Of early morning rustling and the third day

Everyday we´ve been getting up earlier and earlier. When Frei and I hiked in Oregon, I complained about her rustling at 5:30, but now there´s anywhere between 15 and 75 people moving about by 6am. I hate them. It`s at least an hour into the hike before I get over my rage. The thing is, it´s always the loudest snorers who´re the first awake. We walk into our room and size people up based on how loud they´ll snore at night. Luke also claims he can diagnose fellow hikers based on their coughs and nighttime noises... pretty soon, I think he´ll start charging.

Today was my favorite day on the camino so far even though the third day is supposed to be the toughest. There were fields full of red flowers and mist over a meseta in the distance. We only went through one town - Villamayor - but we saw a Roman bath on the way, and there was a beautiful church. It´s weird because you´ll see an isolated medeival church on a hill and factories and highway in the background. You could probably see the majority of the route by car if you wanted to, but we feel physically and spiritually superior to our autopista counterparts. They´ve got somewhere to be... we only need to make the next town before the albergues fill up.

As we* were walking down the hill outside of town, an old man trudged past us lugging a large sack. I felt sort of bad with my hiking pole and hip strap and him all hunched over. When he passed me, I said "Hola!" and then he motioned for me to stop. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out two sweet gummy candies, and wished me a buen camino. It was pretty humbling. And delicious.

I´ve gone back to hiking in the Rainbows since the route is pretty tame, and they´re a great conversation starter. After this guy from Spain asked me about them and saw I could speak Spanish, he started telling me about everything we were passing. I learned the difference between the grape and olive trees, realized that all the grass in the distance is really wheat fields, and got an insider´s perspective on Spain and the trail. It´s funny the way the path brings together such a diverse group of people. If someone is going your speed and you can semi-communicate, you walk together. There are people from all over the world and varied backgrounds crammed into the bunk-filled rooms together. We get up together, stink together, and drink wine from fountains at 8am together.

* I use "we" loosely because I´m definitely the slowest of the group. My strides are short, what can I say? So, by we, I mean I mean I keep an eye on everyone when they go up a hill or around a bend but otherwise make new friends.