The day started out with a quick breakfast in the albergue
And then came many nice kms of Galician countryside. Even the eucalyptus and windmills look pretty in the mist:
(Point of information -- these groups of windmills are called parques eólicos, named after the Greek god of the wind, Aeolus. Pretty erudite, don't you think?)
After a couple of hours walking, the group of us that had set out at about the same time were spread out over a longish distance along a long, straight country road. The guy in the lead, French, turned and started muttering to me but I had no clue what he was saying. A few more minutes, and I realized I hadn't seen any arrows for a while, but I took comfort from the fact that there was someone in front of me and four behind me. At the next intersection, again no arrows, it became pretty clear we had missed something. So we stopped and waited for the rest to arrive. Consensus was clear-- we missed an arrow. The French guy just wanted to take a random left turn, the Spanish guy thought we should keep going till the next town and then figure it out, and the Spanish couple just stood their bemoaning their fate. The young Korean woman and I agreed the thing to do was to flag down a car and ask for help. Quite a few cars ignored our waves --would you stop for a bunch of shaggy wet pilgrims with flowing ponchos and walking sticks (did I mention it was raining?).
Finally a kind man stopped and told us we could get to our destination by staying on the highway, giving the Spanish guy a momentary triumph. But when pressed, he admitted he had no idea if it was the camino, but it was 12 more km on the side of the highway. The second car we managed to stop was a local who knew exactly where the camino was and informed us we had missed a turn-off about 1 1/2 or 2 k back. Grrrr. What's hard to understand is how so many people missed the big granite mojón taking us off the road. I guess when you see one or several people walking ahead of you, and you know they're going to the same place you are, you just forget to pay attention. Hence the lemming reference.
It was interesting to see everyone's reactions to the news that we should backtrack a few kms. For the Spanish couple, it was cause for more bemoaning, for the French guy, it was time to bolt away and make up lost time. For the Spanish guy, it was an example of how the camino is a reflection of real life, and he began to draw out in great detail the comparison between missing an arrow on the camino and missing something obvious in "real life." For me and my Korean friend, though, it was something much less profound -- just what we needed to make our decision between Muxia and Fisterre. With these extra kms added to our day's walk, we knew we'd be turning right at the split.
And so we walked together through more Galician countryside
And made our way to the huge modern albergue in the town of Dumbria. The founder of the Zara stores is from this town and gave the money to build the albergue. Sheer albergue luxury.
Only problem is that the 5 cafe/bars and two food shops are all closed. Not because it's Sunday, but because there is a big fiesta two towns away. A couple of us had the bright idea to call the one local taxi to take us to the fiesta so we could get something to eat, but we learned that he is also at the fiesta and is not interested in our business. Looks like a dinner of yoghurt, peanuts and raisins, and a sliver of chocolate.
Tomorrow Muxia, one of the places most devastated by the Prestige oil spill a few years back. But also the place where Martin Sheen ended his camino in The Way.
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