January 24, 2026

It's a cold and sunny Saturday morning  The streets are empty of people like I remember from childhood. I walk down streets I have no memory attached to, though they are close enough to where we once lived and the school I attended one year, that I must have run down them with the neighborhood kids when we made up elaborate running games to pass the time before nightfall in the summers, or walking home from school sharing secrets with friends before we parted ways.  There's the place that used to be a toy store, or the theatre I got cast in couple of musicals when I was in 8th grade.  The oak tree that splits traffic flow and the church where I was baptized when I was 9 year's old.  There are the houses where we had slumber parties or the one where my mom traded Sweet Williams varieties with her friend. The places that shape your life in subtle ways.  Patterns and memory, significant in that you spent your time here, rather than there 

I only meant to take a short break, to go get trash bags, the big kind and maybe some coffee that tastes better than the dregs from yesterday. So much still to be done.  Yet the sun and coffee beckon, and it's,"Oh, I'm close to that house we lived in for a year, or where my friend lived, the friend whose parents grew vegetables and we picked ears of corn and ate them in the yard, or the hill we ran down with umbrellas and tarps seeing if we could get airborne if we ran fast enough against the wind.".I ended up at the beach. 

I want to remember you and in the rush to clean, to give away a lifetime of possessions and things that held some meaning to you, I feel you being erased.  Too fast.  Too much of a shock.  Not enough honor.  In this state, so soon, how will I remember you?

So, I'm here, in this now busy coffee shop, writing this rather than cleaning out a closet. Feeling the warmth of sun through the glass, knowing I have to move along. No closer in knowing what I do now, or how to honor and remember you, both publicly and when I'm alone.  And time feels short, so I need to move along.

Nostalgia

 I went to McDonald's yesterday.  Mom wanted a hamburger and fries.  The original one was torn down and remodeled, blends in with the neighborhood more, no longer red.

It opened in 1976, to quite a bit of fanfare. It was the first major fast food franchise in town, first of many. (Years later I remember reading that my hometown wasn't worth mentioning in a guidebook.  Just a bunch of fast food joints along the highway between Deception Pass and Coupeville.)

We had three local places: Kow Korner, Michalob's (I can't recall the exact name, I think it had formerly been an A&W's, and still served root beer in a "frosted mug" and had the old car hop stands for ordering, also no longer functioning, and closed within a year or two after McDonald's opened) and my favorite, Arctic Circle down by City Beach (might've been a franchise out of Oregon, as they still existed there after the local one closed.) Of the three Kow Korner lasted the longest. We used to go there after the end of berry season, everyone got a hamburger or ice cream or something, and they gave out awards, or announced who the fastest pickers were.  It's now a bank.

Anyway, it was a year of Summer Olympics, and McDonald's had scratch cards that if team USA medaled in listed event, you could get free food, depending on if it were gold, silver, or bronze.  Maybe gold equalled a Big Mac? So, we'd sit around watching the Olympics and run down when our tickets matched a win. I think we won medals in boxing and track. It was the Olympics of the first perfect 10 in gymnastics where Nadia Comaneci and Nellie Kim dominated, eclipsing Olga Korbut.

I don't remember much else about that summer. We'd just moved into the house at the end of the school year, and I'd switch to my fourth school at the end of the summer, and since I was bullied all year at the previous school, any place else was an improvement.

It was the bicentennial of the Declaration of Independence and I flew on my first plane when my mom, sister and I went to El Paso to visit my grandmother later in the summer. And most of my memory of that was sticking to the hot bus seats to go to the Base and eating deep-fried burritos and grape juice in the X-change cafeteria.  And one of the planes was a DC 10. 

Anyway, I bought her food, and then changed my mind and bought a Shamrock shake, nostalgic and overly sweet, but I finished it. I haven't had one since high school.

Mom said she was expecting lettuce or tomato, but I think that's a different burger joint, across town.

Some time later

When I'm in the kitchen I remember late nights measuring out pills, and later, syringes of meds to keep on the four-hour cycles. Afraid of being alone with you. Afraid it would be beyond me to keep you safe. Every time you attempted to pull yourself out of bed when your legs could no longer bear you up. And later when you slept all the time, wishing I had real conversations with you and not just fighting with you to make you understand you could no longer walk. That you were already home. That you didn't need to take care of anything at 3 in the morning.

