It's not the same Camino experience once you hit the 100k marker. The trail is now marked every .5k, a concrete countdown back to reality.
I was doing my best to stall and enjoy every last moment. C hit a grumpy patch, annoyed with the number of people, particularly the cyclists. In the previous sections there were times we would be walking alone, but most commonly we could count six pilgrims in front and behind us. Today there was a steady stream.
We passed by many farms and I admit that I've taken too many photos of cows. C likes to remind me that we have cows in Canada, but who can resist a face and a setting like this:
Our lunch break was at an oasis playing new agey music, where we joined our horse riding friends and met this sweet dog, caught halfway through a vigorous tail wag, who was more cooperative than the last one I attempted to photograph.
I know, we have dogs in Canada, too.
This is not the family mausoleum, but the area's unique grain storage sheds I had read about, designed to keep pests out.
Today's walk was along farmland right to the edge of Portomarin, where a tall bridge towers over the ancient Roman one. The funny thing is that the Roman bridge is only visible in seasons when the water level from the dam is low. Then other parts of the city prior to the flooding are apparent. Before the valley was flooded, important historical buildings were moved to the higher location, brick by brick.
Once again we are staying in a hostel over a bar in the next town over, as Portomarin was fully booked. The room is to the left of adequate, damp and worn, with a fair amount of flies. It's only for a night.
It's a holiday weekend here and there is a happily loud crowd in the bar below. I wonder how late it will go. Uh oh, they've just started to sing.