This morning I woke in the worst pain ever. Far worse than the

previous morning which I didn't think was possible, but here I was

literally unable to stand. This was truly amazing. Here I was

after 36 days of walking almost every day, and suffering more than

ever. After taking two ibuprofen tablets on an empty stomach, I

rolled up my sleeping bag and got my pack together holding on to

the bunk and whatever else was handy. Gradually, moving very

slowly and using my staff more as a crutch than a walking stick, I

made my way downstairs and started off towards the main plaza. I

limped and hobbled to the nearest open bar which also happened to

be the bus station. At this point I thought that I had little

choice but to see a doctor or go to a hospital. This was bad and I

was very worried. As I sat in the bar having a cafe con leche

(grande) and a croissant, I thought of how horrible it would be to

have come this far and not make it to my destination. I was

getting very depressed about it and the thought of taking a bus

the final 50 kilometers was even more depressing though definitely

an option since I was sitting in a bus station. In my present

condition, however, walking was not an option. As the the T.V.

pumped out American MTV, which was actually quite comforting, I

ordered a second cafe con leche and sat wondering what to do next.

Then, suddenly the drug kicked in and the pain was gone! I was

amazed and grateful for the miracle of drugs, and it really was a

miracle. Even though I had been taking ibuprofen for days and had

a good idea of its capabilities, I never expected this level of

instant cure. Pain gone, I asked the bartender to fill my water

bottle which he kindly did, and off I went.

Stately eucalyptus trees line the path.

By now it was 9:30 and I was walking slowly and cautiously with

only a slight limp. The track is very friendly for the most part,

passing through eucalyptus woods and over streams. At 11:00 I

stopped in a tiny hamlet and had a cafe solo at the bar. I walked

out of the bar and was a few steps down the road I had been

traveling when a woman carrying a shovel over her shoulder stopped

me and asked if I was going on el camino. I said yes, I was, and

she pointed me back in the opposite direction to a left turn just

at the other side of the bar. I thanked her profusely, since she

had saved me considerable time and effort. This was one of many

instances where a kindly native has taken the trouble to

straighten out this bumbling pilgrim and I was very grateful.

Within a few steps I came upon a fountain with water rapidly

flowing from a pipe. As I approached it a rooster crowed and I

heard the water splashing into the basin of the fountain. Time

stopped. Where was the water that flowed from the fountain? Where

was the sound of the rooster? I was transfixed in an instant of

clarity between thoughts.

Stream crossing.

Time is a lie.

There is no Now.

There is no Then.

Only the heart can know.

I realized for a fraction of a second that trying to be in the

present is as futile and as much a lie as living in the past and

future. All these thoughts are products of the mind which is

incapable of understanding. Even Ram Dass's famous admonition to

"Be here now," is buying into the lie and is futile. As I write

these words today, they serve only as vague and inadequate

references to a state of consciousness that I am not now

experiencing, and, I presume, may not communicate the revelation

that I had to those who read this. Yet, I remember the experience,

what it means, and how important it is to me, so it's only fair to

report it, no matter how inadequately.

At 2:30 I walked into Arzua thinking lunch. As I came to the main

part of the business section just before the town center, everyone

stopped to look at an amazing spectacle: a troop of pilgrims on

horseback with hoofs clattering on the pavement, proudly stepping

through town at a rapid gait. People came out of the shops and

bars to look, wave, and cheer. It was beautiful. These were the

same riders I had encountered two days earlier. They must be

stopping for extended rests, probably for the sake of the horses,

since they are holding my snails pace. At the main intersection of

town, there is a nice park with shops and bars on the perimeter. I

stopped for a while and watched people order and eat at the

largest bar with tables outside and decided that it looked

expensive and not what I wanted just then. What I did want was a

decent and inexpensive sit-down lunch in a nice restaurant. I

crossed the street and walked north a few steps to where there

were several restaurants to choose from, so I selected one and

found that it was just what I wanted. Nicely decorated with

several square tables in a medium size room overlooking a small

courtyard. Mama in the kitchen and her daughter was the waitress.

I ordered a roast pork dinner with soup, salad, and tortilla. The

meal was perfect except for the coffee. Apparently only the bars

have the coffee makers that produce one cup at a time of excellent

coffee. I gathered myself together and headed out. A few hundred

meters out of town, just before el camino turned off the paved

road, I passed a resort where the horses were resting on the front

lawn. From here it was 15.3 Km to Santa Irene which was my

destination for the day. That would make a total of 26.5 Km from

Melide where I started this morning. Not too bad for a cripple.

The walk to Santa Irene was relatively pleasant considering my hip

problem which acted up occasionally, and at about 7:00 I crested

the hill on the highway just before Santa Irene which has two

restaurants, one on each side of the road, and walked down the

hill to the refugio. The place was brimming with pilgrims, mostly

Spanish students, and as I checked in I must have been visibly

concerned about being thrown into the large dorm with them. After

registering with the woman in charge and getting my credentials

stamped she directed me to a room at the front of the first floor.

The room had only two double bunk beds which were occupied, except

for one bed. I was quite relieved and she could see my gratitude.

It was almost as though she was holding the bed especially for me.

It's not that I had a problem with bunking in with crowds, since I

have done my share, but I was particularly tired this day and the

group at the refugio was particularly raucous. One of the other

bunks was occupied by two Dutch girls and the other bed by Cas, a

middle aged man, also from Holland. Of course they were getting

along famously, and I seemed to fit in reasonably well. They were

kind enough to speak english once I arrived, giving up their

native tongue. We talked about language for a minute, and how

unique theirs is, and unique sounding. I asked them to carry on in

Dutch for a while just to let the flavor of the language sink in.

It is one of the oddest sounding languages I've heard, with much

guttural rumbling and tongue clucking. I enjoyed their company

enormously. After unpacking, I went outside to consider my dinner

options and was joined by Cas. We decided to dine together at one

of the restaurants at the top of the hill and started walking the

kilometer back to them. When we reached the top of the hill, we

were faced with a choice and went for the restaurant on the right.

Once inside, we were informed that the place was closed, so we

crossed the highway to the other one, which was very nice,

spacious and comfortable feeling. We sat at a table and talked as

we waited for our food to arrive. It turns out that Cas, like just

about every other Hollander I have met, is a councilor. He was

making the pilgrimage because he was about to change professions

from councilor to minister in the community he lives. He was in

transition. This led us to a discussion of the various reasons

people make this pilgrimage and we came up with the following list:

1. Life transition.

2. Cultural tourist.

3. Architectural tourist.

4. Sport. Many young people do it just for the physical

challenge.

5. Religious. The drives of faith and atonement that have

motivated pilgrims for centuries.

6. Healing. This is the "less than a full shilling" category

which broadly defines people who are suffering.

7. Spiritual.

8. Bereavement.

We enjoyed our conversation, and after finishing our dinner we

headed back to the refugio. Once there we found the girls had

already turned in and we did the same, anticipating tomorrow's

19.5 Km walk to our final destination: Santiago de Compostela.

New suburban dwelling.