July 17: Villadangos del Páramo to Astorga

Well, this has been an interesting day!

We had a pretty long way to go today, but there were lots of villages where I could catch a bus if I needed to. We headed out about 6:30 this morning, and like yesterday Niles and Emlyn went ahead, and Marty and I took it a bit slower.

Not much of note about the bulk of the day. The weather was very nice--very cool in the morning, and fairly warm in the later part of the day, but not oppressive. The terrain was prettier today than it has been in a while, we´re getting out of the meseta, which means leaving the flat wheat fields behind. The sky is just an amazing shade of rich blue, with a few clouds, and the fileds alternate between corn, hay, wheat and something I couldn´t quite identify.

I started out feeling pretty good, and confident of being able to walk the whole way today. I did eventually start feeling the pain in both my shin and in the neuroma in my right foot (opposite legs--keeps me walking balanced, at least, with the pain alternating from side to side).

We encountered only a few peregrinos along the way, each one passing us or greeting us with the standard Camino greeting, "Buen Camino!" It´s interesting to me how, no matter how often we hear it, or how fast the greeter is going (some pilgrims are biking the Camino), the greeting always sounds and feels quite sincere, and is always a little blessing. It also feels good and right when we answer, "Buen Camino!" in return. In the villages, the residents will often greet us the same way. I always answer, "Gracias! Buenas Dias!" Again, it´s cool how it never feels like a matter of form, but like a matter of passing on blessing.

Marty and I made it to Astorga about 2:30--again, about 2 hours later than Emlyn and Niles. We were pretty tired, but walked past several albergues to find the one Niles had read (in the guide he´s carrying) was the best. Glad we made the effort; this place is lovely and restful, and very well equipped, including a great kitchen and dining area.

Em went to the store to shop for dinner, which she offered to cook. I took a power nap and Marty journaled, and Niles continued the nap he was taking when we got here. I woke up to find dinner nearly ready: pork chops simmered in chicken stock, with apples and sauteed onion, plus spinach salad. There was also pasta another group had made, they had a good deal extra, and left it on the stove with a note that it should be eaten by anyone who would like it. So we added it onto our menu. (We had more spinach and tomatos than we could use, and left them on the shelf in the fridge labeled "free food." This works very well!) Em also picked up a very nice red wine for about 2.50 euros; the wine here is amazingly inexpensive for very good wines--usually much cheaper than water.

Dinner was lovely. Afterward, as I was helping Emlyn dry dishes, a gentleman asked us if anyone was interested in getting a massage. I had noticed earlier several peregrinas getting a "Japanese Massage: 45 minutes for 10 euros" and had been pretty tempted. The massage table was right out in the middle of everything, right next to the dining table and between the kitchen and the front entrance desk. The clients were generall covered by towels, but not much else, and I has been wondering--well--how they got there.

This guy wasn´t offering Japanese massage, but I figured a massage couldn´t but help the tendonitis and general aches, and it would probably be much like the massage I had at the albergue a few days ago. He was offering to do back, legs and feet--awesome. So I said yes.

*TOO MUCH INFORMATION ALERT*

There may be certain pictures you just don´t want in your head. You know--like the very, very large man in the albergue last night who was wearing only underwear that was at least 3 sizes too small. So if you´d rather not have those pictures, you may want to stop reading now. Tomorrow´s blog will be equally wonderful, I´m sure.

So yeah, I walked over the the table. Now remember, we pack very, very light on the Camino. I am generally am wearing a grand total of two layers. The therapist promply invited me to divest myself of the top layer.

I hesitated. But then I thought, "Well, people have been doing this all day. And I know I´m American. This is Spain. Standards of modesty in Spain must be more...hmmmm...European. And we´ve been living in dorms with strangers dressing and undressing at about this level for 3 weeks now, so what´s the big deal?" After all, this is just one more exercise in receiving what the Camino has to offer--right?

I of course assumed that as soon as I lay down, he would modestly drape me with one of those nice towels. Wrong again. I lay on my stomach, and the first thing he did was remove any remaining barriers to working on those knots in my back.

This in front of the nice French family who had just finished cooking their dinner and sat down at the table--which was up about a half level up overlooking the sort of conversation-pit area where the massage table was. They must have had an absolutely....stunning is the only word I can think of....view.

He began working on loosening my hams and other large muscles in the legs. I couldn´t decide between keeping my eyes tighly closed (easy to do, since I was face down) and shouting an apology to the nice French family. I opted for the denial squinching of the eyes, and gratitude that no one could actually see my face, at least.

The massage was actually wonderful. He worked on back and legs and feet (heaven!), and I thought that was it. Evidently humiliation tends to stretch time, however; I wasn´t done yet. He invited me to turn over.

You know that dream? The one where you definitely aren´t adequatelly dressed for the context? And you keep hoping you´ll wake up, but you don´t, so you finally (in the dream) decide that--horror of horrors--this is the one time it actually came true, and you really are where you are afraid you are? But then (thank heaven!) you do wake up and are so happy to discover that you haven´t publicly humiliated yourself, and you actually can still look all the people you´re going to see that day in the face?

I didn´t wake up.

The only alternative seemed to be opting for keeping my eyes tightly closed. The massage therapist did, at least, re-establish the pertinant parts of the remaining layer before I turned. Thile he continued with various stretches for which I wanted to keep apologizing to the nice French family. I suppose I could have told him to stop. But it felt so daggone good to get the kinks worked out, and people did this all the time, and I´m probably way too obsessed with what people are thinking about my 53-year-old self, and he didn´t speak English anyway--so I just kept my eyes closed and focused on receiving what the Camino brings.

About then the Camino chose to bring me a visit from a somewhat odd older gentleman who seemed insistent on inviting me to join him in the plaza for bread and wine. Right there. With me dressed in one layer and a towel that covered--well, probably the most important parts, at least. By the way, this made the second time he had approached me, and I was not comfortable the first time, when I was just sitting out on the patio. Just, ouch.

At that point, Marty sent Emlyn in to make sure I was ok. (She told me he had invited her, as well. Ouch again.) She asked if I needed anything, attempting to keep the smile on her face encouraging and supportive but falling dangerously close to smirking. I told her I was fine, and she continued to fight for control--at which point I pretty much lost it altogether. I told her to leave because she was harshing my mellow. She just laughed again. But she left.

Focus on receiving all that the Camino has to offer. Right.

The very nice non-English-speaking massage therapist offered to extend the massage by giving me a face massage--an additional 20 minutes for 3.50. I thought maybe if I stayed there long enough, everyone who had seen me at the beginning might have left and I could get out with some shred of dignety. So I accepted.

When you think about it, I ended up with over an hour massage (he went longer than the minimum) for about 15 euro. That´s quite the deal, and I have to say I felt absolutely wonderful a the end. Except for the getting up, getting the top layer re-established, and actually having to look at the people all around me at the end.

Maybe tomorrow they´ll all have shinsplints and won´t be able to walk, and this is the last time I´ll see them. Ever. One can hope.

There is a bright side. At least it was all over before the group of teenage boys arrived.

Hope your Camino brings you something surprising--and wonderful--today! ^/^