Madrid!

Holy Road Trip!
The Camino does not want to let go...
Up at 7am, coffee and croissants, then cycle down to train station and car rental.
We get two cars, VW Jetta and Fiat Bravo...more like, OhNo.
The Jetta can't fit the five bikes, but the Fiat gulps them nicely. After a few hiccups...gas tanks not full, mileage not balancing, we are ready...
Fiat says, No Start!
Ann finally walks over and asks Brian to apply Cojones, still....no start. Rental woman gets in, starts perfectly, and we are off...to the parking lot gate, where our parking tickets have expired and will not let us out...parking guy says, "not my problem".
Ann lets a bit of steam out at the rental woman and she gets us new exit tickets and we are off!
In Ourense, we stop and have a nice meal, head back to the cars, and Fiat will not start. No joy. Cojones or no, not starting. I get in for my big attempt, no joy..however, futzing around, Fiat speaks, and...Ann stalls pulling out of the very tight slot.
This was the last time "Fix it again, Tony" spoke to us. Ann gets on the cell phone to EuropCar and they tell us it is a Portugese registered Tony and we need to call EuropCar Portugal.
Steam is visibly appearing now, not just with Ann. Dad and I stay with the dead Fiat, the rest get in the VW and drive to the Ourense EuropCar to get another car, my idea was to leave Tony at the side of the road to be dealt with by the rental place and grt to Madrid.
They show up with a mechanic in tow, driving a big car hauler...Tony doesn't speak his langauge, either. Now EuropCar knows it's not just dufus tourists.
Arturo, the mech, is cool. He wastes no time getting Tony on the back of the hauler..he puts it in front of the Fiat, tilts the bed, and drives Tony onto the back with the starter motor in first gear..take that, you pesky Italian!
We drive to the auto shop, Dad and I with Arturo, the rest following behind in the rush hour traffic, and then we go to rent another car...which turns out to be another Tony!
However, he speaks our language, and by about 6pm we've gotten back to the shop, transferred the bikes and luggage, and are on the road..five hours after stopping for lunch.
We've got about 400km to go, and we're flying along at 140kph...the kilometers are spinning down. As we approach Madrid, the sun is going down, we are surrounded by thunderheads, ancient churches, and ruined castles...very pretty.
The plan was to call Carmen on one of our Spanish cell phones and have her guide us in, but one at a time, they both run out of call time.
You might think that midnight would be a quiet time to enter a city, but not in Spain, and not Madrid. Ann gets ahold of Carmen briefly, she is at her mothers, and Ann remembers, sort of, how to get there. Here I am, driving Tony down freakin' narrow streets, midnight, trying not to clip the cars on either side OR lose Brian, right ahead, who I have to follow closely enough to not lose, and give enough room to let him make his abrupt lane changes/turns and still stick with him. Only 14 hours on the road, too. We find Carmen, she gives us the garage remote, and it is the same dance of autos to her house. We don't get lost, much, or lose each other, and arrive about midnight.
Yikes...Long day.

Santiago!

Whew...
If I never hear...
"It's all downhill from here"
again..
I'll be glad.
Rolled into town at 4pm, threaded our way through traffic, pilgrims, tourists, and patient locals to the Santiago Cathedral, the finish line for the Camino.
We got one of the pesky walkers that kept up with us to get our photo in front of cathedral, and then spent an hour finding our hotel...where I collapse into bed for my afernoon nap. It is not really a nap, more of comatose lapse.
42km today, up/down/up/down...not much more of the cowpie goo, and the weather has been pretty nice...ok, not raining is nice now.
Tomorrow we go do the traditional pilgrim stuff, rub St. James's belly, see the pilgrims mass, and get our Compostela, the certificate from the church that states we finished the pilgrimage. It is supposed to absolve you of all past sins (I call it my 'Get out of hell free card)
Pilgrim's Mass is actually quite cool. I suppose it would be better if I understood what they were saying, of course..but there were teary eyes in many spots. The huge swinging sensor (incense holder..65lbs)was quite impressive, 6 monks haul it up after they fill it with incense, and get it going in a huge arc, Dad is going to pace it off...once a surveyor...
He guessed at least a 200' arc.
At 6pm we took a tour of the Cathedral and surrounding plazas with an English speaking guide that was very amusing at times...
He showed us the old hospital, now a Paradore hotel, avery expensive chain of hotels in Spain, always located in historical buildings. This one has rows of gargoyles that double as rainspouts. The two directly over the main entrance have their mouths twisted sideways, so that the entry is rainfree...
He says, "Now count three over from the right one over the entrance, check out that gargoyle...you'll notice it has the rain coming out...a different orifice..".
The drain was a gargoyle mooning the plaza, with a large set of cojones adjacent...you can guess where the water came out.
The tour guide also pointed out a quartet of statues near an entrance inside, one of which was St. Daniel, who was smiling...which is unusual for a Catholic statue.
Rumor has it he is smiling because of the naked breasts on the statue across the pathway...which the shocked clergy kept reducing the bust size on. The enterprising Spanish made up for the smaller titties on the statue by making their cheeses shaped like breasts...'tittillas'.
I just can't help myself...and pipe up: "So, is this where the custom of saying 'Cheese' to get people to smile for photographs came from? St. Daniel leering at titties!?"
Everyone burst out laughing, and Ann said it was being translated into many languages...
I know what I will be thinking of when saying 'Cheese' from now on!
We are renting cars tomorrow and stuffing ourselves, our bikes, and our luggage into them in the morning and driving back to Madrid and our flight home Saturday morning.

