Day 2 - Vilarserio to Cee (37 km)

What a day! Where to begin? Perhaps at the beginning is best.

When I last wrote to you, I reported that Nina and I had decided that if the predicted wild weather came to pass we would take the bus the 20 kms to Olveiroa.

When we woke this morning 'esta lloviendo gatos y perros' - it was raining cats and dogs - with storm clouds gathering. 'No hay problema' - we would just catch the bus to the end of this stage as we'd discussed. With that in mind we packed our bags and walked the few steps up to the cafe - owned by our hosts at the private Albergue - to enjoy a leisurely breakfast and enquire about the time for the bus. All good so far. That's when the day took an unexpected turn.

No, there is no bus from here, the señora told us. We later reflected that we had each made the same assumption - that we could pick up the bus along the way at the place of our choosing. So many people say 'I think I'll take the bus to Finisterre' rather than walking. And that's fine - from Santiago. But The Camino doesn't connect with the bus route (until you get to Cee, about 70 kms along the way). And we're not sure why we thought that it did, when there was no evidence of that given some of the countryside we'd walked through the day before. Strange, how two people made the same incorrect assumption independently.

So we laughed at our mistake, accepted that we would be walking after all and calmly finished our breakfast. I mean, how bad could it be? We would soon find out.

Over the next 2 hours and 9 kilometres we experienced first hand the relentless rain and wind (from all directions) of the untamed Galicia written about in my guidebook. We soon realised we had crossed the line from dedicated pilgrims to crazy pilgrims. Nina was in trouble early on as she didn't have waterproof pants. I fared much better for the first hour but the drenching rain soon got the better of my waterproof jacket. Once the jacket is completely drenched, there's just nowhere else for the water to go but to seep through. My trousers did a better job but it was a tall order.

We did our best to jump over puddles that were soon more like small raging rivers as the heavy rain continued. At one stage when we couldn't navigate a section of road that had become a lake, we climbed a fence into a farmer's paddock in an effort to walk around the problem. But before long there was little point in such strategies. Our boots, socks and feet were drenched - despite the gore-tex - so we just walked through the puddles, small rivers and mini-lakes without a second thought.

I have to tell you that despite - or rather because of - our predicament, we were in good spirits and soon found that we were laughing at our misadventure, though this was at least in part to distract from the somewhat worrying aspects of our situation. What choice did we have? During that 2 hours and 9 kilometres we did not see a single person, animal or vehicle.

But despite our good humour, we knew that something had to be done. Though we remained positive and enjoyed the slapstick nature of our misadventure neither Nina nor I were interested in getting pneumonia or being struck by a falling branch or the lightning that was threatening. We resolved that when we reached the small village of Maronas where there was a cafe, according to my book, we would find a solution. And we did and it was an easy decision. We continued on and finally, thankfully, arrived safely in Maronas. The feeling of relief was immediate as we burst into the dry and cosy cafe. We asked the hospitalero if there was a local taxi driver who could take us to the coastal town of Cee (some 28 kms on - a town on The Camino Finisterre, from which there is also a bus). 'Si',he told us and offered to make the call. The taxi would be here in 15 minutes. Grateful for his help and that he welcomed us despite the fact that we were drenched from head to toe and dripping all over his establishment, we ordered 'dos cola cao' (two hot chocolates) and happily waited for our rescue vehicle.

And that's how we came to travel 37 kilometres today - 9 on foot and 28 by car. It was a strange feeling sitting in the back of the taxi. Over the last 32 days I had covered more than 850 kilometres and this was the first time I had travelled by any means other than my own two feet, with my backpack 'Boots' on my back and with the aid of my two walking poles, Juan 1 and Juan 2. And I think this was the first time it has really sunk in for me - not walking into Santiago on Sunday, but today sitting drenched in the back of this taxi with my Camino friend, Nina.

One way or another, we will arrive in Finisterre tomorrow, just 16 kilometres on from here. We'll find a nice Casa, hopefully with a view of the Atlantic Ocean, leave our packs behind and some time later we will walk the final 3.5 kilometres to the lighthouse on Cabo Finisterre - at the end of the world. It's exciting. It would be too much to expect a clear afternoon to enjoy what would be a spectacular sunset. But stranger things have happened on The Camino.

Hasta Luego, mis amigos.

P.S. Many thanks again for your emails and comments over the last few days. Too many to mention everyone so just a few 'first timers' - Patrick (my Camino amigo), Lilly and Bill, Mandi, Amanda and Kate. So glad you have enjoyed sharing The Camino. And to Iago and Richard - if you're reading this - I was thrilled to get your email and to hear you had arrived safely in Santiago. I will reply in proper style soon.

P.P.S. Only a couple of photos from today. It was too wet to take out the camera, so I've added a few of St Jean Pied de Port on the very first day of my Camino.