I remember how you wanted to wash dishes as a way to contribute when your world had shrunk. How I snuck into the kitchen and rewashed then because they were never quite clean.

On the Amtrak I saw your birds and thought to tell you they haven't flown north yet for the year. Remembered the fields where they were flocking, to tell you. On the day before your funeral driving up in between squalls I saw a rainbow, and then on the side of the highway the  end of the rainbow bent into someone's front yard.  So mundane, and somehow appropriate. How an eagle circled the funeral home before the service. How it snowed after. How the deer visited every night and stood out the window, and on a night before you passed on, when we looked back after you received last rites the does were standing there watching, feet away, as if they wanted to bear witness to your leaving, too.

I'm sitting on the couch where I kept myself awake half of every night, wondering how long we could go on like this and knowing there was no other choice. Finding it within ourselves to carry on, knowing that's how we love.

After

The wind blows a lot where I grew up, and almost never where I live now. Not in the same buffeting that you feel give force against your body as you walk, or riffles through your clothing draining any warmth you had.

I look for new places that don't conjure memories, the building up of small losses almost imperceptible until they fall like an avalanche upon you and bury you in grief.  Still, eating tacos now, I remember several years ago saying I was going to buy a taco and you handed me money to buy you some, too. You were confused by the soft corn street tacos, not sure how to eat them.  I suppose I wanted you to try something new that you might like. You thought I was going to Taco Bell for hard shell tacos.  Later, I checked myself and asked the shop for hard shells plus ground beef, not necessarily on the menu, but they made it. I wanted you to have something that you liked.  And later still, even places you liked you could barely eat a third of what you asked for.  I would say you were winding down, but then remember that in high school I could eat a whole pizza in one sitting, and I can't do that now.

I walked to the thrift store to pick up something to read, found a blazer that fit and some nice t-shirts.  They gave me the senior discount.  Yesterday, waiting for a bus at a transfer station in the sudden snow, with my backpack, I think I was seen as a homeless 20-something, a couple kept asking if I was alright and if I needed a ride somewhere.  In truth I had an hour wait, and then a family friend called and offered to come get me.  Maybe the couple meant well...but it was a bus stop.  Not unusual to be waiting for a bus.  Still, it's so interesting how you're perceived based on surrounding circumstances.  The shorthand conclusion is easy, makes sense with all the information we have to constantly process, still, how much are we ever right about each other? What's hidden under the surface we bother to know?

Always the wait

 The lines to check in, the lines for a toilet, the lines to board...and always aware of the privilege it is to travel at all.

Last couple of days have felt the urge to start wearing g a mask when I step through a door. Not wearing one now, people sneezing and coughing around me; might be time to start.  Back to "normal" life, whatever that is now.

If last year I couldn't quite leave the shore, this year, while a shorter vacation I definitely did, to the point of not being able to imagine the life I'm returning to.  Does anything change?  Does that life fit?

And in other things, I'm an anxious person.  All the ways I'm not well have not changed: my arm keeps going numb, and I'm still sick to the stomach everyday now going on three months.

Memories and Summer

I'm sitting in a bar in Ballard. Ordering food. It's Sunday, I came back for the Seafood Fest because I volunteered a Friday night pouring beer and got a free meal ticket, that I came back to use today. A friend's band was playing so I stayed to listen as I haven't been out in four years. "Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory" is playing without sound on the screen in the bar and I remember I used to love this movie and make everyone watch it in college.  A local celeb is two tables over facing me.  I used to come here all the time. Lately, I haven't done much of anything. I've lost myself. 

Had another shitty work review, peer reviews said they didn't trust I was capable of getting things done, and people don't feel they can ask me things.  Also something about saying stuff isn't my job which I've never done; I don't tend toward entitled though I do tend to panic.  Staying late to get work done showed my incompetence, even though it was because I was interrupted all day and stayed to finish work that needed to be done.  I wasn't asking for brownie points.

In other parts of my life, I got elected/entrusted with being president of church council and we just hired a new pastor as of today.  Someone trusts me.

June 28, 2023

 We lose ourselves in increments, a mourning for all things lost.  Has life become just a habit of familiar and no longer a wonder a love? Would I fall into ruts just the same living here, or can places bring out different aspects of ourselves? How much more alive we feel in travel, even on a bad day?

