Entrepreneurs of Eirexe

Somehow, we are walking faster it would seem.  I am not complaining, less time on our feet means more time to rest, relax, and recover for the next day's trek.

We crossed another bridge today on our way out of town that was just as bad as the one coming in to town yesterday.  It was not nearly as long, but just as high, and it was only a rickety footbridge barely three feet wide and with a surface of iron sheets that were crowned for drainage, making them uneven and unnervingly unstable for walking.

Most of today's trail was climbing, through forest.  We stopped for our second cup of coffee at a hamlet called Castromaior, which means "old town." it is old indeed, boasting the ruin of an old pre-roman Iiberoceltic "castrum" (where the word castle comes from) that dates to the late Iron Age.  It has been inhabited more or less continually since, though the modern town does not sit on a fortified hilltop as the ancient castrum once did.

The place we are staying tonight, Eirexe (if you can pronounce that, let me know) is so small, the postal address of the place we are staying is actually the next town over.  There is not much here but an albergue, our pension, a few houses, a bar, and of course an ancient church.

I am continually amazed by the kindness of the people we encounter.  In the next town over we saw a sign advertising free coffee and tea for pilgrims, and when we went to investigate, we were greeted with a kind word, coffee, and prayers for a safe journey.  Our benefactor was simply a lady with a house on the trail who wished to show kindness to strangers, and I'm reminded of the parable of the sheep and the goats.

At our pension we encountered another unexpected kindness.  We arrived early, and as the pension was not full, the owner gave us a private suite - two bedrooms and a bath, for the princely sum of 50 Euros.  This is not four-star lodging, but I've found that if the room is clean, the shower hot, and the bed generally comfortable, I am 
more than content.  They are also doing out laundry for us Ina machine, a much-needed indulgence, as hand-washing clothes is not one of my more well-developed skills, and even when "clean" my clothes don't seem as clean as I would prefer.

The bar, where we went for lunch, seems to be run by three young men who look barely old enough to be out of school.  And I think they mean well but I sense they are still learning the business. The service was iffy, even by Spanish standards, the wine was so bitter I asked for Sprite to mix with it, and the steak needed to be seasoned before it was cooked.  My first course (soup) and dessert (pancakes with caramel syrup) were fantastic.  As I said, I think they are learning, and I hope it goes well for them.  They have the advantage of being the only place in town.  If they are in fact in partnership together, I say good for them for taking a risk when many their age seem to have little interest in making their own way in the world.

So, while parents are upstairs taking a siesta, I'm sitting on the patio in front of our pension watching the big fluffy clouds go by and appreciating the hit-and-miss sunlight and warmth as I write this.  There is a picnic area next to the road and a Spanish pilgrim family are enjoying their lunch and taking pictures of a rather large cow that has wandered up to see what's going on.  

Across the street is a crew doing construction and road work for the little burg we're in.  This brings up an interesting point.  We have yet to walk through a town where there is not some kind of project like this, and all the signs related to the project indicate the work is being financed by the European Union.  This is a curious phenomenon, for many Spaniards I've talked to would tell you that they have lost both purchasing power and accumulated wealth as a result of Spain's participation in the Euro and the EU.  Clearly they benefit on the macroeconomic level through investments in infrastructure and other EU "payments" but is it worth the cost in terms of higher price levels on the microeconomic level?  
 Greece is saying it is not, but Portugal, Ireland, and Spain are keeping ominously quiet on the subject.

We only have four more days of walking, and I find myself relieved and saddened. This has been an unforgettable journey.  What does the future hold? I hope that I have learned, a bit, to embrace the unknown, and trust, rather than to fear the future and try to control it.