June 13, 2015
Lugo to Ferreira
Distance: 30 kilometers
Stairs equivalent: 34 floors
Agony level: 2
Tonight, I am in an ancient building that has been converted into a really nice albergue. There are 14 beds in my room. Eleven are occupied by Spanish men. Of those men, ten are delightful.
But first let me tell you about last night. There was a really big Spanish pilgrim in the bunk above me and it caused me genuine concern when I looked at the four spot welds that separated me from certain death by squashing. The best thing I could do was suggest to the man that he might be more comfortable on the lower bunk and that maybe we should swap. My offer pleased him to no end. As he climbed down the skinny ladder the whole bunkbed started to go end over apple cart but ‘Ol Fatty was surprisingly nimble as he leapt from the ladder to the floor. The bunkbed tottered a bit then righted itself. Fingers crossed I don’t see that man again.
Then there’s a guy whose name I don’t know and refuse to ask. Try as I might to get away from him, this big-bellied guy is like a piece of over-chewed bubble gum on the sole of my shoe, I just can’t get rid of him. He turns up in every albergue I stay at. He always has a bunk next to me. He rattles on in slurred, unintelligible Spanish. He offers me cigarettes. And his attention is a constant source of amusemrnt for my camino buddies.
I arrived at this lovely albergue mid-afternoon today and got a really nice lower bunk. Two hours later Bubble Gum arrives and what does he do but take the bunk at the foot of mine. I’ll let you know tomorrow if he tries to kiss my feet. I’ll also let you know if he has a fat lip.
I’m so pleased that most of the Spanish men on the camino are gentlemen–except when they talk football.