Somewhere Slowly

We started the day with a bit of a logistical mystery – according to my guidebook there should be a place called Hiringuito about half way, serving food and drink, but there was no sign of it on the Wise Pilgrim app. The very helpful man at reception searched Google for it, and then realised it was actually Chiringuito, a general name for a little beach hut selling icecream and such, but sadly it would be closed. So we nipped into the little shop across the square and got drinks and snacks – in my case a sixpack of granola bars – to tide us over.

The trail wove past beaches and rocks, through grassland and forests, on earth and gravel paths, over stone slabs and along a yellow (sadly not brick) road.

When we got to the chiringuito though, it was open! It was more than just a hut, in fact the perfect pitstop with tables in the sun, a good selection of hot and cold food and drinks – and toilets.

Our next stop was in Oia, where we sat in a large outside restaurant overlooking the coastline and treated ourselves to a delicious plate of monkfish and prawns, and our first Clara con limon. It was hard to get moving again … but we didn’t have far to go.

One odd thing I noticed on this day, were not one, not two, but three boatless pilot houses in people’s gardens … some sort of maritime man-cave trend, perhaps?

Finally at our albergue, we waited to check in while the hospitalero told two very tired men that there were no beds available in any of the next albergues, or the camp site, or even hotels. Hospitaleros usually have a good network and cooperate to get pilgrims a bed, but this particular day the camino was full. Still the two men refused the bunk bed by the washing machine downstairs, and chose to move on in spite of being told there were no available beds for who knows how many kms.

We were very happy we had booked – and please, if you do, cancel any bookings you don’t need, and if you are going to be late, call and confirm that you are coming. Apparently there are unspeakably rude people out there who book three different places each day and then see which one they want to go for, without cancelling the others! I know, I couldn’t believe it either. But it happens.

The hospitalero told us our options for dinner, and we went back down the road to the nearest big restaurant. However, it was so big and empty and echoey, and the menu so uninspiring, that we changed our minds and went the other way instead. There were two bars there, and we got a table at the back of one of them, where we could look out to sea and enjoy a burger. Much better!

As lovely as the day had been, the best bit was when we started chatting to two Canadian ladies who were marvelling at the novelty of sangria on tap. One had walked the Francés before, one was on her first camino. They had been doing very long stages but were slowing down a bit, so we parted saying we might meet again. (Spoiler: We did!)

Then we went back to our room, where we discovered that the plumbing made some very eerie and drawn-out screaming and rumbling noises with each flush … I dread to think what people in the albergue below must have thought!