It started with the shots. A traditional galacian coffee liquer digestif taken after meals. The octopus was delicious, improved marvelously by the Spanish guy singing with his friends. A large open windowed timber tabled restaurant where all the pilgrims go for pulpo (octopus). Carlos’, deep chesty baritones and heart felt traditional singing was so infectious, most of the restaurant joined in applause after each song.
Afterwards he came over and touched his heart in thanks for the support, sat down and shouted us all another round of shots.
Wandering home we came across Carlos and friends at a bar and they waved us in, Carlos still singing. More wine. Carlos insisted we sing, ‘from the heart’, he mimed, touching his lips then heart. After just the appropriate quantity of wine necessary to conduct such functions, we managed to pump out a song. But not before Carlos had us clinking glasses with a Spanish salutation we later learned to be a little indecorous, much to the delight of our friends.
It was a fun finish to a wonderful day. The departure from Airexe, a small, minor stage village, put us in a people free envelope for a few hours, others most likely coming through from Portomarin, a major stage, later on.
A gorgeous, glowing morning light played on the storm washed green fields and forest as we walked in the deliciously cool air. Light morning mists carpeted the vale across from our first stop for coffee, a stone farm hamlet come restaurant in Portos. There were two other people in there.
It struck us that a universally lovely thing to do is take a morning stroll to a nice Cafe and enjoy coffee together….and that essentially this is exactly what we’ve been doing every morning since we started. Tough gig.
In Palas de Rei, pilgrims crowded the morning coffee joints as tour buses disgorged additional walkers onto the Way. We grabbed coffees at a bar where on old woollen trouser and Cardy wearing man, sipped espresso and whiskey shots while watching the pilgrims pass by.
Just out of Palas de Rei we meet Gita and Pradeep, African Indians (brother and sister) from Florida. They’d earned this trip. First time around, Pradeep’s uncle’s knees swelled up after 45min walking and they did the whole Camino by cab. Second time around, one week out, Pradeep’s wife broke her foot, so they hired a car and ferried their friends’ bags. This time around they’d finally made it…but Pradeep’s wife was cabbing it this leg with blisters. They we’re very warm curious people and we enjoyed walking and talking with them for a time.
Somewhere around Porto de Bois, we came across a sign painted with ‘Terrace’ and an arrow pointing off the path. The terrace was a grass paddock lined with oaks and eucalyptus trees with a few scattered plastic chairs and tables to which you could bring coffee and Santiago cake from the small bar across the track. We did. It was delightful.
Not far out of Melide, Buen Camino-ing a young couple, the lad said, ‘are you well, we are very well’, and the girl chimed in excitedly with, ‘I’m engaged’, and held up her ring. They walked on with springs in their a steps. We wondered where he’d popped the question.
There’s a lovely stone bridge crossing into Furelos on the borders of Melide. Crossing a lush river flat it takes walkers into briefly narrow winding village streets, then out onto the final open-pasture-climb up to Melide…in the heat of the day.
Entering the city we pass the octopus restaurant sprookers, vying for pilgrim attention and finally reach our hostel, hot, sweaty and very happy to have finally arrived.
For dinner, we went out for octopus….
