The Big Walk

Buon Camino – Day 7

Last night was the first so far when it hasn’t rained, so a lucky choice to begin our camping. We planned to use the tent most nights, but there have been few spots to put it up so far, and a total lack of official sites. We pack up at dawn, a low mist giving an eerie feel though the blue sky above points to a fine day.

Since passing Santiago there’s been a huge rise in the number of pilgrims coming towards us. No matter what their nationality and language, all say ‘Buon Camino’ before pointing back behind us with their sticks and joking ‘Santiago is that way!’ We start off explaining to everyone that we’re trying to walk from Cape Finisterre to Istanbul, but this proves time consuming in Spanish or French, and with around two hundred pilgrims passing us today it’s clear that we’d get nowhere. We resort to nodding and pretending we are on our return journey, resulting in embarrassing congratulations and much shaking of hands and pats on the back. On one occasion I shake my head and say ‘No, Santiago is behind you; you are going the wrong way!’ The instantly alarmed looks and frantic rustling of maps put me off trying it again. At least route finding now is easy. If in doubt at a junction, we merely have to wait five minutes until we see a pilgrim coming along and head that way.

One muscular, hairy bloke in ragged clothes does speak English, and reveals that he’s been walking for three months from his home in northern France. We mumble that we’ve only been going for a week but hope to continue for a year. ‘Everyone’s got to start at some point,’ he says, but he’s not jealous – he says he’s had enough of walking and can’t wait to finish. How long will our own enthusiasm last?

By afternoon the temperature is up in the high eighties, and we lie out on a shady bench by an old church, falling asleep. Adopting local customs already! Once it’s begun to cool, we continue to Melide – a large village of mostly concrete block houses. We picked up a pilgrim passport or credential in Santiago in the hope that we’ll be allowed to stay in the refugios in spite of the fact we’re going the wrong way. If questioned by Catholic volunteer staff, we’ll claim we’re making a pilgrimage to Rome – not too far from the truth. The refugio in Melide is in the old part of the village, we’re almost the last to arrive so Helen and I end up in separate dorms. We really need that shower though.