Camino Primitivo Stage 2 – Grado to Salas

After a quick breakfast at the Albergue this morning, I left Grado with Alice and the German duo, Sabine and Ernest. Ernest is 84 years old and has walked the Camino Primitivo several times. He doesn’t speak English but Sabine, who’s about my age, translates for us. Let me tell you, this man can walk. Fast! Sabine takes it easy especially going up hills so I was usually in between the two of them most of the time. I got good at pantomiming to him where she was behind us. It was an overcast morning, as most were. And we started going uphill, which would become the theme on most days.

After a few miles, we stopped for a quick pit stop and to let Sabine catch up to us. A large group of pilgrims caught up to us, including Gary, whom I had met yesterday. He continued on then I met another American, Suzanne from California. We started chatting and didn’t stop until we arrived in Salas that afternoon. She is a social worker who also teaches and writes and became another member of my Camino family.

It stayed overcast the whole day but thankfully didn’t rain. Our group of five kept moving along with Ernest in the lead. Today’s journey took us along roads, past pastures full of cows, a monastery, and forested trails. Spain is absolutely beautiful and the small villages we pass through are right out of the history books.

For the last few miles, it was just Suzanne and me as the others fell behind to stay with Sabine. They were actually supposed to go farther than we were that day. I was exhausted by the time we finally arrived in Salas and stopped in a grocery store to get some snacks and a drink. That night we stayed at Casa Sueno, a lovely place that had both a hotel and albergue along with a restaurant. Suzanne and I got adjacent bunk beds and there were several men also staying there with us. After showering and doing laundry, we went over to the restaurant where we sat for the next several hours.

As Suzanne and I sat enjoying some food and a tinto del verano, Gary walked in and joined us for dinner. He and Suzanne both work in the same field and hit it off instantly. The three of us have very similar political views and had great conversations this evening and in the days to come. At some point I met another American, we’ll call him Tex since he’s from Dallas, and he ended up joining our group for dinner. Now, I live in Texas but I am NOT the stereotypical Texan. I don’t even consider myself to be a Texan since I only came here because my ex got stationed here. As soon as my sons finish college my plan is to relocate, the sooner the better! Tex IS the stereotypical Texan and this fact came out loud and clear during dinner that night. Our blatant philosophical differences ended the night early. I would, however, see Tex several more times during our journey to Santiago.