Moving On

During the night in Santo Domingo, thunderstorms raged through the night and lightening flashed on and off. As usual, I didn't get much sleep because the man in the bunk next to mine (a good 8 inches away) snored like a chain saw, as did most everyone in the dorm. I continued to be amazed at the huge variety of sounds that human beings make when they're asleep! In the morning, the usual packing ritual ensued and Rita, Ingeborg and I made our way just down the way to a cafe that was open.

It was still raining, and Ingeborg saw the little cart above. We weren't sure if someone attached this to a bicycle or whether they simply pulled it, but it looked like she was ready for business! Inside, we had our usual cafe con leche and discussed what to do. I had to say I wasn't really thrilled about walking in the rain, but Rita decided that walk she must, so she left us and headed out into the dark, wet morning. Ingeborg and I decided to take the bus to Burgos. This was where I knew we would part ways, because her husband was coming to meet her there for her birthday and then they would walk a ways together and he would go back to work in Germany while she continued on.

For me, I was feeling the arrival of "Mother Nature", and so I thought staying a day or 2 in Burgos would give my foot a chance to rest as well as possibly finding a private hostal room to actually sleep for a couple of nights. Then, I would carry on. I expected that the rest of the journey would be on my own and I was both sad to lose Ingeborg's company and excited to be able to walk as I had planned, without escort.

We got the bus shortly after. The day was lightening, but still wet and dreary. As the bus passed each little stop, I thought about where I might have stayed if, like Rita, I had continued walking. At one point, I looked out the window of the bus and saw the little man from Jakarta who had encouraged me at Los Arcos and who had greeted me so warmly at Lorca. He was on the Path, walking parallel to the road, but through fields and farmlands, his huge pack high above his head, covered in a bright yellow poncho. I had no idea what such a small man would be carrying in such a large pack, but he bore it very lightly and had a spring in his walk, even in the chilly, driving rain. His image will stay with me forever.

The bus crowded and unloaded at each stop. The right was only 50 Km (approx. 30 miles), but that was at least 2 days walking and the little towns in between were little more than bars with a gas station here and there. I was glad to be on wheels. At maybe the third or fourth stop, several young men got on, and when they saw my hat, started snapping their fingers in appreciation. "Cowboy!" I heard one of them laugh. I smiled back at them and said "De Colorado!" and they nodded. Then as they sat down, I saw someone I did not think I would see again--Doro! She, Ingeborg and I had a great reunion right there in the middle of the bus. Despite having spent the night indoors, she was still wet and bedraggled. She said she had walked late into the evening the night before and had got caught in one of the thunderstorms. She had been scared to death that she would be stuck by lightening before she found shelter, so decided also to take the bus to Burgos rather than risk another stormy night. I was so glad to see her and we made potential plans to stay together somewhere.

The bus ride was quick after that, and soon we were all piling out at the Burgos main bus station, getting our packs from underneath and heading for a last coffee together before we went our separate ways. Afterward, amongst hugs and a few tears, Ingeborg left to find her hotel, and Doro and I walked towards the Burgos cathedral to decide our plan of action.