Adelante.. people along the way, from the USA.

At Hotel Suiza, Arzua, we rested up after another, great walk in the sunshine. We met Mac, an Irish-American, from Boston. He had a colourful history, emigrating in hie early 20s and working as an “illegal “, for six years until he bought a 1000 28 cent stamps and made the same number of applications for a Green Card; he got one and joined the armed forces, ending up as a Marine, doing tours in places like Iraq. After that he took on the role of providing armed protection for VIPS, over there . At 50, he is now retired and was at a loose end, until he watched the movie, ” The Way”, which so affected him, that he decided to walk the Camino, in the hope it would give his life some focus.  He was hooked, like so many Americans, by the film. He was good company, though outrageously Republican in his views. He resembled a ” roamer”, a name given to the early pilgrims to Jerusalem, Rome and Santiago.

We also met a lady, over dinner, there, from Nashville, who was walking her first Camino, organised by a firm called Caminoways”. She got off to a bad start , as the airline “lost” her luggage , during a flight transfer, between Nashville and New York, which meant she had to walk her first day , in sweltering heat, in her civvies. However, with the help of her daughters on the phone, back home, she was reunited with her luggage, the next day. She was a formidable lady and I should have loved to have been a fly on the wall, during her conversation with travel company, who she described as……. After a bottle of Ribeiro, she had cheered up and gave Penny, Matt & I , a parting present of a pin each, tiny brooches, she had bought in Sarria. In that inimitable twang, she wished us good night, with ” Been good talking to y’all”.

Our  forecast for the next day’s walk to O Pedrouzo, was steady rain. So ponchos to the fore.

THIS IS FOR MAC, BUEN CAMINO

6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
Blurred out lines
from hangovers
to coffee
Another vagabond
lost to love.

4am alone and on my way.
These are my finest moments.
I scrub my skin
to rid me from
you
and I still don’t know why I cried.
It was just something in the way you took my heart and rearranged my insides and I couldn’t recognise the emptiness you left me with when you were done. Maybe you thought my insides would fit better this way, look better this way, to you and us and all the rest.
But then you must have changed your mind
or made a wrong
because why did you
leave?

6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
I replace cafés with crowded bars and empty roads with broken bottles
and this town is healing me slowly but still not slow or fast enough because there’s no right way to do this.
There is no right way to do this.

There is no right way to do this.”
― Charlotte Eriksson