From Portomarin, we walked to a tiny place called Eirexe. Rain was falling all day - a steady drizzle with occasional drenching showers. Then, the next day, we got up and walked another day in the rain. This time stopping in O Coto. O Coto is so small that the only thing there is the B&B we stayed at. The proprietress was a raspy-voiced, belly-laughing soul who asked how old dad was. When I told her she exclaimed," Ay, que guapo!"
Yes, he does look great.
She fed me chicken soup (I have sniffles from days of damp) and fed Dad a thin steak and fries - all the while patting one or the other of us on the arm and bellowing out some jovial comment we could not understand.
In wakeful moments during the night, I listened to the rain coming down in sheets. My socks were hung on the heater in hopes they would be dry by morning. Looking at them, I suddenly realized the practical logic of stockings hung by the chimney - it's not just about Christmas presents.
The rain was still falling heavily as we ate our toast and drank our cafe con leche this morning. Our hosts shook their heads and waved their arms, fingers fluttering to demonstrate just how much rain was falling as they shouted, "Lluvia!" (Rain).
Yeah, we knew. Rain. Lots of rain.
We pulled on waterproof rain pants, panchos and hats and set out. It rained all day again. We walked up hill and down dale along muddy woodland paths. Beautiful, soggy landscape. By the time we reached Arzua, today's destination, we were soaked through.
Our boots are stuffed with newspaper so they will be dry in the morning. Our clothes are draped over the heaters so we can pack or wear them tomorrow. We plan to walk to Arca Do Pino (Pedruozo, Galicia) tomorrow (Thursday the 18th) - about 20 km.
The day after tomorrow, we'll arrive in Santiago. The weather forecast taunts us with pictures of suns overlaid with raindrops. What does that mean? Hopefully, it means - rainbows.
Very few pictures. I can't be pulling the iPhone out in a deluge. The structure is a grainery - traditional to Galicia - built up on stilts to protect the stores from vermin (and flooding, one supposes). The lace was a project of our jocular hospetalera in O Coto. The roll-y bags belong to one of the tour groups that stayed at the same hotel with us in Portomarin. They had nice clothes to wear at dinner.