Apparently since there is a steady supply of caca de vaca that is what they use here to fertilize their fields, unprocessed, except by the cows. It's like walking between fields of Woodstock hippies with they pungent stench of body odor, wet dog odor and drenching patchouli oil. lol
I had an up close and personal experience with the vacas today. I was going through a village path that was pretty narrow and ran into ten to twelve vacas just hanging out on the path. They warn in the guide book not to make sudden or loud movements that might scare them because they could run and hurt themselves I waited until a space and walked I walked in front of two of them and behind two of them, reminding myself the whole time that, unlike horses, cows don't kick unless they are bulls saddled with a sharp object under the saddle and a person in the saddle kicking with spurs and yelling intended to make them buck
A man in the bar, about half way through today's walk, had café con cognac at 11am! Sounded good to me I used to love café and cognac. But then I probably wouldn't get down off this mountain or back to the United States for that matter. I drank my café con leche and ate my Tarta de Santiago and thought about how grateful I am today to not only have choices, but to have the ability to make the ones that serve me and are not self destructive. Mr Burple agrees. He' grateful he doesn't have to carry me off the mountain. lol
I think I'm trying to eat my way across Galicia. Today for lunch I had a carne asada empanada. They are different here than at home. They are like a big (about the size of a medium or large pizza) double crusted thin pie. They are usually tuna or carne asada. It was yummy, but too big. I could only eat half of it. For dinner I am having Caldo Gallego which is a hearty soup broth with vegetables and queso gallego.
Today I saw a couple, probably in their fifties on the Camino with their adult daughter who I think has down syndrome. At first I saw them from behind and wondered why two adults were holding onto another adult going down a hill. I thought maybe the erson in the middle had balance or vision problems Later when I went by them I was humbled. Even later in the day when I thought about it and the love involved, I got tears in my eyes. This darn Camino is working on me.
When I got to Portomarín, I mean literally as I was approaching the bridge to cross onto the town, I saw a crowd gathered at the foot of the bridge a the flashing blue lights of the Civil Guardia. I thought there had been an accident. Then I saw a whole bunch of police motorcycles going across the bridge an lots of people on the bridge and a big crowd on the other side of the bridge. I squeezed myself onto the bridge so I could get to the town, squishing past people, when all of a sudden hundreds of bicycles came across the bridge, followed by a ton of cars with extra bikes and wheels on their roof and police vans. Apparently, this was some big bike race through Galicia called Vuelta España or something. I thought of Rick. Then I got grumpy because it is hard to move through crowds with a backpack and walking sticks going up steep stairs with people stopping mid step in front of you. But I got over it, found the Albergue and did my usual shower and laundry and now I'm on my way to the store.
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