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Dreamtime Traveler In the Winds of Change We Always Find Our Direction

DAY 26: Mud, Mayonnaise and a Majestic Sunset

I stepped into an oozing marshy mud puddle for the 100th time in the past hour. I lifted my once hot-pink hiking shoes out of the squelching swamp prison with a sigh. You could no longer tell what the original colour was. Behind me, I heard the indignant cries from my family, who were also being swallowed whole by the murky waters of this bog. The bog of eternal sludge. There was no way out. We were trapped beneath a thick layer of oak and elm trees, who were slowly being choked to death by strangling vines that competed fiercely for any chance of the weak pallor of sunlight flitting down into the depths of this sombre forest. We continued onwards on our Camino, criss-crossing under rotting logs stained green with moss, over trickling slush streams and through endless inky black, churning mud. The light at the end of the tunnel burned like a miracle and when the four of us managed to crawl through the opening and back out into the real world of civilisation, we rejoiced immensely.

Ignoring St James’ yellow arrows, which would have lead us straight back down into the bog, we turned to the left and journeyed out to the scenic route along the road, while whistling the seven gnome’s catchy “Hi Ho.” Yes, that’s how thankful we were to see the sky.

While the road did save us from having to throw out our shoes altogether, walking it is always draining, both physically and mentally. Somehow, some way, the black tar drains the life force out of you, makes each step somehow prolonged and taxes your mental resolve. That’s how the first four hours on the road ended up feeling like a whole day of walking had already past. We were all craving a break, but as villages were few and far between on this leg, we were wondering if we would actually find a place to rest at all. We approached the outskirts of a village and my Dad immediately asked a couple of local people standing by the roadside whether there was a decent place to eat. They assured him that just 400 metres down the road we would be well fed! The words were music to our ears, and the joyful hum of “Hi-Ho” returned. Sure enough, soon we were sitting in a tiny hotel cafe, which was the only place that sold food for miles around.

We had just ordered a couple of plates of snacks that would keep us going until our final destination for the day. The kitchen’s silver doors swished open and a waitress appeared, expertly balancing a sandwich order of ours. Walking up to our table, time froze to the pace of a snail as I watched in horror at the chaos that played out in front of me. Turning around to get some salt from an apposing table, Dad’s hand flew up into the air and collided with the small porcelain plate in the waitress’ hand. It went flying, causing the contents of the sandwich, which included asparagus, tomato and mayonnaise, to elaborately soar downwards in slow motion, and come to a halt, smack bang on the floor in a crescendo of shattering plates. The murderous look on the waitress’ face didn’t falter, even after we apologised profusely and offered to clean the mess up ourselves. So the best we could do was smile kindly and watch as she brought out the rest of our plates. I know it was an accident, but I feel so badly when food is wasted and also the extra work we had created for the waitress. This moment brought me gratitude for what I had received and I let that gratitude radiate throughout my body in kind of an energetic way that recharged me for the last part of our journey for the day.

