The Three Musketeers

I walk mainly through fairy-like forests.  Big wild mushrooms grow together here and there. It is easy to believe that fairies exist when I look at this world.

When I go through one of the villages, a women pushing a wheelbarrow comes from the opposite direction.  It is full of grapes.  I greet her.  She tells me to take a bunch.  When I thank her, she laughs.  It seems that in the smaller communities people are used to sharing what they have. 

Later on during the day, I notice a walnut on the ground.  I crack it open, very un-lady like, with my boot and eat it.  I notice several others and pick-up six in total!  A little treasure I keep for later.

I come to an Albergue situated in a village with two houses and a street. There is no store, no restaurant.  The hospitaleira, a Spanish women, explains that the private Albergue a few kilometres away, will come and collect us by car and after dinner bring us back.  There is no charge for the transport, only the dinner, which is the standard price.

There is a Brazilian couple, a Swedish astronomer, an Austrian youth worker, three Spanish young men and a South African donkey ambassador.

We are squashed into the car.  I suddenly realise that this is the first time in five weeks that I have gone anywhere without walking!  One of the Spanish pilgrims is rather amazed. They only started their Camino in Ponferrada, about a week´s walk.  

Later through dinner, we have animated talks.  The Austrian youth worker speaks Austrian German, English, Latin and ancient Greek.  He is learning Spanish on the Camino.  A discussion follows about the words pimientos (sweet peppers) and pimienta (pepper). The conversation is mostly in English, which is then translated into Spanish and Portuguese. The Swedish astronomer keeps mostly to himself.  He is vegetarian and finds it hard in Spain to keep to his vegetarian diet. I learn that all three Spanish pilgrims are unemployed. One is a primary school teacher, the other one is a Human Resource officer, now doing is Masters Degree, and the third one has something to do with accounting. All three are from Andalusia. I tell them I would like to visit Andalusia, and specifically the city of Granada and the Alhambra of course. They seem a little surprised. I tell them of one of my favourite classic music pieces: Recuerdos de Alhambra, by Spanish composer Francisco Tarrega.

The food is good, home made. The Galician soup, made of potatoes, kale cabbage, and this time, with chunks of port meat, is a feast.  And this is just the first course!

After dinner we are driven back to the Albergue. I sit in front next to the driver and ask him to thank the old lady in the kitchen, for the food was really delicious.  He says that the Galician soup is good for the body, and for the soul! I say.  He laughs, yes for the soul indeed!

I set out early in the morning in pouring rain.  As I walk through the forest, I switch off my flash light for a while. I am in complete darkness and absolute silence, except for the little stream running along the path, formed by the rain water.  After I switch on the flash light, I notice that the cows in the field are standing together under a tree, avoiding as much of the rain as they can.  I slip and fall.  For a moment a sit in the rain and do a mental check:  no pain, no blood.  All is good.  I struggle to get up with my back pack. I am now completely drenched.

Later in the day, the three young Spanish men pass me. One complains that it is not a good day, it is raining and they are wet!  They have walking sticks made out of branches picked up along the way. 

They possess that special something and camaraderie seldom seen in today´s youth and I know they will excel in what ever they choose to do in life.  

When they pass me, I notice that they have the exact same yellow ponchos flapping in the wind.  Los Tres Mosqueteros! I shout after them. Two turn around and smile.  The middle one, the tallest of the three, the primary school teacher, without missing a beat, lifts his sword and the other two follow suite, placing their swords on top of the teacher´s.  I can almost hear them say 'Uno por todos y todos por uno' (One for all, all for one).  They walk like that for a moment.  I smile.

Later on, I see the last of the yellow poncho flapping in the wind as they turn a bend in the road.

Buen Camino Athos, Portos and Aramis!

Jovita

17 October 2013