Thirty Third Day On The Camino Saturday, October 20, 2018

What in the world is this? It is a pile of donkey droppings, or donkey apples. You are probably wondering why I have a picture of donkey droppings as the lead photo on the blog today. Well, it’s a long story. During the first stage of this walk I started to hear people talking about these two women Pilgrims who were dressed in medieval pilgrim clothes and walking with a donkey. They have become a legend on the Way. There are thousands of Pilgrims on the trail, all ages, sizes and nationalities. But there is only one donkey pilgrim and only these two women who are doing the whole Way as real old timey pilgrims. I thought they were ahead of us and I have been following what I thought was their trail of donkey droppings. Many of you might not know this but I am a very skilled tracker, reader of signs on the trail and diviner of donkey droppings. Well, it turns out that instead of being in front of us, the two old timey pilgrims and their donkey were behind us this whole time. Boy was I surprised yesterday afternoon when what did I see at the alburgue but two medieval pilgrims unloading their luggage from the panniers on their donkey. For those of you who are not knowledgeable in the equine lingo, panniers are the luggage holders you put on your horse or donkey or for that matter your yak or your llama to hold your luggage.

I gave all three of them a big hug, told them how excited I was to finally meet them and introduced myself. Well, you would have thought I was the king of England based on their over the top enthusiastic response to my introduction. They were bouncing up and down like they were on pogo sticks, which is impossible because they did not have pogo sticks in medieval times.

Apparently, a week ago they made an extended pit stop at the Cowboy Bar.

The owner of the Cowboy Bar told them that I had visited him, that I was the only rootin tootin Colorado cowboy 🤠 on the Camino and that I had schooled him on the Cowboy Code of Conduct and corrected his bad ass attitude. It sounds like I have become somewhat of a legend at the Cowboy Bar. The two medieval pilgrims were so excited to meet a real cowboy and when they found out that on top of being a legendary cowboy I am also an experienced and expert mule skinner, they dropped to their knees and thanked God for their great good fortune. I got them up off their knees and we had a good palaver about the advantages and disadvantages of horses versus donkeys as pack animals. I set them straight on a few of the finer points of handling donkeys and they were very appreciative.

They wanted a few pictures for their blog. Francesca is wearing the white hat and Marina is wearing the red dress. They are from Italy. The donkey’s name is Dordora. The donkey is from France. It makes perfect sense to me that the donkey is French.

After we took some pictures for Francesca and Marina’s blog, Giorgio, Nuncia and I went to the pilgrim mass and blessing. After the Pilgrim blessing we hightailed it back to the alburgue where everyone was waiting on us to start dinner. The chef/owner of the alburgue had everyone stand and hold hands while he blessed the meal and our pilgrimages. After that he had two people bring out a paella pan the size of a truck tire full of chicken and vegetable paella.

I had seconds, thirds and fourths. After we finished the paella we had salad. I know, I know, the salad should come first but no matter how hard I try to explain this simple concept to these Spaniards, they refuse to serve the salad as a first course. I have given up and have decided to go along with this backwards meal sequence. After salad we had a bowl of fresh and succulent purple plums for dessert.

This morning I got up early and showed Francesca and Marina a few tricks of the trade when it comes to the proper way to saddle and pack a donkey. They were very appreciative that I would share my extensive donkey packing expertise with them.

When you get to the alburgue you shower and wash your clothes, including your under garments, and hang them on the clothes line to dry. Because everyone hangs their underwear on the same clothes line everyone knows what kind of underwear you are wearing. Francesca and Marina were medieval pilgrims on the outside but Vegas showgirls when it comes to their foundation garments. Va va va voom!

They wanted a few donkey pictures for their blog and I was only to happy to comply.

Looking at these pictures I realize that my ears are almost as big as the donkey’s ears. Maybe the Eighth Street neighborhood gutter snipes should have called me donkey ears instead of monkey ears.

The two people to the left of the picture are the owner/chef of the alburgue and his girlfriend. They were such gracious hosts.

This is me with my new BFF.

After we got the donkey all loaded up I had a little argument with Abe. When he was an attorney in Springfield he used to ride the circuit on his horse, Old Bob. He wanted to ride the donkey for old times sake. I told him that this was a pack donkey, not a riding donkey and that he would have to ride the back of my pack like he has been doing for the last 32 days. He tried to issue an “Abe gets to ride the donkey Executive Order” but I told him that he could not enforce it because, technically, he is dead and not the President of the United States 🇺🇸 anymore. He doesn’t like to be reminded that he is dead and on probation from heaven to make this trip. In the end, Abe reluctantly hopped up on my backpack and strapped himself in for another day of walking on the Way.

I had one more incident before we left the alburgue. All day yesterday the people at the alburgue have been calling me the American burrito, I thought, because I said I would kill for a smothered burrito. Someone pulled me aside this morning and told me that burrito is really the Spanish word for little jackass. So now I am confused. Is burrito, in Spanish, a term of derision or a term of endearment. Again, it would be helpful if everyone in Spain could learn to speak English.

The scenery on our walk from Villafranca to Vega was spectacular. Sunrise shots as we left Villafranca.

This is the river that runs through Villafranca.

We are getting closer to Santiago every day.

The fall colors are coming out in the river valley that we walked through from Villafranca to Vega.

This is the river in the valley that we have been walking through.

Closer and closer to Santiago.

We stopped in this church and lit a candle and said a prayer for Anna.

Another shot of the fall colors.

This is a shot from the bathroom window of our alburgue in Vega.

Nuncia made a simply wonderful vegetable soup for dinner and we had ice cream bars for dessert.

I hope everyone had a restful Saturday.

Good evening from Vega, Spain.