Returning to the road, we wound our way through the slight mountain ranges of Asturias and the last 8 km of the day entertained us with stark contrasts of deep valleys and steep climbs keeping us in check. We even felt that we stood a chance of getting the last few places at one of two Albergues, so the race was back on again! During the day, we had been passing or were being passed by a young Brazilian man, another group of three and an older man walking alone. With only 2 km to go, the young Brazilian man surged past us with an unearthly reserve of energy. One less place! It is funny how your mind plays the silliest tricks with you when something like this happens. I had to stop myself from imagining the scenario which always jumped to the front of my mind; the one where we would get there and they would say, ‘Sorry, but we only have four beds left and these guys just got here a minute before you.” We saw the older man just in front of us and with Cadavedo just 1500 meters up a steep hill, we knew we had what it took to pass him. It was now our turn to draw on our unearthly reserves of human energy and sure enough, we powered up the hill as if we were freshly starting the whole journey. I insisted immediately that instead of us all trying our luck to get the last few beds, Dad should just throw off his backpack, take our pilgrim credentia
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Menu SearchDreamtime Traveler In the Winds of Change We Always Find Our DirectionDAY 26: Mud, Mayonnaise and a Majestic SunsetI stepped into an oozing marshy mud puddle for the 100th time in the past hour. I lifted my once hot-pink hiking shoes out of the squelching swamp prison with a sigh. You could no longer tell what the original colour was. Behind me, I heard the indignant cries from my family, who were also being swallowed whole by the murky waters of this bog. The bog of eternal sludge. There was no way out. We were trapped beneath a thick layer of oak and elm trees, who were slowly being choked to death by strangling vines that competed fiercely for any chance of the weak pallor of sunlight flitting down into the depths of this sombre forest. We continued onwards on our Camino, criss-crossing under rotting logs stained green with moss, over trickling slush streams and through endless inky black, churning mud. The light at the end of the tunnel burned like a miracle and when the four of us managed to crawl through the opening and back out into the real world of civilisation, we rejoiced immensely.Ignoring St James’ yellow arrows, which would have lead us straight back down into the bog, we turned to the left and journeyed out to the scenic route along the road, while whistling the seven gnome’s catchy “Hi Ho.” Yes, that’s how thankful we were to see the sky.While the road did save us from having to throw out our shoes altogether, walking it is always draining, both physically and mentally. Somehow, some way, the black tar drains the life force out of you, makes each step somehow prolonged and taxes your mental resolve. That’s how the first four hours on the road ended up feeling like a whole day of walking had already past. We were all craving a break, but as villages were few and far between on this leg, we were wondering if we would actually find a place to rest at all. We approached the outskirts of a village and my Dad immediately asked a couple of local people standing by the roadside whether there was a decent place to eat. They assured him that just 400 metres down the road we would be well fed! The words were music to our ears, and the joyful hum of “Hi-Ho” returned. Sure enough, soon we were sitting in a tiny hotel cafe, which was the only place that sold food for miles around.
We had just ordered a couple of plates of snacks that would keep us going until our final destination for the day. The kitchen’s silver doors swished open and a waitress appeared, expertly balancing a sandwich order of ours. Walking up to our table, time froze to the pace of a snail as I watched in horror at the chaos that played out in front of me. Turning around to get some salt from an apposing table, Dad’s hand flew up into the air and collided with the small porcelain plate in the waitress’ hand. It went flying, causing the contents of the sandwich, which included asparagus, tomato and mayonnaise, to elaborately soar downwards in slow motion, and come to a halt, smack bang on the floor in a crescendo of shattering plates. The murderous look on the waitress’ face didn’t falter, even after we apologised profusely and offered to clean the mess up ourselves. So the best we could do was smile kindly and watch as she brought out the rest of our plates. I know it was an accident, but I feel so badly when food is wasted and also the extra work we had created for the waitress. This moment brought me gratitude for what I had received and I let that gratitude radiate throughout my body in kind of an energetic way that recharged me for the last part of our journey for the day.