Portomarin > Palas de Rei > Arzua

We get a very late start, bedtime was after midnight, and we have to clean the cowpie/sand slurry off the derailleurs, brakes, wheels, etc. We finally have a no-rain day, however...29km to a town on a hill, Palas de Rei. LOTS of walkers now, all you have to do is walk 100km for your compostela, a lot of wussie types fly into Santiago, taxi out to the 100km point, and walk in...it might be a coincidence, but we've seen many more Americans since we past that point. Now we are in an internet cafe in Arzua, checking email, sucking down Galician beers, and watching a Bond movie...en espanol. Today was a 31km day, up and down hills, the downs are fuuuuuun! Uphill sucks....I usually walk them. Brian got a nice nail, 3 holes, and on a downhill, so he broke a spoke by the time he could stop...he was right on my ass on that downhill, my luck holds again.
Galicia is gorgeous, greens of every possible combination...Dad says no more cowpie trails, so they are now burro-pies..shhhhh. Great dinner, same bar...an Australian woman joins us, we passed her (briefly) on the trail, and ended up in the same places. It is amazing how well we keep up with the walkers..some unique Russell trait...it was the same last year.
Today is Toms 13th birthday, tomorrow we arrive, St. James willing, in Santiago, 38km away. It has been a trial, and a trail, of enlightenment. Most photos today were with the Canon, so I'll have to steal Brian's computer away to resize a few for you, but here is a Galician uphill. Thanks for enduring this with us.. David

Triacastela > Portomarin

Via Rio Cowpie Milkshake...
Holy Crap...I mean, literally.
We had a wonderful, sunfilled ride from Triacastela via Samos, although with a late start, we slept in until 8am!
OhMyGawd! I'm sure!
We ride own a river mostly, farms, trees, cool paths, a very lovely old mill, we took lots of photos, including another burro co-existing with a long horn. The burro would bug the longhorn until she whipped her head about, then use her horns for precise scratching opportunities. The burro was in the field at the monastery in Samos, a very old (6th century) monastery, that took both nuns and priests, and was run by a married couple of virgins.
Hmmmm. Yearly checkups?
It was very beautiful, located in the curve of the river..as we were watching, a nun came out with a flock of chickens, but we missed the photo opp. One thing about Spain, eggs are in almost every meal, but chicken is very rare to find in a dish.
We got picnic stuff, our first sunny, warm, nice day, and stop at a peregrino picnic site on the river..lovely. Wine, fresh bread, pate, cucumber, tomatoes, chorizo, salami, chocolate, cherries, yummers.
Don't fret, Cowpie approacheth...
Now, you recall we are pounding the kilometers away, and discussed a possibility of 'Taking it Easy'...I mean, no use getting to Santiago a week ahead of time...Right!?
SOMEBODY decides that since we slept in, we should press on until 6 or 7pm, it is light until 10pm here..
I mean, why not? Everyone else except your faithful writer goes along with this, an apparently collective brainfart causing the memory of the ENTIRE time here in Spain, the last two weeks...
Rain starts at 4pm.
So in Sarria, at 4pm, after 30km....they, not we, decide to press on...
I say.."uh, why? 30km not enough?"
"You all forget the places fill up this late, we'll have to press on until Portomarin...22km farther?"
Out of Sarria we have a 200 meter climb, followed in 10km or so by another 50 meter climb, then the descent to Portomarin. The rain starts just up the hill from Sarria.
5km out, just about halfway up the hill, we are soaked. It gets worse...the trails the Camino use are also used by...cows.
As Tom points out..."that ain't mud".
The rain continues....now it is after 6pm, the cows are coming home...one woman is driving five of them up the trail and they are balking at passing us..the first is resisting, she is in the rear, yelling in Spanish..the fourth one wheelies onto the third, as if her udder was another utensil, and drives them right past, mounted the whole way. All of us are laughing, including the old woman, and because of the driving rain, alas, no photos. We bounce, bash, and splash up and down creekbed/trails
Now, the descent begins...rivers of cowpie milkshake are flowing down the trail, I mean, 6" deep, rocks, muck, indescribably toxic goo. Where it was level was worse, foot deep muck, you did NOT want to put your feet down, falling over was out of the question...Now it is 8pm...still raining, muck, gravel, rocks, bicycles...all flowing downhill...nobody crashes, thank Santiago!
Finally Dad bails, he and Ann take a chance and try a paved road, Tom, Brian, and I keep bashing down the riverbed/trail...I did get a photo and a movie of one section, but on my little Canon, which I can't resize the photos on, the Nikon has in-camera editing/resizing, but I am not taking it out!
10pm, we roll...squishingly...into Portomarin. I am a bit upset, it was an adventure, yes, and fun, ok...but completely un-necessary.
52km, left at 10am, got in at 10pm. We just barely find a restaurant open for dinner, and collapse into bed after midnight.
We call this...
Taking it Easy.