I hooked up with Roman for breakfast. He was off to the east on

his way home to Switzerland and I was continuing west to my

destination of Santiago de Compostela. We went to the lower

restaurant and had coffee and rolls and talked for a while before

departing in opposite directions. For a few kilometers the camino

follows the paved road then breaks off to a dirt path and climbs

steeply to the top of Alto de San Roque. At the top there is a

small restaurant where most pilgrims stopped to rest and refresh

themselves after the hard, steep climb.

Looking back down the path.

I rested here and drank an orangina, grateful for the sturdy staff

I had purchased from the gift shop in St. Jean-Pied-de-Port where

I started. This walking stick has been invaluable on many

occasions, and I say that without exaggeration. There were

sections of the camino that I literally could not have negotiated

without this trusted companion. This staff is made of a hard wood

that I can't identify, but it is straight and cut from a branch

with a knurled joint forming the top where you hold it. It is

exactly 4 feet long (121 cm) with a hole near the top where a

leather strap runs through it. Down the length of the staff is

inscribed "St. Jean-Pied-de-Port" with ornamental flower patterns

on either side. It is stained a lovely brown color and tapers

slightly towards the tip which has a substantial metal point

Detail of engraving on staff.

attached. It is just the right thickness and weight, and is for

all practical purposes, indestructible. All in all, it is a

perfect walking stick and I was pleasantly surprised to find it

sold as a tourist's souvenir at a gift shop. While I have

occasionally forgotten it here and there along the way, I always

noticed its absence and retrieved it before going no more than a

few steps. I truly appreciated having it, especially as I sat

recovering after the steep climb up a dirt path with loose rocks.

My bruised hip was beginning to become seriously painful now as

the day's journey progressed. I became oblivious to the historical

and architectural aspects of el camino as I focused on simply

getting from one place to another, wondering if my abused body

would hold up. Thankfully, with the exception of a couple of short

steep climbs, the walk from O Cebreiro was mostly downhill and

very pleasant with beautiful views. I actually felt joy for a

second or two before my head got in the way, confused I suppose,

by what was going on.

Ancient tree marks the way.

At 2:00 P.M. I arrived in Triacastela 19.5 km from O Cebreiro. As

I entered the town, I walked right past the refugio which had

approximately 60 back-packs lined up outside. I didn't need to

even consider staying there after my experience on the floor last

night. I knew I was heading for a room with a bed. I checked into

the first hostel I came to which was down the end of a street to

the right of the camino. The hostel was over a bar, as usual, but

since el camino had suddenly become so crowded with students, I

didn't want to take any chances with not finding a place to stay,

so I accepted the first room offered. The room was adequate with a

shower down the hall, and after washing up, I went out to a small

market and bought some cheese, bread, tuna fish, and olives for

dinner. The walls of my hostel were paper thin and the bar

downstairs became increasingly loud as pilgrims gathered and

celebrated. At 8:30 it is a beautiful night with a full moon

rising. Earlier, I was planning to go to a restaurant but decided

that I couldn't face it alone, having become suddenly depressed.

My heart is still closed off, and being here with the language

barrier and with people laughing and having fun downstairs serves

to emphasize that fact.

Physical inventory: groin muscles very painful today. Heels are OK

now thanks to the second skin bandages. Tendon has been fine since

the Belgian doctor's taping advice. I just took off the bandages

after my shower after wearing them for three days. Tomorrow I will

try to walk without the bandage. Hip and ribs are sore from

sleeping on the floor last night.

At midnight the bar downstairs is raging. I close my window to

keep out the smell from the kitchen vent which is just below it

and attempt to sleep.