgrims and tourists like us must be a commonplace event in the routine of their lives.

Happy Cows?

Good news. We came upon a small cantina that served snacks and, more importantly, diet coke. Of course, the Brits were ahead of us and not huffing at all.

Ladies and a Bostonian guy

Onward in search of the hedge we went, our bodily needs addressed for the moment. It is all about making it to lunch. The path slanted slightly upward in a gentle rise to Salceda which meant our stride must push us forward and up. Beware, we learned. Names are precise. We reached a village with Salceda in the name so we crossed the highway and headed toward the buildings. But, no hydrangeas and no restaurant. I used my Spanish to ask directions from a truck driver just as a far-sighted person spotted the blooms down the highway about a quarter of a mile away. We picked up the pace and welcomed the lovely patio where we gathered together until called in to lunch.

At Last, the Hydrangea Hedge

Our vegetarian friend subsisted daily on the traditional egg and potato tortillas and ensaladas. Alas, the ensalada usually included tuna. Today she received a surprise. No tortilla.  Instead, a lovely plate of grilled tomatoes and peppers. Siempre! Where is the protein?

Vegetarian Plato Supremo

A Happy Vegetarianess 

My lunch included a first plate with broad green beans and ham. I ate almost half of the very large plate of beans. Delicious. Perhaps that is what doomed me for disaster.

Pazo de Santa Maria

Our resting place for the afternoon and evening was the restored Pazo de Santa Maria near Arzua. The garden pool and fountain offered a contemplative    spot for resting, reading and ruminating about the walk that would end in Santiago the following day.

Peaceful Pool Amid Farm and Countryside

What an idyllic spot! Beware! The  dark cloud hovers! One small glitch involved the dinner plans. Because we were outside of the town we chose to pick up food and drink in Arzua and planned to share our bounty at the inn. Unbeknownst to all, the inn had just begun a restaurant on the premises, so we were not allowed to bring in our own food and drink. Finally, rested and cleaned-up, we all decided to head back to town for a simple meal of tapas. Big glitch number two for me! Just as the cars were loading up for the drive, I made a pit stop. The stop lasted until the wee hours of the morning. Within my four-room guest house, sounds were heard throughout the night. Eight of fourteen people were hit with a "bug." Thankfully, our guides checked with a doctor in town and returned with an orange powder to be drunk in two liters of water, plus bottles of Aquarius. The doctor told them that many travelers were coming in with the same symptoms. Even though the orange stuff and the Aquarius did settle my body, I did not walk into Santiago on Saturday. 

The Monument Greets us at Our Hotel

The ghost of myself wandered around the hotel numb with exhaustion. I went in search of chicken to eat and returned to the Rua Bella, my first cafe in Santiago more than a week ago. The waiter wanted to help me with my order of plain chicken. Still, it arrived breaded and fried and swimming in butter, but I ate a little and returned to the hotel.

We Dine in the Medieval Cave 

Our finale dinner was set in a medieval cave in our sumptuous hotel. Still weak, I arrived a zombie. My photos of the roasted chicken, a special order for the ill, and our group blurred like my fuzzy head. I left in search of my bed without saying god-bye. Paul rushed after me and gave me a hug. I should have guessed that meant I might not see everyone in the morning. 

Last on our tour itinerary was breakfast on Sunday morning. Alas, I saw only a few people to say my goodbyes to. I was left without a finale. Words of gratitude were left unsaid to the best of guides and the best of walkers. They so enriched my journey.  

A taxi took me to the bus station where I hopped on the crowded 9:00 A.M. bus to Finesterre. Now  I am on my way on my own to the end of the world.

MANY THANKS TO THE PAUL FRANCIS 

WALKS IN SPAIN TOURS

YOU ARE WONDERFUL!!!

Walking The Way My Way

                  

Day 4 Ligonde to Leboreiro (past Casanova)
Charlemagne stayed in Logonde, they say

One challenge from John Brierly in his "A Pilgrim's Guide the to the Camino Francės" asks the pilgrim to seek, not "the stone altar of the tourist, but an altered state." What did I find? Plastic flowers! After passing  through a few fields a wonderful caramel cow led us down through his farm. In a small village  we stopped to take photos of the thousands of plastic flowers eternally decorating the graves in  the church's cemetery and at the same time cheering up the earthen buildings and dirt. At least, that is what I did. When I turned around to head back on the path, I was alone.  For the first time, I was alone on the camino.

Plastic flowers distract me

The Church of Santa Maria

My steps became longer and my pace faster, as I hurried to catch the other Americans. Ten minutes later, the calm around me invited me to "enjoy what you find." The walk became personal. The walk was serene. My eyes wide open, I soaked in the countryside. Pilgrims passed me with both poles swinging, many alone, many chatting with others. I stayed my course.

Feet hurt? Grab at taxi

Me the tourist slept soundly every night in firm, clean beds and ate three meals a day in quaint inns or restaurants. The pilgrims suffer long days and nights. Lumpy beds and erratic meals and hunts for water can be common occurrences. My feet were blister free and my socks, etc. clean. The pilgrims slog up hills and might encounter mucky trails. blistering heat or downpours. And walk for many weeks. My skies were blue , except in the cloud, and the paths were dryLuckily, taxi rescue is a phone call away for those who are momentarily worn out.. Shirley MacLaine was known to take a bus now and then. Not to mention fleeing from the paparazzis by car.