Day 31: Tineo to Borres (18,8k)

I sleep like a baby in the €5 Tineo public albergue (or “muni” as it is called in Camino; short for “municipal”), which, after two days in the (totally worth it) €16 Hostel Rural La Figal de Xugabolos feels like some well-needed frugality. Plus, how can you argue with a breakfast like this?

Who needs freshly squeezed orange juice and cats, right.

The big talkie this morning is whether or not to walk via Hospitales the next day, a high mountain route that’s commonly referred to as “the epitome of the Primitivo” but which (not coincidentally) includes an ascent from 600m to 1200m on about 10k. I am so proud of myself that these things mean something to me now. Anyway the route is not recommended in bad weather, and heavy rains are forecast. What to do? As usual, I feel these decisions are best left for the Camino to make and so eventually I leave the Portuguese-German-Greek-Czech discussion at the breakfast table to just start walking.

Today’s route heads up into the mountains, too, though plateauing at the more humble 600-metre mark. Initial views are semi-promising.

However, there are horses. Furry, bootylicious ones. The kind I learnt during my time with Lucy are almost exclusively used for meat. Oh well.

Waffles and I are worried about getting a space at the muni in Borres, as Samblismo is already fully booked and after that there’s not a hostel to be found for another 25 incredibly steep, probably foggy and completely unserviced kilometres. According to Fake Vegan, who’s two days ahead of us now thanks to him going primitive and us going tripping, there’s water at 18k. But that’s it.

So after reuniting at a cafe in Campiello we push ahead for the last five kilometres at Waffles-pace, which is a lot even for my 34” legs. We get to the muni and we are arrivals two and three for a 16-bed dorm. I need to stop worrying about these things.

Registration for the muni is in a bar, so we decide to award ourselves with a beer before walking over to the actual place now that we know we’re home safe. Beer is good so we order another. Then hot chocolate. With a bit of rum in it. About two hours later, we walk to the albergue, “just over there,” which turns out to be a whole seven minutes’ walk away. How can they do this to us. Miraculously, we make it there, and I barely manage to have a shower before crashing into one of the baby-blue plastic-sheeted beds, where I read “Wild” for about thirty seconds before I fall asleep.

I’ve been asleep for about eight glorious minutes when The World’s Loudest Man enters and starts talking about his Barcelona banking business. What a cunt. I wake up with my blood boiling and demonstrably read Wild while ignoring his conversation with the other two Spaniards. After about five minutes, he asks if I’m okay. Resting bitch face successful. He’s tall and muscular and keeps making jokes about his friend wanting to sleep with the dog brought by a British-Indonesian couple. It’s been years since I’ve been so annoyed. I take a deep breath and tell myself it’s a spiritual challenge. He’s a spiritual teacher. Just a spiritual teacher I decide to staunchly ignore for the remainder of the evening.

We do however pick up some pertinent information from Obnoxious Meathead’s need to chat with everyone in the albergue: by trusting that “the Camino will decide,” we’ve missed the last supermarket until Berducedo (those infamous 25 bad kilometres further ahead). It’s gonna be the hardest day so far and there is nothing but water at 18k. Also, the bar we had banked on visiting in the morning for some hot tortilla and mountain weather intel has informed us it won’t open until 10:30, so we’re in a bit of a pickle. We can take the high mountain route, but there won’t be any supplies. Or we can go the long way around, with supplies and an albergue halfway. But then we’d miss the epitome of the Primitivo.

So what happens? Young Gun Waffles volunteers to walk back 2,7 kilometres to Campiello and get us supplies for the next day + dinner. What a hero. We then sneakily cook our pasta and tomato sauce in the private albergue next door, where one half of the dog-owning couple have booked in, since they have a kitchen. This goes well if you discount a small altercation with the landlady plus a minor blow-up between two male diners about washing up. Awks.

Heading back to our (again, €5!) dorm Waffles says it feels like walking back to your dorm after a university party at another dorm. And to think I came here for penance.

#albergues #CherylStrayed #soulsearching #LucyRees #drinking #CaminodelNorte #travel #hiking #CaminodeSantiago #annoyingpeople