Day 35: Fonsagrada to A Cadavo (27,6k)
- Frida Stavenow
- Oct 11, 2022
- 2 min read
That kind of day. Six hours. Relentless. Two pairs of socks. Two failed plastic bag experiments. No albergues. Just kilometre upon kilometre of rain, rain, rain.
But not that kind of night. Not only does the sky clear up, and the sun peek out long enough for me to dry my sleeping bag if not socks. But I also talk to my hardest-to-get-hold-of sister, and when I return to the (€8!) albergue, everyone is drinking wine. Beard Braid, Waffles, Fellow Ecuadorian Ayahuasca Soul Sister, a cute younger German psychologist, a Czech guy who perhaps got unfairly bundled up with the Czech guy who refused to do dishes, some new Spanish men, and! Obnoxious Meathead! I’ve had two Coca-Colas and a coffee, so high on caffeine I allow myself to be lured into a conversation about ayahuasca and then I chat to him and his two almost-as-loud Spanish sidekicks for almost two hours over wine and €0,65 vegetable soup.
Turns out dude is not a banker at all, but a bartender in a “techno party” and some kind of driver. He’s really polite and inquisitive during the convo and I start to feel a bit bad about how annoyed I’ve been with him. Especially as I think he may have overheard me bitch about him to Waffles the other day. Bad pilgrim me. That probably hurt. He still badgers everyone else in the albergue all the time, and me when others are present, but if it’s just the two of us he looks sad and says nothing. Ouch. I’m reminded that dude is just another poor human, even if he happens to talk a little loud. He even fiddles with some kind of rubber ring so is probably neurodiverse, too. I really need to be kinder.
But I feel like it’s happening. It’s a funny Camino learning, but really, everyone wants to connect. Even the sour-faced French oldie who sits in a corner staring angrily at the single pot you’ve just used to cook up a bunch of pasta. Note to self: always invite him. He may pretend like he wants you to wash up the pot so he can use it, but really, he just wants to hang. Everyone does. Like Miranda July said, nobody belongs here more than you.
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