Christmas Eve 2022

 It was over 50 F by the time I walked to church yesterday afternoon for a brief choir rehearsal.  Had picked up the car earlier in the day, during the deluge, wading through flooded intersections, the slightest slope becoming a river.  I could've driven, but I'd landed a free parking spot on my street, so chose to keep it.  Sometimes I have to park a mile away, which I didn't feel like doing.  I in caught a bus back home, I was confused when it stopped to pick me up, it said it was going "To Terminal" and there wasn't anyone else on it.  And then I forgot to pay, even though I was holding my pass in my hand; he had to remind me to come back up and pay.  Got off three stops later to make a run to the store before it closed.  Fifteen minutes, and it was still pretty busy.  They aren't open today, and I think people stayed home on Thursday.  It was chaotically busy in the morning, but maybe it just seemed that way because it so rarely is: most days it seems to primarily be people filling online orders.  The lines were long, people seemed maybe a little stressed, out of practice of shopping, being in a crowd, not paying attention to where they were going, or stopping, or blocking.

Change of plans

Well, I guess now I have all day to finally write Christmas (New Year's?) cards.  I am NOT picking up the car today.  I went out a little after noon to see how it was out there: horrible. I made it about 1/3 of a block on flat, and partially melted iced sidewalk, then walked in gravel up a slight hill, kicking at the ice as I went to create someplace of downhill traction, and then got to the intersection back down that hill and tried to kick myself a path across, and then walked on the bark against the next building.  When that ran out it was solid ice.  The street was clear, but you had to get to it, and that was a lot of ice to cross.  Not happening.  On my way back home, a man told me I had the wrong shoes, yeah, but they are all I have, and then a woman offered me her arm, but I'd kicked a path earlier at that point, so I didn't need it.  Nice of her to offer, though.  Everywhere, people were either trying to glide across the ice, or had somehow made it to the main road, and were walking in the road, and some like I had tried, were also going along breaking up the ice and kicking it aside.  Side streets are still a mess.  My street is all ice.  I called and switched the reservation, at least they had availability.  (Over Thanksgiving there wasn't any this close to the holiday.)  I don't know where I would've parked had I picked it up.

I think I have a second pair of "yak track"-type shoe traction, some with more ice traction, I'll have to dig around and find them.  I'd bought some a few years back, and then a friend had also given me a pair for my birthday that year.  One of them works on ice.  Also, trekking poles.  If I had access to a snow shovel, I'd go clear the intersection. 

Still not quite above freezing, but it almost feels balmy in comparison to yesterday.  Device is telling me it's now sleeting.

And as to what I was looking at in earlier post, areas that look icy are the ice that is breaking up; areas that looked clear are the solid, hard sheets of ice, not easily broken apart.

For some reason, I've been feeling out of practice at life.  Both with the ice (and it's unusual, it's true) and I had a cold a couple of weekends ago, it only lasted a day, but I was trying to remember how to navigate the world with a runny nose, as if I had never had that experience before.  It was odd.

2 Days Before Christmas

 I'm out of practice of writing.  I've been hit-and-miss with daily journal writing, and my computer died back in September(?) I think, and I haven't replaced it yet.  Not quite the same typing on a smartphone, though, it's been a godsend to have one.  We're in the middle of an ice storm, the radar says something is happening in my neighborhood, but I can't tell when I look out the window.  I tried opening the screen, but it wouldn't budge, I think it's frozen shut.  Still below freezing. I looked outside around 4 am, there was a man in a yellow jacket, half-sliding down the sidewalk, almost as if he were on skates, he didn't fall.  Later, he stood with a couple of others, smoking at the curb.  None of them seemed all the fazed by the freezing rain.  The snow looked like a solid block.  Yesterday, people were talking of "stocking up" on groceries so they wouldn't have to try to get out later. I thought about it, and then didn't.

Now, it seems to be melting, in spite of it still being below freezing.  The sidewalks don't look particularly icy, but perhaps that's the deception of appearances, or perhaps all the de-icer is working.

