Day 35

It was a tough walk from Soto de Luiña along the Asturian coast, going down into a forest to a river or stream at the lowest point and then up again for 6 or 7 times, rocky paths, muddy and slippery after the rain started. The sea was there from time to time, mostly from a distance, but sometimes almost at your feet if you were willing to make a little detour. I decided to walk to the Playa del Silencio, the Beach of Silence, but the amount of cars driving there made it clear there was not going to be much silence to be found. The views from the car park were beautiful though. Two and a half hours later I found myself on a beach that was noisy in its own amazing way, Rio Cabo beach, also known as Ballota beach, where the Cabo river ends and the sea begins. High cliffs, giant rocks sticking out of the wild sea and a beach consisting of uncountable stones and pebbles. Every time the waves crashed on the beach and the water withdrew again, thousands and thousands of stones moved against each other and created a sound that was the opposite of, but just as intense as complete silence. There was nobody there, just me and some sea gulls. I sat down and listened for a long time, feeling very small in the middle of these forces of nature.

The rain started again, C. had transformed from a black cart into a sky blue and fluorescent yellow walking trolley, my grey suit was hidden under a bright red rain poncho. When I took a break to catch my breath after another long climb out of a forest, a man offered me the bench under the roof of his house. I had noticed earlier that a lot of people looked a bit stern or sombre but every time you said buenas dias to them, suddenly a genuine smile appeared.

My aim was an albergue pelegrino, a pilgrim hostel, that had a field for tents. A bed and a roof would be nice with all this rain but I knew chances were small. There seem to be less facilities here than there are on the Camino Frances and most people either reserve a bed beforehand or they leave very early to arrive early and claim a bed. First come, first served. At the albergue where I camped last night I got a bit tired of all the people (it was a massive place with at least 80 beds, I was happy to be outside) asking each other where they were going the next day, if they had a reservation already, people who didn`t know yet spending most of the evening on their phone checking the Camino apps, even a big group of Gemans spending at least 20 minutes trying to figure out online which restaurant was open and which one was the best: the village was very small, we were a few minutes on foot away from the central square and 1 minute from the edge of town. I bought a pack of ice creams there at a supermarket, because buying 1 at a bar is just as expensive as buying a pack in a supermarket and then you can share them, which I did. People seemed to be surprised, somebody even offered me money. Somebody else said there was a freezer so I could store them for myself instead of handing them out. I could indeed, but why?

The pilgrim hostel I ended up in today was very different from the one in Soto de Luiña but it wasn`t the one I aimed for. That one was full, as I thought it would be, and camping was possible but for some reason I couldn`t pitch my tent until 20.30 and it was 18.30 when I arrived, cold and hungry. The place was in a rundown state, the man who was in charge arrived at 19.00 to collect the money from the 11 people plus 1 (who stayed in the garage on a stretcher because he had a small friendly silent dog that wasn`t allowed inside) and he seemed to be very impatient and unfriendly, talking in Spanish at double speed, annoyed when somebody didn`t understand him or didn`t have the exact amount of 6 euros, then telling me he would take me to some other place where there was a bed. There was no time to discuss, or think about my options, he was already putting the seats in the car down to load C. in the back. “We have to take the highway” he said. Where on earth were we going? Better stay here and try to install my tent? The drizzle turned into a proper shower, I had my answer. I jumped in the car and during the drive I realised he was not unfriendly at all, just very hurried and stressed. He told me there was a network to make sure every pilgrim had a place to stay at night, here they had been dealing with lack of financial support and other difficulties so it was hard to offer people proper lodging but they always found a solution and he and other volunteers often drove people to hostels that were a bit further away from the Camino.
He dropped me off in the middle of nowhere, handed me over to the man in charge there who assigned me the last bed in a room with 15 bunk beds, people were walking around everywhere. I felt lost, longed for my tent, but was grateful as well, especially when I saw the paella that was about to be served. Places like this, donation based, offer something else than the places where you have more privacy and facilities. I was welcomed with open arms, given time to settle in and allowed to eat my diner outside on my own. “Some people need silence” my host said and winked at me, “everybody does the Camino in their own way and I know who the real pilgrims are”. I didn`t tell him I wasn`t walking the Camino even when I was on the Camino but I think that it wouldn`t have made a difference to him. I am not sure what his story was, all he shared was that he had come here for the first time as a pilgrim, on his way to Santiago and the only way I found out he was religious was when I broke a glass and I apologised and he said “You don`t have to apologise to me, only to the Lord”.
In the morning, almost ready to leave, I watched the 2 ponies on the other side of the street and he joined me and told me he took care of them and that when there were many flies and musquitos he washed their faces with water and lemon juice to keep the insects away. The hug he gave me when I left was a proper one.