92: vagabond as I know it

The rest of the day I walked. Much of the stretch was along a pipeline. I was listening to Johnny Cash on my mp3 player, which I did break out on occasion. I wondered whether I would make the next stop, Santillana del Mar, by night time. I stood on a bridge for a while, considering whether I could sleep under it. I decided against it and kept walking. I abandoned the trail again and went along a carretera. Another 5 Kilometers to Santillana, and it was getting dark.

I found a small gas station and decided to sleep behind it. I brushed my teeth, then went out back and spread out my sleeping bag. This kind of sacking out was more familiar to me than the regular pilgrim hangouts.

A dog was barking at me. I remembered other times when I slept outside -- in Canada or Argentina or other such trips -- and how some dogs would literally bark all night because they knew I was nearby. I always wanted to make a deal with them, that I would not move for the rest of the night if they would agree to be quiet for the rest of the night. They didn't seem to care, even if I just lay motionless all night long, the fact that I was there meant they had a right to bark, and if they had a right to bark, well darned if they aren't going make ample use of that right.

This dog eventually went away. But now a lady in a neighboring house was calling from her balcony. I was comfortably settled in my sleeping bag, had taken off my glasses and was plugging up my ears. I couldn't tell for sure if she was calling to me, so I just ignored her. I became increasingly certain that she was, in fact, trying to get my attention. Some bum going to sleep just outside her backyard.

It wasn't even fully dark yet, but I drifted off to sleep.