Woke up at 5 am because someone's alarm went off, so I figured I may as well get up and get going since I was under Healing Man's (aka Josef) orders to go very slow on all the downhills. I was delighted to realize that my blister stopped hurting during the night. I got my stuff together, had a cafe con leche, yogurt and a peach, and said good bye to all the wonderful hospitalteros. It wasn't light yet but there was enough of us leaving that I could just follow the crowd. Many people recognize me and inquire about my knee. While waiting for Josef last evening, I met another patient, Susie from Italy who speaks Italian and Spanish, but no English, so we spoke in Spanish. I also met a couple from Valencia, Spain. They run a conference center in Valencia and he has traveled to the States, only the east coast. He says when he tells people in Boston or New York that he is from Spain, they think Spain is in South America. Sometimes being American is embarrassing.
So this morning was a little discouraging because I kept having intermittent sharp paid in my knee. But I kept drinking water and saying "small steps, feet forward, normal flexion" and after about five hours it stopped hurting and I was walking pretty normal. It took me a while to realize it, I had become so used to the pain. I ran into Josef twice this morning. He was checking up on another woman he treated last night who had some pretty knarly leg issue due to a motorcycle accident and some botched surgeries. He went to two stops on the way to check on her and then arranged for her to get a massage from a lady in one of the towns we went through. Then he hopped on his motorcycle and went back to Santa Domingo to treat some other pilgrims. There are some really amazing people out here.
There is this young guy with dreadlocks that I keep running into. The first few times I saw him he was yakking on his cell phone while walking. Today I introduced myself. His name is Francesco and he is Italian. I like his vibe.
I made it to Belorado in 8.5 hours. Long damn day. It's hotter than hell here, kind of like Arizona in August, sun, heat, and no shade. I'm staying at the parish Albergue which used to be a theatre. Perfect for the actress in me. After showering, laundry and siesta I walked next door to the church. Churches are always refreshing. Because they are made of thick stone. While I was sitting there this guy began to sing in this beautiful voice. The acoustics in the church made it even more incredible. First he sang Ave Maria, one of my favorites. Then he began Amazing Grace and I knew I was right where I was supposed to be. I started crying. I don't cry often, maybe once every ten years, but I was just so damn grateful.
Now I'm sitting in a bar watching the Spain Russia basketball game. Spain just caught up and the electricity went out. Oh dear. It's back on now.
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