I tried to run errands yesterday, in the afternoon, seemed like the best day of the week: freezing, but dry.  North of the Ship Canal much more icy than closer to Downtown.  I waiting hours for buses.  On the screens showing the next bus, it would say "2 minutes" and then no bus would come, and it would say "next bus in 11 minutes" and then that one wouldn't come either.  Eventually just ran the closer errand first, then stood out in the ice for another 1/2 hour with a bunch of other people because a bus had broken down, and we had to wait for the next one to show up.  There were a bunch of people in the back, freezing and wrapped in blankets, but the bus was also cold as half the back windows wouldn't stay shut.  (And only three warming shelters listed, not nearly enough.)  Thankfully, after today, the temps will be in almost 50 F, but pouring down rain, too, for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, I went to the camera store in S Lake Union; I don't recognize that neighborhood at all anymore.  (And man, I miss shooting a film camera! I accidently touched the mirror on my favorite camera a few years ago, not sure if it's worth it to pay to align it again...the next camera I buy will probably be one I can shoot "video" on.  I do miss the days where you could buy a K-1000 and be good to go. Oh, I just looked it up, not very expensive, but as the man at the store said, you pay on the back end with film, though you don't have to keep upgrading as you do with digital, though it's true you need a darkroom, while you can edit digital work anywhere.)

I had been hoping to drop off film at Panda, too, but it'd gotten too late. I've got a pile of old film I need to process, I think still from Finland and Portugal, which were over 10 years ago.  Also, I have a film project I want to work on, so, I'll need to get one of these cameras to work.  Anyway, I waited for a bus for half an hour until a woman walked by and told those of us waiting that the bus was on a snow route and we needed to go four blocks east.  I'm glad she thought to say something.  Would have stood there forever (or until I got too cold, and had to go find another way home.)

I need to go pick up a rental car, so I do need to go out and see if the roads are drivable. Earlier, I could hear the traffic on the freeway, which seemed to sound at normal speeds, but it's the side roads, and little hills everywhere.  I've been off most of the week, and having trouble keeping track of the days.  Everyday feels like a Saturday, though I still find it glorious and decadent to be out and about on a weekday when I realize it's not Saturday.

All the rooftops in the distance are still covered in snow, and I'm listening to the Christmas music on the classical radio station, sitting next to my very dry Christmas tree. My device says it's snowing.  There's a crow cawing out the window, someone's on the elevator, trucks rumble on in the distance. Merry, almost, Christmas.

The Process of Departure

 I looked out the window at a Ryanair plane and wondered why everything looked so dark, briefly thinking the windows were shaded.  But no, it is still night. I was rushing at the end to get out of the hotel, repacking, etc, to get to airport on time (how many flights have I managed to miss vs how many trips I've ever taken?  Let's just say the percentage is high.) I'd set an alarm for 1:30 am, and then of course didn't want to get up.  But once I got here, the people I encountered were very awake, and the line moved slow, so somehow t forgot it was the middle of the night.

Walking to the gate, once past check-in of course, I heard snoring, and continued to pass all the sleeping travelers, passed out in corners or making use of the closed eating areas to camp out. It's very quiet. Everything is shut.

The hotel was about a five minute cab ride from the airport. 20 Euros.  That hour-long ride to Leon was a steal in retrospect, considering he had to drive the hour back; it was 100 Euros.  A woman with a bike told me she paid a similar amount when she hurt her foot, and needed to transport self and bike.

The neighborhood was interesting, reminded me more of Latin America than Europe. I wouldn't think it was Madrid. I went for a walk in the heat. I was looking for a cafe or grocery store, there was actually a huge grocery store next to hotel, but I didn't see it because I went in the other direction.  What I did encounter was a weird sound coming from the trees.  An almost metallic chirp; I think it was some sorta insect, do they have cicadas here?  The few I caught a glimpse of looked like mutant crickets.  They blended in with the bark and were hard to see.

Later I walked toward a park, stopped at a cafe.  More birds than flies, the birds were landing on people, I think many were fledglings. They were panting in the heat.  Under the covered terrace water would spray down periodically to help cool things down, and I think they liked that, too.  In the park there was a small flock of green parrots.

It's a quiet area. Reminds me of visiting my grandma in El Paso: location, landscape, heat, and quality of light.

This was the first hotel I stayed in that was staffed 24 hours.  Also, had a restaurant (where I forced myself to get up and go eat at around 10:30 last night), offered laundry service, room service, especially if you are feeling sick, and had taxis waiting outside 24/7.  Also, pretty wide clientele, now that I'm off the Camino circuit (though plenty of peregrinos, too. My cab driver to the airport asked me about it, since I had a backpack.) I think it was less expensive than where I stayed in Santiago.  That was nice enough, though the bathroom wasn't particularly clean. It was a good location, mix of hotels and locals, just outside the historic area.

