I finished my time at the internet cafe. I walked back through Santander towards the pilgrim shelter. As I passed a cathedral I heard the bells ringing and remembered that it was Sunday and I hadn't been to a church service, but it turned out that the bells were not ringing for Mass. It was late afternoon by now. The other churches I passed were not doing anything for the rest of the day either.
I found a public phone and called my parents. Then I walked back to the pilgrim shelter. There was a shelf there where pilgrims had left things behind. There were tents, portable stoves, and other camping gear. I thought of my guitar and how heavy it had gotten after a few days on the road, even though it had seemed like such a good idea to bring it. I could easily understand why someone might bring camping gear, only to abandon it after half the pilgrimage.
I found some foot balm though. It was supposed to help feet that were worn out from walking. I'm not sure how it was supposed to do that, but I figured that it couldn't hurt to try it out, especially since it came in a small bottle that wouldn't weigh heavily in my backpack.
I ate the "pilgrim's special" in the bar just downstairs from the shelter. To my surprise, I was served by the same two women whom I had met in Somo and had asked about the pilgrim shelter.
It was a large meal for a decent price. There was a large screen television showing the Barcelona game. Later in the evening, Anabel showed up in the restaurant as well.
When I went on a pilgrimage through Spain in 2007, I repeatedly thought that I could write a book about everything that was happening in and around me. A few weeks after finishing the pilgrimage I started this blog instead. It may be the rough draft of an upcoming book -- who knows -- but it is my surrender to the urge to try to put into words what might better be left cloaked under a vow of silence.
