After my grueling 18 mile day on Monday, I opted for a “short” 13 mile day yesterday, and opted to get a late start. The weather here in northern Spain has been absolutely beautiful in the mornings. Slightly cool, sunny, breezy. However, it can turn beastly hot from around 2:00 until about 6:00. Thus, the siesta culture.

My late start meant that I’d be walking in the heat of the day. A trade off between sleep and walking in the heat. So, off I went. I slathered myself with sunscreen and was slamming water all day. My goal was to get to Ventosa. But yesterday the temperatures hit 35 Celsius. Now, 35 Fahrenheit in Wisconsin is a nice spring day 😉, but 35 Celsius is 95 degrees Fahrenheit. While hiking. With no shade. I got to a couple of miles outside of Ventosa, and I Could. Not. Walk. Anymore. I’m determined (OK stubborn), but I’m not foolish. Rather than risking heat stroke, I decided to stop for the day. The problem was…I’d shipped my main backpack ahead to Ventosa and only carried with me a day pack containing that day’s essentials. (Many pilgrims do this, and it only cost 6 Euros).

What to do? I decided to arrange transport the last couple of miles to Ventosa. Un problema: everything I saw is closed for siesta. Because it’s late afternoon in Spain. And it’s hot. Did I mention it’s hot? Not panicking yet, I googled “taxi stand” and walked to it. Nothing there. I asked a couple of locals in broken Spanish and followed their directions. Nothing. I saw a bus stop across the street and thought maybe I could navigate public transport, but I didn’t see “Ventosa” on the posted bus schedule. I googled the phone number for the taxi service for the village where I was, and they informed me “Esto no es posible” for them to get me to Ventosa. What the actual? It’s only a few kms. Enter panic. A few self pitying tears and desperate prayers later, and I realized that I should just call the hostel in Ventosa and explain my predicament. The host was gracious and wonderful, and between his broken English and my broken Spanish, I gathered that I should try to find a bar that was open and have them call a taxi for me.

So, I looked behind me across the steeet, and there was a bar. And it was open. Apparently people still need “cerveza” during siesta (am I in Wisconsin?). I wearily walked in the door and told the bartender “Yo necessito un taxi a Ventosa, por favor”.

And, you guys? Here’s the Camino miracle: the lady standing at the bar worked for the taxi service as a dispatcher!! I’m not even kidding. She called the taxi service for me (and I’m pretty sure she scolded them for not helping the “peregrina Americana”). I thanked her profusely as the bartender handed me glass after glass of ice water. 15 minutes later, I was in my way to Ventosa, having skipped a couple of really hot kilometers that would have taken me an hour.

So, aside from appreciating the divine intervention here on the Camino, what did I learn? Flexibility. Those who know me well know that I struggle with rigidity. (Shout out to my coworkers who put up with me every day). I’ve been slavishly following the spreadsheet I created months ago for my daily distance. I realize that it is causing me to miss the entire point of the Camino…to watch, to listen, to observe, and to be open to what the universe throws my way. So, the spreadsheet is gone. I will get as far as I can each day. I will either adjust my return date by a couple of days, or forgo the several days of “add-on” mileage (Santiago de Compostela to Muxia and Finesterre) at the end of the official Camino. I can do this…listen to the rhythm of the days, and be open to what I’m supposed to learn.

I walked into the only bar/restaurant in town last night, and met up with Tina from Texas, and two of her Camino friends. Tina started the Camino the same day I did and was part of our communal dinner at Orisson a week and a half ago. We had a great dinner…pasta with chorizo, pork ribs in a sweet onion sauce, and a brownie with honey ice cream (the bar owner is a 3rd generation beekeeper and has 1400 hives through Spain!) The four of us ladies talked about what we’d learned so far, and how hard it is to connect with people, only to have them be a few towns ahead or behind a few days later. That’s the other lesson of the Camino that I learned these past two days….let things happen as they happen. Or, as the band “38 Special” says, “Hold on Loosely”.

My rest day today was indeed restful. Not much to do in this little village, but a beautiful hostel to rest my body, my soul and my spirit.

Buen Camino! (Good journey!)