Returning to the road, we wound our way through the slight mountain ranges of Asturias and the last 8 km of the day entertained us with stark contrasts of deep valleys and steep climbs keeping us in check. We even felt that we stood a chance of getting the last few places at one of two Albergues, so the race was back on again! During the day, we had been passing or were being passed by a young Brazilian man, another group of three and an older man walking alone. With only 2 km to go, the young Brazilian man surged past us with an unearthly reserve of energy. One less place! It is funny how your mind plays the silliest tricks with you when something like this happens. I had to stop myself from imagining the scenario which always jumped to the front of my mind; the one where we would get there and they would say, ‘Sorry, but we only have four beds left and these guys just got here a minute before you.” We saw the older man just in front of us and with Cadavedo just 1500 meters up a steep hill, we knew we had what it took to pass him. It was now our turn to draw on our unearthly reserves of human energy and sure enough, we powered up the hill as if we were freshly starting the whole journey. I insisted immediately that instead of us all trying our luck to get the last few beds, Dad should just throw off his backpack, take our pilgrim credentia
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Menu Cari Dreamtime wisatawan Dalam Winds of Change Kami Selalu Cari kami Direction DAY 26: Mud, mayones dan Majestic Sunset aku melangkah ke sebuah mengalir genangan lumpur rawa untuk waktu 100 dalam satu jam terakhir. Aku mengangkat saya setelah hot-merah muda sepatu hiking keluar dari penjara squelching rawa sambil mendesah. Anda tidak bisa lagi mengatakan apa warna asli. Di belakang saya, saya mendengar teriakan marah dari keluarga saya, yang juga ditelan seluruh oleh air keruh dari rawa ini. Rawa lumpur abadi. Tidak ada jalan keluar. Kami terperangkap di bawah lapisan tebal dari kayu ek dan elm pohon, yang perlahan-lahan tersedak sampai mati oleh mencekik tanaman merambat yang bersaing keras untuk setiap kesempatan dari pucat lemah sinar matahari melayang ke kedalaman hutan suram ini. Kami terus seterusnya pada Camino kami, berselang-persimpangan di bawah kayu busuk bernoda hijau lumut, lebih menetes aliran lumpur dan melalui tak berujung bertinta hitam, berputar lumpur. Cahaya di ujung terowongan terbakar seperti keajaiban dan ketika kami berempat berhasil merangkak melalui pembukaan dan kembali ke dunia nyata peradaban, kita bersukacita sangat. Mengabaikan panah kuning St James ', yang akan memiliki membawa kita langsung kembali ke dalam rawa, kami berbelok ke kiri dan berangkat ke pemandangan rute sepanjang jalan, sementara bersiul tujuh gnome ini catchy "Hi Ho." Ya, itulah bagaimana bersyukur kita adalah untuk melihat langit. sementara jalan melakukan menyelamatkan kita dari keharusan untuk membuang sepatu kami sama sekali, berjalan itu selalu menguras, baik secara fisik dan mental. Entah bagaimana, beberapa cara, tar hitam mengalir kekuatan hidup dari Anda, membuat setiap langkah entah bagaimana berkepanjangan dan mengenakan pajak tekad mental Anda. Itulah cara pertama empat jam di jalan akhirnya merasa seperti satu hari berjalan sudah masa lalu. Kami semua keinginan istirahat, tetapi sebagai desa yang sedikit dan jauh antara di kaki ini, kami ingin tahu apakah kita benar-benar akan menemukan tempat untuk beristirahat sama sekali. Kami mendekati pinggiran desa dan ayah saya segera meminta beberapa orang lokal yang berdiri di pinggir jalan apakah ada tempat yang layak untuk makan. Mereka meyakinkan dia bahwa hanya 400 meter di jalan kita akan diberi makan dengan baik! Kata-kata itu musik di telinga kita, dan hum sukacita "Hi-Ho" kembali. Benar saja, segera kami duduk di sebuah kafe Hotel kecil, yang merupakan satu-satunya tempat yang menjual makanan untuk mil di sekitar. Kami baru saja memesan beberapa piring makanan ringan yang akan menjaga kita akan sampai tujuan akhir kami untuk hari. Pintu perak dapur berdesir terbuka dan seorang pelayan muncul, ahli menyeimbangkan tatanan sandwich kita. Berjalan ke meja kami, waktu membeku dengan kecepatan siput karena saya menyaksikan dengan ngeri pada kekacauan yang dimainkan di depan saya. Berbalik untuk mendapatkan garam dari meja apposing, tangan Dad terbang ke udara dan bertabrakan dengan lempeng porselen kecil di tangan pelayan '. Ia pergi terbang, menyebabkan isi sandwich, yang termasuk asparagus, tomat, dan mayones, untuk rumit melambung ke bawah dalam gerakan lambat, dan datang untuk berhenti, memukul bang di lantai dalam crescendo piring pecah. Tampilan pembunuh di 'wajah pelayan tidak goyah, bahkan setelah kami meminta maaf deras dan ditawarkan untuk membersihkan kekacauan atas diri kita sendiri. Jadi yang terbaik yang bisa kami lakukan adalah tersenyum ramah dan menyaksikan dia mengeluarkan sisa piring kami. Aku tahu itu kecelakaan, tapi aku merasa begitu buruk ketika makanan yang terbuang dan juga bekerja ekstra kami telah diciptakan untuk pelayan. Saat ini membawa saya rasa syukur atas apa yang telah saya terima dan saya membiarkan rasa syukur memancarkan seluruh tubuh saya di jenis cara energik yang diisi ulang saya untuk bagian terakhir dari perjalanan kita untuk hari. Kembali ke jalan, kami luka cara kita melalui pegunungan sedikit Asturias dan terakhir 8 km dari hari menghibur kami dengan kontras mencolok dari lembah dan tanjakan curam menjaga kita di cek. Kami bahkan merasa bahwa kita berdiri kesempatan untuk mendapatkan beberapa tempat terakhir di salah satu dari dua Albergues, sehingga perlombaan itu kembali lagi! Siang hari, kami telah melewati atau sedang melewati seorang pria Brasil muda, kelompok lain dari tiga pria yang lebih tua berjalan sendirian. Dengan hanya 2 km untuk pergi, pemuda Brasil melonjak melewati kami dengan cadangan wajar energi. Salah satu tempat yang kurang! Hal ini lucu bagaimana pikiran Anda memainkan trik konyol dengan Anda ketika sesuatu seperti ini terjadi. Aku harus menahan diri dari membayangkan skenario yang selalu melompat ke depan pikiran saya; satu di mana kita akan sampai di sana dan mereka akan mengatakan, 'Maaf, tapi kami hanya memiliki empat tempat tidur kiri dan orang-orang baru sampai satu menit sebelum Anda. "Kami melihat orang tua hanya di depan kami dan dengan Cadavedo hanya 1500 meter bukit curam, kami tahu kami memiliki apa yang dibutuhkan untuk melewatinya. Itu sekarang giliran kita untuk menarik pada cadangan wajar kami energi manusia dan tentu saja, kami didukung atas bukit seolah-olah kami baru memulai seluruh perjalanan. Saya bersikeras segera bahwa bukan kita semua mencoba keberuntungan kami untuk mendapatkan beberapa tempat tidur lalu, Ayah hanya harus membuang ranselnya, mengambil credentia haji kami













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