Santiago De Compostella: III

Boredom can sometimes have a naturally wonderful effect of making you go out and search for something that you don't have at the present. Preoccupation of mind.

I find that with the addition of so many different things and forms of media, internet, games, and other consumables that we've lost touch with the art of being motivated by boredom and the certain restlessness that comes with not having any prerequisite plans.

I'd slept well, and had sauntered downstairs for breakfast at a luxurious 8.55am. The hostel upstairs closed for cleaning, so instead of being cloistered in until 1pm, like a real monk it was my decision that even though I didn't know what I'd want to do I'd best get out there and do it.

The first stop was the cathedral, to actually take in the portico gloria instead of just glancing from it askew angles. Then proceeded to get some better quality pictures of different areas in the quieter part of the morning. I somehow managed to keep myself busy with figuring out what I wanted to do with tomorrow, researching the trip to Finisterre, bus costs, and where the bus station would be. As I returned to the Seminario, I met one of the Czech's I'd met in Borres, everyone had arrived for the most part, though they'd all lost track of each other. Vojta was staying in another part of Santiago so I walked with him, as I needed to pick up some groceries that I now had been able to recover from my passport wallet in my room.

Well his flat that was being rented out was literally right out the back of the park and on the other side of town, so I walked with him, with the intent to stop by the only super market that I knew in city proper which wasn't that far of a walk from the park.

Dropping him off, I walked through the park, surmising in my mind that I'd go to Finisterre tomorrow, as even though it was technically a rest day, I was beginning to get bored with Santiago in some senses and desirous of that intangible feeling of moving towards something new. Finisterra was the logical conclusion to my journey.

Walking through the park, someone called to me, and happily I saw more of the group from Borres so I sat done, talked about the trip and when they'd arrived.

Everyone was arriving today, so I hadn't been too badly off in my estimates for time, had my feet remained healthy. It was also reassuring to see that they'd made it as well, as you grow odd attachments to complete strangers on the road.

I stuck with them for a bit, but didn't want to overshoot the super market, so told them I'd meet up with them later once they had a plan in place.

I then bought my groceries, yes still more tinned tuna in oil! Though I added some variety with eggs, and muscles to add to the basic pasta I had.

Getting back to the Seminario, I laid down to sleep for a bit. Well fatigue I guess finally caught up with me, because I slept for a good five hours at least, woke up around 7:30pm and decided that I'd have to try, make some dinner or do something otherwise if I continued I'd be up at 4am without any means of forcing myself to get back to sleep until sunrise.

So I made dinner, a simple affair of pasta, jazzed up with garlic, tomato sauce, and muscles in oil.

As I sat down to dinner, Ketil and his son had come back from Finisterre so I sat down with them and discussed the trip, and the running joke whether or not his son had finished the potboiler scandi-mystery novel he'd been reading and I'd been taking wild stabs at the conspirators in the crime. He was also eating just bread, so I let him have the extras I'd cooked for lunch tomorrow, feeling I'd probably not need them.

Then we discussed history, Santiago, the remain of St. James and the early catholic church in Spain establishing pilgrimage sites, as I sipped my coffee and beer.

Then bed.

Not an entirely productive day, but it was fun. I had a cigar for Finisterra tomorrow, and aside from a dwindling holiday treasury, not a care in the world.

Special thanks to my patrons. Brendan Mills, Renee Rushbrook, Carlos Ara.