Sunday, 17th September.
And then there were four
Something really funny happened this morning, but it just
doesn't translate to the written word. I guess you'll all just have
to wait for the movie.
(movie? you are kidding aren't you?)
The girls did list one requirement for the actresses cast to
play the parts of "beautiful girls from Canadia": they must have
large breasts. I pointed out that it would then make the long
conversations we had about how ridiculous boob jobs look, and how
small breasts are better because big breasts sag with age,
seem more than a touch ironic.
Anyway, we are three no longer: Dave has joined us to make four.
We arrived in Santo Domingo de la Calzada via a dirty industrial
suburb. We found a refugio and checked in. The refugio was a big,
open hall. We washed our clothes out the back, while chooks pecked
around our feet, then collapsed for a siesta.
It wasn't easy getting to sleep. We had a world-class snorer in
our midst. And it wasn't me. And it wasn't Dave. It was some
Brazilian guy. Dirk had taken the bed next to him. Dirk is a
Dutch guy (funny name for a Dutch bloke, I know) and he is doing the
Camino with his girlfriend, whose name I can't remember. They're
both fluent in English, and speak Spanish a helluvalot better than
any of us.
Dirk was doing his best to get to sleep, but this Brazilian guy
was on a snore de force! After five or ten minutes of this, Dirk
threw his sleeping bag off and proclaimed: "This is a living hell!"
We dissolved in hysterics.
Later in the afternoon, Dave and I wandered around the town while
the girls slept. Or pretended to sleep. We watched a group of men
playing a game of soccer on a sealed pitch behind the school. All
of a sudden a dog was loose on the pitch, chasing the ball, then
getting chased by sweaty, swarthy Spanish men. (Must be what dating is like
for Spanish girls.) The dog was getting more and more worked up,
and then it had a crap on the pitch! The men were outraged! They
chased after the dog with renewed vigour, only for it to have another
sneaky dump on the pitch! We didn't stick around to see how it
panned out, we had a suspicion it could get ugly.
There were two live chooks in the church. I am not making this
up. There is a story behind the chooks being in the church, but I
just can't be bothered retelling it here. (Apathy rocks!)
In the evening there was a brass band playing outside the
refugio. Not for our benefit, it must be said, but it was something
to do with the forthcoming fiesta. They'd play one or two songs,
then retreat to the bar for twenty, thirty minutes. Then they'd
re-emerge to play another alcohol-fuelled song or two. The process
would then repeat.
The nuns fed us at dinner. We went to the other refugio in town
(which looked much nicer than the one we'd landed in) and the nuns
that run the refugio there
fed us up real good! Mmmm, those chips! They were goooooood. And
we had flan for dessert.