May 24 - Ventosa, Santo Domingo to Granon
Leaving Ventosa the next morning I see Andy ahead of me, his head down praying the rosary. Perhaps he is
discerning a vocation.
Many kindnesses were extended to me today. When I was undecided which road to take, a fellow pilgrim showed me the way. I asked about bus service. The directions were clearly pointed out to me although today I did not take it. It was 12:30 and the bus would not be there for another two hours. I could be walking.
A man helped me position the rain poncho that is so difficult to manage by one’s self.
A pilgrim from Texas offered to put my Silk Sac into my backpack. It was starting to drizzle and she was concerned for me it would get wet. She and her husband had been camping out nearly every night. They were in search of the next authorized camp ground.
Mistakenly I take the optional path up a steep hill which left me huffing ‘n puffing as I reach the outskirts of Granon. Just minutes earlier a few, fit cyclists flew by and stopped to decide whether to spend the night here. They take one look at my face and point me in the direction of the only Albergue in town which accommodates 40 pilgrims. It's a three-story monastery annex of the church around the corner.
Leaving Ventosa the next morning I see Andy ahead of me, his head down praying the rosary. Perhaps he is
discerning a vocation.
Many kindnesses were extended to me today. When I was undecided which road to take, a fellow pilgrim showed me the way. I asked about bus service. The directions were clearly pointed out to me although today I did not take it. It was 12:30 and the bus would not be there for another two hours. I could be walking.
A man helped me position the rain poncho that is so difficult to manage by one’s self.
A pilgrim from Texas offered to put my Silk Sac into my backpack. It was starting to drizzle and she was concerned for me it would get wet. She and her husband had been camping out nearly every night. They were in search of the next authorized camp ground.
Mistakenly I take the optional path up a steep hill which left me huffing ‘n puffing as I reach the outskirts of Granon. Just minutes earlier a few, fit cyclists flew by and stopped to decide whether to spend the night here. They take one look at my face and point me in the direction of the only Albergue in town which accommodates 40 pilgrims. It's a three-story monastery annex of the church around the corner.
Upon checking in the chief hosterilerio, a gregarious fellow, gives each pilgrim - man and female alike - a prolonged welcoming bear hug before registering our passports. Fee is donation only, as is the meal.
A community meal is served that evening. Someone misunderstood instructions about bringing something to share. I went to the neighborhood tienda – market – and bought a bag of chips, and a nice bottle of local vino tiento to share. Later I learn this is a mistake and stash the junk food and heavy bottle in my backpack to be dealt with later.
Community Dinner with Sing-a-Long
Everyone is encouraged to attend mass before dinner. This is the first time I experienced that, but after all this is a monastery. Some hold back and help prepare food for the communal meal, or wash dishes instead. Returning from church pilgrims assemble for a social in the dining room. I find that only two others, in the room of forty, are from the United States.
Everyone is encouraged to attend mass before dinner. This is the first time I experienced that, but after all this is a monastery. Some hold back and help prepare food for the communal meal, or wash dishes instead. Returning from church pilgrims assemble for a social in the dining room. I find that only two others, in the room of forty, are from the United States.
This is the largest group of pilgrims on the Camino that I've shared a meal with. The meal is lovely. The photo above shows a green salad with lots of tomatoes and large chunks of tuna. Containers of yogurt are served for dessert. There is also crusty bread and the ever-present lentil soup and this one I will never forget.
The host announces we are among 12 represented countries tonight. Next we are instructed, when called upon, to sing a song from our homeland. Well, at least there are three of us - seated at different tables. Apparently we are each equally shy about singing in public. When it's turn for Team USA none of us volunteer. The host looks on the roster for names of those from the U.S. My name came first. "Linda?" (I'm in the aqua blue shirt in the above photo.) I draw a blank and can't think of the lyrics of a single song except, "Mary had a Little Lamb." I pause then belt out “God Bless America,” a little off key, but not too bad. One of the other two from the U.S. later tells me she thought my selection was a little too patriotic. Well… where was she when the time came to volunteer to represent our country?
Aside from my own singing I enjoyed hearing voices in other languages, especially the high, sing-song, delicate tone of the young woman from Korea.
Laundry wash tubs and clothes lines are in the belry. I would find that clothes don't dry here either. The shower water was ice cold. I took a bird-bath.
Aside from my own singing I enjoyed hearing voices in other languages, especially the high, sing-song, delicate tone of the young woman from Korea.
Laundry wash tubs and clothes lines are in the belry. I would find that clothes don't dry here either. The shower water was ice cold. I took a bird-bath.
Surprising the majority of pilgrims find they enjoy the unique experience of sleeping on the floor. Mats and blankets are available. Above is a daytime view of my room holding 20 sleeping bags laid upon a thin foam mat. Pilgrims here were getting settled and some taking naps. The other 20 pilgrims were in another room. Even though we pilgrims sleep "cheek-to-jowl" the thin mat is not uncomfortable and I have a good night’s sleep. Others I meet along the Camino fondly remember this albergue and say they also enjoyed the unique experience.