Oct 8 - Muxia or no?

I wake up not knowing what I will do, lying in the bunk thinking, "well, I really could walk to Muxia, " and at any rate, have to get up and get out of the refugio by 8 am.  Pack up, and walk across the street to drink cafe con leche and eat tostada. I look at the guidebook and think. 33 kms.  I don't really know where the road is.  45 minutes later, I start walking, I still haven't decided.  I try to find the road to Praia do Mar de Fora, but get lost, I ask a man walking down the road, he points it out, I sorta understand, and he follows in the same direction.  The road ends far away from the water and I make my way across the 1/2 mile of dunes and plants to the shoreline. There must be an official route, I never do find it, bush-whack my way back to town as well.  I sat on the beach for a couple of hours, watched people swim in the high surf, near the "don't go in the water" signs.


Praia do Mar de Fora/L Herlevi

Paris Texas. T from Barcelona, misses bus, we eat almuerzo together, he points out how I pronounce "menu" incorrectly. He's right of course, I've been pronouncing it "mehnoo" in his presence, he picks at my attempts at spanish, making me less likely to speak it. Says I should move to Spain, I ask what I would do for a job, and say that the unemployment rate is high for Spaniards.  He catches the bus with me, watches as I jerk awake from "bus sleep,"says we have to get a divorce when we seemingly disagree about lock-up times in albergues. Arrive in the Santiago station, a kiss on cheek in bus terminal and he is gone forever, but after getting lost and meeting him, suddenly I am able to laugh again after I can't even remember how long. And I guess that would be the miracle, looking back at it.  And now I am off to find place to stay, stop by a pastry shop. It's windy in SdeC.  It was a 4-hour bus ride.