So last night I went to the pilgrim mass in the church next to the alburgue and after it was over I decided to go to the Super Mercado to get some yogurt and bananas for breakfast. As I was shopping I spotted a box of assorted mini ice cream bars. Somehow or other a box of these ice cream bars jumped into my shopping cart 🛒. After I checked out I realized that there was no freezer at the alburgue and I had to find a place to sit down and make a pig out of myself by eating all the ice cream bars in the box. I wandered around until I found a beautiful little park and sat at a picnic table and gorged on ice cream bars. There were eight mini ice cream bars in the box and after I ate six I was way beyond full. I couldn’t stuff another ice cream bar down my gullet with a two by four. I got up to walk back to the alburgue and after walking around for five minutes I realized I was completely, totally and utterly lost. And it was about 8:30 PM and everyone seemed to be inside doing whatever it is that Spaniards do in the evening. Now I am screwed big time because I am lost and there is no one around to palaver with to get directions. Yikes! So I wandered around for about fifteen minutes until I ran across a young woman who was walking her dog. As you all know, I listened to the Coffee Break Spanish podcast for an hour a day for three months before I came over here, so I speak pretty good Spanish. The trouble I have is when I ask a question, I don’t understand the answer. These people don’t speak any kind of Spanish that I can understand. I asked this woman “donde está iglesia” or where is the church, because the alburgue is right next to the church. I figured that if I found the church I could find the alburgue. In response to my simple request for directions to the church, I got a torrent of impassioned Spanish that lasted 5 minutes. At the end of this 5 minute Niagra Falls of Spanish she paused and said “Vali” pronounced Valley. When anyone in Spain ends a sentence with the word Vali you know you are now in The Twilight Zone. The literal translation of Vali is “OK?”
When a Spaniard is talking to me in Spanish and uses Vali at the end of of a sentence it means, ” Stupid American, did you understand anything I just said?” You can respond by either saying si, which is yes, or no which is no. I have no idea why all Spanish words aren’t as easy to understand as “no.” Before I come back I hope Spain works on their language so it is easier for me to understand. But I digress.
When someone ends a sentence in “Vali” it is a good bet that I did not understand a word they just said. If I say no I did not understand a word you just said, they will just repeat the sentence that I did not understand in the first place. I guess they figure that if they keep repeating their unintelligible Spanish, sooner or later I will understand whatever it is they are trying to tell me. I have done the “Vali” song and dance 💃 enough times that I am on to their game. No matter what they say, and no matter how confused I am, I always respond to “Vali” with an enthusiastic “Si!” I am still lost but I spare myself the frustration of listening to another round of unintelligible Spanish. I go from person to person, like a beggar in a Monty Python movie, asking the same stupid question over and over, until I find someone who can give me an answer I can understand, preferably in English.
Well, last night I was having a hard time even finding someone to ask directions, let alone someone who was able to give me directions in a language I could understand. I finally ran across the aforementioned young woman who was out walking her dog. I gave her my last two, now melting, ice cream bars and told her I was a monk in mufti who escaped from the monastery next to the church for a night on the town and I had to get back before they locked the doors of the monastery. She dropped to one knee, made the sign of the cross, and said something that sounded like, “Mother of God, what a jackass!” She then rose to her feet and led me to the church while her little dust mop of a dog tried to take a chunk out of my ankles. I had to keep saying, “What a cute puppy dog 🐶” and fight back the urge to kick the little ankle biter across the street. Well, we made it to the church and I blessed her and thanked her profusely in Spanish, which means I have no idea if I was thanking her or telling her to go to Hell. That is the challenge when you are trying to palaver in Spanish.
This morning Giorgio decided to sack in and we did not get out on the Way until 9:15, so no sunrise pictures. What can I say other than Giorgio is Italian and you all know that Italians are not morning people.
This is the river we had to cross to get out of Cacabelos.
This is a house on the outskirts of Cacabelos with a stream running under it. St. Rita’s mother’s family has a farmhouse with a stream running under it in Hardheim, Germany.
As we were walking from Cacabelos to Villafranca we were in wine country. These are a few pictures of the wineries.
These are shots of the stunning scenery along the Way today.
Giorgio helped me take a number of pictures of this beautiful villa on a hill in the middle of a vineyard.
What beautiful vineyards.
This is Villafranca.
This is the Door of Forgiveness at the Church of Santiago in Villafranca. In medieval times there were only two places along the Way where a pilgrim could get a Compostela or certificate of completion of the pilgrimage, at the Door of Forgiveness at the Cathedral in Santiago De Compostela and at this Church’s Door of Forgiveness. The tradition was that if a pilgrim made it to the Church of Santiago in Villafranca and could not continue to the Cathedral at Santiago, the pilgrim would be issued a Compostela here and all his or her sins were forgiven. Thus it is a very special historical place.
We went inside this very special church and said a prayer and lit 🔥 a candle 🕯 for Anna. One of those red votive candles at the foot of the altar is Anna’s candle.
We decided to stay at the alburgue next to the church. As luck would have it, Nuncia, Giorgio’s buddy who is a professional chef in Italy, was cooking a pasta 🍝 lunch for the alburgue staff and invited us to join them.
After lunch I thanked Nuncia for a bellisimo lunch. I told Nuncia that she might be a professional chef but at one time I was a professional dish washer and that I was going to do the dishes, along with my sidekicks Abe Lincoln and St. Christopher. She started to argue but Abe insisted and she finally relented and left the dishes to us while she and everyone else took a siesta. Tonight the owner/cook at the alburgue said he was going to make a paella 🥘 that will make me weep with joy. I can’t wait.
I hope everyone is having a great Friday.
Goodnight from Villafranca, Spain.
AbeAndMarkontheCamino 