We just finished day 4 of el Camino primitivo and I could amputate my feet. I'm not a rookie. I knew better to come with boots that I haven't broken in, so I'm wearing my big waterproof hiking boots that I've worn a ton and used everyday in Andorra, so WTF?
Well, I have a theory. You see, on the first day of our adventure we had to wait until 9:30 for the tourist office to open so we could pick up the passport for el Camino. We started in the adorable town of Oviedo. In fact, the first thing I noticed was how clean the city is, and apparently they have won the "Golden Broom" award for the cleanest city in Europe.
Back to my blister... Although I'm not a rookie for hiking, I am for backpacking. It's been a while since I've carried all my crap on my back and I seriously overestimated my limit. I just literally threw every possession I brought to Spain and Andorra into my pack and off I went.
That's not a giant penis statue, but a statue of a pilgrim. Now we start the pilgrimage.
Day 1 from Oviedo to Grado started with a bounce of joy - until kilometer 20, when I realized that my 40lb pack was waaaayyy to heavy for me. The sun blared down as we sweat up and down hills. At one point I threw off my pack and started taking out things I could live without. Energy bars, a book to read, an extra electricity converter. My waterproof boots are not breathable and I felt the beginnings of hot spots on my heels. Ugh.
Hobbling into Grado I knew something had to change. Before meeting MJ's family for dinner, I freed myself of half of my possessions, packing it up for MJ's Aunt, not sure when or if I'd see them again, and not really caring. Liberation from material goods, sounds like a good start to a pilgrimage.
In this part of the world dinner starts, the very earliest, at 8 pm. Normally families are going out at 10 to eat their evening meal. Super strange for gringos.
After some traditional cider -
MJ's uncle ordered a speciality of the region. Meat filled with meat filled with goat cheese and deep fried - cachopo.
The traditional way to sleep on this pilgrimage is to stay in albergues, basically giant rooms with bunk beds, but our night in Grado was in a nice hotel - Hotel Autobar
Day 2 started in the dining area of the hotel when I noticed this -
the chamois! Yes, the same goat that is now a permanent part of my arm.
The excitement for our Day 2 walk overcame our blisters.
At least for the moment.
As we headed for Salas from Grado we melted in the heat, at the time not realizing that this 37 degree Celsius day was the hottest on record since 1972. As we walked our 25 km, the heat build up in our boots created an inferno that cannot be described. This didn't stop us from enjoying the scenery, but
as we entered the town of Salas it was all we could do not to lay down in the cemetery and wait for the vultures to come.
MJ has family all over this area and her Uncle came and got us for dinner, and let us stay with them. Family is very important here and everyone is so kind. We were spoiled with a giant late lunch, time for a siesta, and then a nice dinner out, plus a free place to sleep. I was able to communicate with their 2 1/2 year old daughter with my terrible Spanish.
The next morning, day 3, I didn't know if I'd be able to wear my boots. Blisters growing, aches and pains in my legs, hip bones bruised, but we persevered.
The day started crisp and cool, and by noon the heat came in and out trek for Tineo became another inferno walk.
Luckily we found some cool lemonade along the path.
The night in Tineo was in a fancy albergue, but an albergue none the less. Bunk beds, zippers being pulled, people whispering, the worst of it all, snoring! Uhh. How do people do it?
This morning was the start of Day 4. Tineo to Pola de Allande. The weather made an abrupt change from inferno to cloudy mist.
The first 21 km felt great, and we were kicking it in the cooler temps, but as the hills became steeper and the angles of decents increased, we felt our feet bulging once again. That first day rookie mistake has had long lasting effects on our hike. With pounding sores, and a total of 35 km, we limped into Pola de Allande and checked in the hotel whose owners know MJ's family (yes, so far on this trip we've been in contact with her Spanish family - an awesome experience)
With all this cronic blister pain, I almost forgot to be happy.
Let the pilgrimage continue.
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