Castrello to As Seixas

So after what I could only describe as a fitful night of interrupted sleep thanks to a small cloistered room packed full of competitive snorers, and a bunk bed shorter than even my diminutive stature, I woke up at 6.30am and could no longer justify staying in bed as the room errupted into the chaos that is pre-light packing. You'd be forgiven for believing that the early morning enthuisiasm of pilgrims had been due to a gold strike in Galicia or oil in the Asturias. Instead its more I think a casual rush to enjoy tge most comfortable parts of walking during the day. Midday is too hot. Evening is tainted with ever more fatigue and casual worry of bed space, to offset the cool evening sun with very beautiful sunsets.

So as I grabbed some pastries from the breakfast provided and made my way out into the wide world, I started off slow.

The road from Lugo had been hard, considering it was my first full day back, new blisters on my left big toe had developed, small miseries that are just part and parcel of this type of travelling.

My goal was a shorter day, As Seixas or the idyllically named Casa Camino.

About thirty minutes in I was caught up by one of the German women at Castrello. I can't even remember the start of the conversation, but as things go when your walking sometimes light conversation breaks up the monotony of a sometimes never ending trail.

Another odd aspect is introductions. Sometimes they can be as short as 15 minutes, or 3 days.

There is no artificial pressure to introduce yourself, so it happens when it happens, or it doesn't.

So after we had formally introduced ourselves, Marina and I continued our conversation. The usual trail talk ensued, distances, kit, etc. Its always interesting to hear others experiences of the same trail, different places you stayed and the misadventures that sometime ensue.

Marina was travelling with three other German women, Jackie, Ingrid, and Kirstie.

The Germanic motivation for a good cup of coffee kept us going from stopping point to stopping point, foiled by the equally powerful cultural institution that is the opening hours of the Spanish shop owner.

So the search continued until we happened along an Albergue that had an open patio area and sat for a break. In this case the mountain came to Mohammehd, the owners a pair of Dutch expats who'd recently bought the Albergue came out for a chat and then offered coffee, even though they weren't officially open.

So a nice break spent chatting, enjoying coffee, and paying attention this a very cute mastiff puppy at that awkward not small not quite as big yet stage all larger dog breeds go through.

Back on the road we all effectively reached As Seixas in good time, and after a while of resting and the warmth of the midday sun set in, I gave up the idea of Casacaminos, and a good thing too as it was closed.

How can I describe As Seixas Albergue, stunning.

The building was a coverted old farmhouse, and the remodelling kept as much original stonework as possible.

Everything was up to a nice spec, and while the facilities were basic, they were nice. The foot bath in the front and the covered laundry facility out back were a nice added touch.

The only downside was the local cafe was closed due to a caeserian being required by the owner, and thus the only outlet of food was whatever had been packed in, or some very well stocked vending machines.

Well we probably well contributed to the owners college fund with the amount of Estrella Galicia that was purchased through the machine.

Finally all those hoarded small euros came in handy.

Well we finished around 12.45pm, so the rest of the day was quite leisurely. An idea for foraging food was put about as we all soaked our feet in the foot bath, as one can only survive on beer so long and the machine would run out at our rate of consumption.

So Marina and Jackie went off in search of food. I went to do laundry and then repair the blisters on my feet with my dwindling supply of first aid accroutments.

The view was pleasant though and the time passed slowly, its an ever fine line between boredom and excitement when travelling by foot, you need the rest if but for the physical renewal, as good sleep or access to good food is never guaranteed.

The downside is a sense of restless guilt, I can only ascribe as something that you're burning daylight, and thats time that could be spent on the road getting further towards your goal. It´s a weird sort of twilight zone between the two wants, that of rest and that of advancement.

Needless to say the afternoon was relaxing, sitting in the old back field of the house surrounded by a small meadow space, stone walls and an over abundant, neglected garden behind the short wall. Casual observation of the trees and one could see apples, which the tree had begun to drop those that had already ripened or been rejected, so in that and the raspberries around the corner there was food. I don´t usually agree with the idea of scrumping, however most of the Spanish owners have always been very casual about fruit trees, those that are well kept I won´t have an apple from, though many of them in abundance seem to have become the subject of disinterest from their owners.

The other agony of this twilight form of rest is the exhaustion from the previous days catching up with you, the feeling that you should be doing something, even sleeping. I´m admittedly jealous of those special individuals who can sleep during the day, on command, and then at night. Myself I know if I lay down now, I won´t get up again until I´ve slept for 6 or 7 hours and then I really am screwed, as one just can´t hit the trail at 1am. At least no one who is sensible.

Dinner was a nice affair, Marina and Jackie had been successful in laying claim to a few eggs from a local farmer, some pasta, and with what was available in the automat, a meal materialised.

Then a few more hours, a few more Galician Estrella´s, and off to bed.