The room was remarkably cold. Outside the temp said 45, but that was in the direct sun, I think it was only high 90's...arrive and leave in a heatwave. 

Planes, trains, and automobiles

 I arrived in Santiago on July 1.  Somehow had conveniently booked a hotel near the new bus terminal, so leaving was easy enough. Never did make it to visit St James, though did walk through door of pardon (only open in Holy Years.) Everytime I tried to go there was a Mass in session, or yesterday, there was an ordination, and I didn't make it back.  Had spent far too much of my midday looking for someplace to eat, finally ended up at the Parador cafe, which is outside and not as expensive as the restaurant itself, plus there were tables available.  And then I wanted to take a nap before the 10-hour bus ride, plus repack.

I arrived at the airport before 7 this morning. My flight is at 6 am tomorrow. When I booked the hotel, I still thought I'd need to get a COVID test before flying home, but at any rate I had 5 hours to wait before I could check in.  Working up the courage to figure out how to hail a cab. Have never done it. There is a bus, but I don't know which stop to get off at.  Apparently I could walk, too, but I have no idea which way to go, and it's hot again.

7 days to go

Fonfria Dining Hall, Summer 2022

Fonfria, Galicia.  June 25.  I suppose with elevation gain I walked 30 kms today, the last six with grim determination; my feet were killing me.  Also, in the past week we've gone from heat stroke conditions to hypothermia conditions, granted we crossed a mountain today, but definitely cold. Well at least while the rain fell, and then the sun would come back up and steam would rise up off the asphalt and the rain gear would feel like overkill.

Sunday, June 26.  In the morning it's 1degree Celsius. Granted, it is around 4,000 ft.  I stopped in the next village for a coffee to warm my hands.  I'm not sure how to properly pack for temp swings between 104 and 33 degrees, but I'm wearing most of my clothing this morning. Because of where I stopped last night I'll have to walk almost 30 kms today. I lay awake anxious, thinking of my options. 1) Take a bus down mountain and walk from there (steep descent); 2) Walk as much as I can find some way to get to albergue, even if I have to call a cab; 3) Send pack using transport.  In the end I chose option 3. I woke up early enough, but by time I got around to looking at bus schedule, I'd already missed early one, 6:15 am. Next was at 10 am, which was too long to wait.  The thing about transport is you have to know ahead of time where you will stay, and you have to get there. It loses spontaneity, but does force you to proceed.  I did make it to Sarria, many of the shorter options not open.

Biduedo to Triacastela, Summer 2022

(Written on July 4, after the fact) I ended up shipping my bag 3 days in a row, and when I carried it again, more than 30 kms, and missed my place and had to do an extra couple kms to get back to it, I'm not sure my feet felt a huge amount of difference with or without, though some of the descents were dicey with the weight.

And on that note, the elevation maps are a bit misleading on the last five days, there is so little flat walking, going uphill is easy in sore feet, the downs are the hard part, which seem true given all the bloody knees from slipping, and dead toenails. Savor the flat and the dirt paths.

And also on that note, some of the paths really should be retired, or at least given more of a sense of how bad they are (official route down to bridge in Portomarin, basically a narrow chute of steep rock, which I only made down because a man suddenly appeared behind me and grabbed my arm to guide me down, basically, adding stability.  And that was without a pack.) I did make it across bridge without a panic attack. I focused on the woman's bag in front of me until she stopped mid-bridge. And it's easier on the left side for some reason. I was thinking I might have to ask for help, luckily I wasn't alone this time.

The other treacherous descent is the official route out of Melide.  The C Complimentario being a better option.

Ambasmestas

 I guess the reason for her difficulty was that so many accommodations we're closed. Hard to tell if temporary or permanent. I saw very few people walking today, mostly encountered cyclists.  Took a long lunch break, checked my guide and happily realized I had less than 6 kms to go. This is a very quiet village.  I think there are other people staying here. I have a covered balcony. It overlooks main street, but at least I can put my shoes outside.  I'm staying in a hotel. (53 Euros for room and board. And I'm glad I chose that, as there really isn't any place else to eat, unless I walk one village back or one forward.)

