The electricity in the albergue and the wee-fee in the village have been on & off so my posts aren’t uploading properly.  But everything is now tranquilo so I’ll try again.

There has been some political talk among the peregrinos — the Europeans have long memories and hold many grudges; the Americans are still heartsick over the election. But everyone likes the idea of our world leaders walking the Camino — carrying their own packs and sleeping in the dorms. No secret service, no limos, no entourage. And all sitting down to a communal meal they have prepared. They, more than anyone, need the reminder of our shared humanity and what’s at stake for our shared future.

I’m still convinced that the Irish are the world’s friendliest people but I would have a hard time picking second place. Lovely, kind people live in all countries.

And can there be any more beautiful language than Italian? A simple name like Eugene becomes “ay-you-gene-eee-oo”.  Completely charming, deserving of a bottom bunk…

We are up early to feed & caffeinate our peregrinos and then send them off with a Buen Camino hug and (hopefully) all their belongings. (One day I found three black bras that had been left behind. In different places. Honestly!).

Once they all are gone – ideally by 8:30am ¡Vámanos! — it’s  for Peter and me to eat our breakfast. Susanna at our neighboring tienda gives us organic eggs from her chickens and I cut some herbs from our garden to make some unapologetically delicious huevos revueltos.

Well we need our strength for the cleaning frenzy which follows.

The dorms, bathrooms and kitchen are cleaned to a sparkle. Maybe not quite up to a German hausfrau’s standards but certainly clean enough to have allowed me to use nearly all of Pedro’s products.  

The main dorm sleeps 24 and the “barn” sleep another 16. We also can accommodate campers in the jardín.

The outside gate is locked until we open again and we can hear the peregrinos lining up and rattling the door as we clean.  ¡Estamos cerrados! ¡Vete!

We check them in, get them settled into a bunk (hey you young and heathy folks! take a top bunk, por favor), serve up a tea time, send them off to vespers and pilgrim blessings and hopefully have time at some point for an hospitalero happy hour. It’s all much more fun than it sounds.

I’ve learned to say “breakfast at 7” in about 5 languages. 

We only serve coffee, tea, bread and jam but it’s enough to start the pilgrims out in the morning until they get to the next town (Foncebadón) where they can get a proper tortilla and some more coffee. (I do keep a jar of peanut butter which I sneak to the Americans – they do have the home team advantage.)

 

Evening meals are up to the pilgrim and many shop at the little tienda next door and use our little kitchen at Gaucelmo to prepare some amazing meals.

Guacelmo has an herb garden and I can always pick out the real chefs when I watch their eyes light up when they see it

 

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms!

You didn’t really think I’d keep a Camino hospitalera blog without a post on the F-word, did you? 

Feet. Peregrino feet. Not for the faint-of-heart.

Luckily for you I’m too polite (and squeamish) to take close-up photos.

 

On a different note, I’m not sure why yesterday’s post of May 11th is showing up as dated May 9th. As with everything else that happens here we shrug and assume it’s a Camino thing.

Another big group last night. No time to write so how about some photos of them:

 

 

 

We had 35 pilgrims last night, the most we’ve had so far.  Our capacity is 40 so we were almost full. 

It still seems pretty early in the season and we’re wondering if last night was an anomaly or are the numbers of pilgrims on the path increasing this quickly.(Fingers crossed for anomaly – there are only the two of us working here.)

One of my duties is keeping the stats: our peregrinos’ nationality, city of residence, where they started their Camino, and their mode of transportation, i.e. by foot, bicycle or donkey. (Note: we would really, really love to host a donkey in our paddock. Please get the word out. I’d also like to order up some Croatian peregrinos. Gracias.)

Refugio Gaucelmo is only available to those who arrive in Rabanal under their own power and we don’t take reservations. This has lead to a few cross people showing up at our door but I walk them over to Albergue Pilar down the street and excitedly tell them that, unlike Gaucelmo, Pilar has free wee-fee plus a bar. This usually does the trick.

Since I’ve just done the tallying, here are our peregrinos so far since the first of May:

Germany – 21 🇩🇪 

Australia- 17  🇦🇺 

Italy – 17 🇮🇹 

Spain – 13 🇪🇸 

France – 13 🇫🇷 

U.K. – 12  🇬🇧 

Brazil – 10 🇧🇷 

Sweden – 9 🇸🇪 

USA – 9  🇺🇸 

Denmark – 8 🇩🇰 

S Korea – 7 🇰🇷 

Poland – 5 🇵🇱 

Canada – 4 🇨🇦 

Belgium – 4 🇧🇪 

Switzerland – 4  🇨🇭 

Ireland  – 4   🇮🇪 

Holland – 3 🇳🇱 

Czech Republic – 3   🇨🇿 

Slovakia – 3 🇸🇰 

Japan – 2 🇯🇵 

Israel – 1 🇮🇱 

Slovenia – 1 🇸🇮 

Portugal – 1 🇵🇹 

Chile – 1 🇨🇱 

Argentina – 1 🇦🇷 

Russia – 1 🇷🇺 

Ecuador – 1 🇪🇨 

Singapore – 1 🇸🇬 

Iceland – 1  🇮🇸 

S. Africa – 1  🇿🇦 

Latvia – 1 🇱🇻 

I am so loving hosting these peregrinos from all over the world. So very different from each other but so very alike. 

PS I am so very grateful to be here.

So many nationalities and so many languages! We are almost full again tonight and welcomed our first Ukrainians, first Malaysians and first Hungarian to the Gaucelmo tribe.  Many speak some English and/or some Spanish which is helpful, at least for basic communication. 

But oh how I wish my Spanish was better. It’s certainly improved from what it was two years ago but still my pantomime skills are far better than my speaking skills (ok, if I’m honest my speaking skills are still pretty dismal…apparently 10 minutes of Duolingo a day isn’t quite enough…).

When I received the initial email telling me about my volunteer assignment, the (incredibly organized) Confraternity sent me an eighty page hospitalero’s manual. The only thing I really studied was the ” Map of the Village and it’s Inhabitants” which lists everyone in town and where they live. 
I try to greet the villagers with a cheery “hola” when I see them on the street or in the bar. But what to say next to Antonio, Ublines, and the others? It seems every time I try to venture into some kind of conversation I am either met by blank stares or tolerant smiles. 

I am considering wearing a sign that reads “¡Por favor! Only shout nouns and present tense verbs at me. Gracias”. 

A warm sunny morning and a light pilgrim count could only add up to one thing: a hike up to Foncebadón, the next little Camino town to Rabanal, about 6 kilometers west (and up!).

It’s been so busy we haven’t had a chance to explore much outside of Rabanal so it felt wonderful to get out on the trail and soak in the views.