21. Sarria to Melide 28/7/12

It was a slow start this day as it looked like it was going to rain and it was cold.  I was awake early as there had been an argument in the street for about half an hour and for some reason I thought it was about 6am so got up. I thought I'd heard people from the albergue leave already - and normally the first ones get on their way about 5.30am. I tiptoed out to the lounge with my laptop and then saw it was only 4am. I was already wide awake so stayed up and had an interesting morning chatting to the people that were up early.

I took a coffee and cig outside and watched people getting ready for their walk.

Phil from Scotland rubbing his feet with a pumice before getting his shoes on for the day's walk

Phil's dad getting all his blisters taped up for the day

This woman is doing her stretches before starting walking

This was the only day's cycling that I didn't enjoy - and I think because it was cold. It seemed to zap my energy. I had my sweatshirt on and my cycling jacket but the wind still seemed to get to me.  I didn't feel like cycling on dirt and stones on the camino so opted to go on the roads instead. If I'd gone on the forest paths it probably would have not been so windy.  It was a struggle to do the first 10 kms before stopping for a coffee and a cig, then luckily Jeff rang me 5 kms later so that was another excuse to stop for  a while.  I then stopped for another coffee a few more kms up the road and then realized I was hungry so stopped at a cafe for this breakfast:

Breakfast of champions - one clara, one bochidilla with bacon and cheese and 2 cigarettes

I didn't really take many photos in the morning as it seemed to grey and cold but these are the ones I did take:

I took the bridge one for you Jeff

An English man and his cart

The camino path went up those steps so I thought, 'sod that'.

Another cart - this was made out of a pram or push chair

The weather in the afternoon fined up a bit and it even looked like the sun might come out. It was very much an up, down, up, down day on the bike.  They were only smallish hills but they didn't stop.

You had to have good eyes to see the yellow arrow on this wall

I loved these dirt paths that weren't rocky. In the afternoon I went back on the camino mostly.

Cemetery

It was 5pm by the time I reach Melide and then it took me another half hour to find the albergue and get checked in.  The woman running the albergue said I could bring my bike into the reception area. I made the mistake of not taking off the panniers first, probably because I was tired and it just seemed easier to wheel the bike straight in.  But it was a bit tricky as I had to turn the bike after getting it in the doorway to then get it up the 5 or 6 steps - and there wasn't a lot of room for me with the panniers still on. By the time I realized I'd done it the wrong way I was already jammed in the turning bit inside the door.  I was happy to see a pilgrim walk in so I just presumed he'd help me by lifting the back of the bike or pushing it.  He didn't. I turned around and he had his arms crossed like he was mad that he couldn't get passed.  Anyway, I got my bike up but thought 'you rude bugger'.

When I got out the shower I saw that the rude bugger was in the same dorm room as me and was asleep.  In the bed next to me was a lovely couple from NZ (Antoinette and James) who have just retired.  We went and had a beer and then went out for dinner together.  Melide is famous for its octopus - or pulpo as the Spanish call it.  I couldn't wait to try it.  

The waitress at the Pulpo restaurant told us that her favorite dish on the menu was pig ears.  So I ordered that and James ordered the octopus and we were going to share.  Antoinette warned me that he was not good at sharing and was good at eating. I told her he'd found his match.  The pig ears were weird as they were, as expected, a bit rubbery and a bit crunchy - but I'm so pleased I've tried them. The octopus was devine. 

Antoinette and James

Us girls having a wine out of our wine bowls

Octopus cooking

About to be chopped up

About to be eaten

Potato and pig ears

We were unsure what time the albergue closed but still stopped at a bar on the way home to have a shooter.

Some lads on the way home

During dinner I told Antoinette and James about the rude guy in our dorm.  They told me that he was Danish and absolutely shattered when he got in. He'd walked 34 kms initially to the town he wanted to stay in - and when he reached there he was already shattered and his blisters on his feet were really bad - but there was no accommodation in that town - so he had to walk another 9km on his bad feet to get to our albergue.  They told me that he could hardly speak and just put his bag down and crashed on his bed and then let out a big sigh.

So I promised I'd cut him some slack the next day.