Stopped for second breakfast in Villafranca del Bierzo, and to go to pharmacy. Pharmacist wanted to look at my feet. He put a bandage over my tailor's bunion as if it were a blister. I thought it was sweet, though I did have to reposition it further on.  It did help with the pain in the end. 

I'm still full from lunch and dinner is in an hour.  Breakfast is at 7:15, it'll be another late start.  I wonder how busy it really is? 

I think I hear a bread van, kinda late in the day.

Hotel Ambasmestas, 2022

Raining

Stopped into a winery for a sample, but really this means "last chance for a bio break." While I was drinking the wine and eating the tapa of cheese balls, I looked up and it was dumping rain, so at least I was able to pull out all the rain gear under a roof.  Then of course I was under a clear patch for the next 6 kms or so.  Decided to stay in town, only one other in shared room so far.  Wearing mask, using hand sanitizer as I saw a positive COVID test on the check-in desk.  Hoping for the best, how many people have I encountered where I didn't know? I had a booster about three weeks before I left.  I probably should've walked further today, my feet feel okay, and it makes for a long next couple of days.

My roommate has to send her bag forward and was feeling anxious that she couldn't find any available place.  I walked into the place I am today, but booked tomorrow.  At least it includes dinner + breakfast.

I wandered and got lost earlier. In Cacabelos.  Last night in Ponferrada.  Was finally able to visit castle. My feet were killing me, but then I went to the Museum of El Bierzo, too.  They were all free yesterday.  I would like to spend more time there, also in Leon.

I wasn't able to catch the bus to Leon, and because I had booked a room, felt like I should get there. I was offered a cab, it was very expensive, but I took it.  Got me there four hours early.  Found a farmers market and wandered.  Then went to try to find hostel. Then sat at a cafe and ate slowly.  When I checked in, the first thing the clerk pointed out to me was the nearest laundromat.  Did I smell bad? Perhaps. I did want to do laundry. It was in the residential part of town; and it was fast. Went and had a coffee while my clothes washed, and stayed for the dryer.  Later went back to Cathedral (with my laundry in tow.) I haven't been back since 2005, I appreciate the stained glass more now, though I still like the cloister.  I went to a couple other places in the morning before I had to check out.  Still, there's a lot more I'd like to see.

The hospitalero in Villalcazar offered to drive me to Carrion de los Condes because I think he thought I was ill, I'd been coughing up hairballs all morning, I think it was from all the debris in the air the day before.  Anyway, I walked.  It was cold. Fog dropped down in fingers making everything blurry. About halfway, the sun was high enough to hit the fog and make an arc of light, like a rainbow without color.  It was beautiful. It drifted apart and then re-formed a short time later.  So, it was a good walk, and then a long cab ride.  I will book bus tickets ahead of time.  (There was only one daily bus.) Cheers.

Fogbow, walking to Carrion de los Condes, L Herlevi

Only One Week In

 It's weird already thinking about planning the rest of my days to make my flight. I feel like I just got here.  The weather was funny today, just enough big drops of rain coming down to make everyone stop to put on rain gear only to stop and get warm again as soon as you got covered up.  The shop owner was telling me it had been quite crowded even a week ago, but now very few people are coming through. I'm walking to the next village then catching a bus to Leon. Then I'll either go to Astorga to see the museums or to Ponferrada to see the castle, then start walking again.  Should be able to walk the rest and then make my flight.  Of course if I do, I'll hit the crowds.  And I ve met a lot of interesting people.  That's life, though.  I have to do what's best for me. In Villalcazar de Sirga. Last night in Boadilla.  The food is quite good.

Now it is Autumn

 We've gone from 104 F to 72 F today. The lows will be in the 40's for next week or so.  Windy, too, though this seems to be a windy area. Didn't get walking until probably 7:30 ish. When I woke up half the room had already left, which is quite the change from yesterday, where it was noisy and someone turned on the lights at 10 before 5 am.  I only woke up this morning because someone's alarm went off at 5:30 am.  Walked just under 20 kms.

For the record: Burgos, Tardajos, Hontanas, Castojeriz, Boadilla del Camino. I probably could've walked further, but everyone else was heading to Fromista, and it seemed like it might get hard to find a bed, plus the food here is good, and there's a huge yard to hang out in. I'll probably catch a bus to Leon or Astorga soon, getting short on time.

I have a wool top on, it feels chilly after a week over 100.

Bit the Bullet

 Staying in a big albergue in Hontanas, seems to still have beds. I'd stopped in a place called San Bol, it was full, so I couldn't stay. I'd gotten blisters because it's tailor's bunion pain or blisters (not lacing first part of show to create more space in the toe box, it makes my feet slide more.) These French peregrinos didn't think I should walk to next village, distance, heat, limping, and asked the man who was cleaning if he'd drive me there, also he called and held a bed for me, and for another French peregrino, whom I think has a knee issue. So, we are both here.  Also, the kindness of the French people kept making me cry.

Have finally done laundry, waiting for a shower. Then I'll have to deal with my feet more.

My internet is dropping in and out. Apparently my phone company was bought out, and I might have issues until I remove and reload app. I can't remember my password, neglected to write it down.  

The storm arrived late. I was watching TV but turned it off because I thought it was flashing too much.  In retrospect, I think it was the lightning. Flashed for a long time in silence, got quite windy, when I looked out the window, lots of crap blowing under the street lamps.

Later the rain came, and I thought I saw some pale animal dashing through the wheat.  Been humid today.

Lots and lots of butterflies today. Also a couple of big green lizards. Woke up at 5:30, but didn't get out until 7. Will probably easier tomorrow with all the other people getting up.

A woman who was washing laundry with me said she hasn't booked ahead at all.

Cheers

What to do

 Lost my post, internet cut out.  It's getting stormy, breezy and actual clouds, yet still quite bright and hot. Came outside, my room was getting too hot.  We're going to get a thunderstorm.

So, I've been averaging between 40-50 Euros/night for lodging, and still coming up empty for pre-booking tomorrow, so do I just wing it and hope I find a bed? Not all places let you prebook, and I know COVID protocols changed things, but it's kinda lonely travelling this way (and I really need laundry facilities.). Should I cut the chord and just walk? Worst case scenario, I'll have to find someone to help me find a bed, and hail a cab, which will be stressful, but I was seeing 70 Euro/night, and that's not sustainable for long-term.  Wish me luck.

The thunderstorm won't cool things down much, though once again the breeze is nice.

New City, Still Hot

 Made it to Burgos midday. I almost missed my bus, driver was pulling away from curb by the time I figured out how to use the door, everything has become touch-free, but I was confused if it was a door. Anyway, he let me get on the bus, even got off to let me stow my backpack in the hold.

It was pretty full, but since it's mandatory to wear a mask on public transport, everyone was. And that was good, as there were several people coughing and sneezing, including person right behind me (I'm writing on my phone and it keeps auto-correcting me.)

Anyway, by the time I started walking it was really hot, and I drank a whole bottle of water in the first km or so.  This place is nice, outside the city, west, I guess.  I ended up booking another hotel for tomorrow, though I can't keep doing this.  Also, it's closer than I want to be, but tomorrow will be the hottest day, and everywhere close, i.e., next 20 kms, is booked.  I got a lot of time to kill tomorrow. Someone told me that people are leaving at 4:30 am to beat the heat.

I went back to an ermita I'd passed earlier. It was still open, the sign seemed like there should be a Mass, but there was only a groundskeeper working and a woman sitting on a bench but she got up and walked toward the gate when I passed.  No one inside.  I got a bit emotional.  Hard to explain.  Tiny space, a figure lying in repose taking up most of the aisle.  The ermita is for St Amaro?  French, I think.  Anyway, I touched his feet, put my palm against each of his soles; they felt real, the shape, the way my hands held against them.  Asked for a blessing of my feet. Santiago was at the altar, asked for a pilgrims' blessing since I began my journey in a bus station.  After I moved my hands away from his feet, the building started creaking. And yeah, there is wind blowing, and it's a very old structure, still, it was a bit spooky.  When I walked back out the groundskeeper and the woman were in deep conversation.

I bought some fruit on my way back, then went to the bar nextdoor. Strong cross breeze blowing through.  Out through the back door, there's a big playground.  And in spite of the heat, people out for evening stroll, at the playground, having picnics in the park.  I would've stay, but have to get up early.  I can hear the people outside, both bar patrons and playground.  Alas, I can't hear the music, was really enjoying it, kinda 80's music, but Spanish.

It's too light out to sleep.