Last night was one of the worst nights–scratch that. Last night was the worst night of the entire trip for me. At one point, I had vomit or diarrhea on every article of clothing I own–I don’t even want to figure out how I got it on my long underwear tucked away in my pack.
The automatic lighting that I thought was so neat–not so much now. I woke up in the middle of the night with the unmistakable urge that had me run through two darkened dorm rooms to hit the bathroom. I make it just in time to release my cheeks when I feel the urge to project upwards as well. I get up to turn around when the lights go out and I’m just guessing as to the angle I’m hoping to hit. This explains why my night clothes and the wall of the stall had some chorizo and bread on them in the morning.
A big disadvantage of staying in an albergue is their strict exit times of 8a. We were the last ones out. For the record, they DO change the sheets in the Fromista municapal because they were already on the second room when we staggered out.
Shaun had left me a dose of Imodium and then bugged out ASAP. I don’t blame him, OPS (Other People’s Poop). I did manage to get a banana to stay down. I went with Pam to the closest cafe so she could get a quick bite. We struck up a conversation with Graham the Irishman (there can’t be more than one–I’m sure you know him). It looked like he was going to have to call this Camino due to blisters all over his feet.
It’s only 2 miles to Poblacion de Campos from Fromista. This would require about 45 minutes at most for Pam and I (she’s a little slow and whiny in the mornings until her hips warm up). It took us almost 2 hours because of all the stops I had to make just to get the energy up to move on.
We stopped at the first cafe we found in town and I dropped to the ground. Pam went in to get me some sort of carbonated lemon-lime soda to try to calm my stomach. A French trio of two men and a woman came in and saw me doubled over. She came over and enquired as to the nature of my illness (mental or physical, upset stomach or more). I indicated explosiveness out of both ends. They made further enquiries as to allergies, etc. They diagnosed me as having “dysenteria” and gave me two small pills. I would have rather had two bullets, but this is Europe and not the US. I thanked them profusely between stomach spasms.
Pam is usually not the most compassionate person to me when I’m sick as she usually thinks that I’m being over dramatic (males can’t take pain and discomfort–I gave birth, you don’t know what pain is). To her credit, today she just avoided touching me or getting close enough to breath in any air that I exhaled, but she was very patient with my lack of speed and my inability to walk a straight line knowing that alcohol was not involved. She did take good care of me and seemed a little too happy that I was walking at a pace slower than her in the morning.
The next “town” was only 2.5 miles. I walked like George–staring down at my feet trying to concentrate on every step. We made it there by noon. As we were walking into “town”–I say “town” because there was absolutely nothing open for pilgrims–Maria and Anton came strolling by. They are happy and full of life and energy; not the kind of thing a dying man likes to see (ok, maybe Pam is right on the drama). They slowed up and walked with us for a while and offered to help in any way they could. They are really great kids.
I needed to stop and now! There wasn’t a cafe with a bano and I was in pain. We picked the community park pavilion to stop at. I pray no one goes behind the walls until after the next torrential rain. When I came out, there were two German men sitting in the pavilion talking to Pam. One of them, Karl, is into homeopathy and offered to fix me up with a remedy. I was willing to try anything.
Karl gave me a little crystal to dissolve in my mouth and then mixed me up a bottle of liquid to sip on for the next day. Muje, traveling with him, helped explain things to me. We talked with them for a long time about diet and the Camino in general. Karl has to stop in a few days, but Muje is here for the duration.
After the initial dose from Karl, I felt pretty good. We donned our packs and headed on to the next stop which was about 3 miles. I was able to maintain a good pace for a couple of miles but then had to take a break in the middle of the trail. While we were resting, Karl and Muje passed us up and checked on me again.
I was shooting for a bathroom at Puente which was just over a mile away. Another couple passed us and insisted I take a couple of mints to help calm my stomachache. I wasn’t going to turn down any help at this point. Puente was another bust–no bano. The next town was over a mile away and all road walk. The one redeeming aspect of today was the weather was cool and the hiking was level. If it hadn’t been, there’s no way I could have made the 12.5 miles.
When we got to Villalcazar de Sirga, I was praying for an open cafe because I was unable to take full steps because I had to keep my cheeks clenched. Hallelujah, there was an open cafe on the square. I ran to the bathroom faster than Pam could drop her pack. So far today, I had only had a banana and a slice of orange to eat because nothing else would stay down. I decided to risk a salad here (roughage is good for diarrhea?). After our lunch, I went and slept on the steps of the church across the street for about 45 min. I know several people came up and took the bum’s picture on the steps of the 11th century church, but I was too out of it to care.
Between Shaun and his Imodium, the French woman with her miracle pills, the Germans with their homeopathic remedy, the Swedish couple with their mints, and a sleep on the steps of the church, I was feeling a little better. I think I can make it the final 4 miles into Carrion.
As long as my pace stayed slow, I could keep going. Pam let me lead so she wouldn’t push too hard (the afternoons are her strong hiking time). We made it into town by 6. It had only taken us 10 hours to hike the distance we would normally hike before lunch (and this was an ideal hiking day).
As soon as we got into town, we saw Shaun at a bar having a beer. He directed us to the sisters of mercy, or Espiritu Santo saying it was a nice place and there might be rooms. We walked in the door but it was locked up tighter than a drum–not a good sign. Eventually, someone let us in and told us to sit. Getting better. Then a little nun came in and started yelling at me. From my high school experience, I knew I was ok now. If a nun is yelling, nothing is wrong; when they get quiet, take cover.
She stamped our credentials and took our 5 Euros and showed us to our room. It was heaven. Only four beds and right next to a bathroom. We just dropped our stuff and went to grab some supper (bland and clean for me). After supper, a trip to the grocer and pharmacy to get some minerals to replace everything I’ve lost in the last 24 hours. Back to the nunnery for showers, laundry, and bed.
Pam insisted we take a short cut back to the albergue to save walking. Never a good idea in Spain–no grids for cities. We ended up walking 4 blocks extra to come out 1 block further than we started. When we got back to the same place we started, we saw Paul. He told us Chris had to take a taxi to town today because of blisters. We had seen Chris in town this morning, but didn’t think much of it. He’s the slow walker of the trio at 3.5 mph. They can leave an hour after us any day and still beat us by two hours.
Chris is person that knows and can take pain. He crashed a helicopter in Vietnam. He damn near ripped off his arm falling off a ladder. And I think there are a few chainsaw accidents in his past as well. For him to not be able to walk, there’s got to be some real pain involved. He’s decided to take a bike to Leon while Paul and Bob walk there to give his feet a couple days to recover.
One of our bunk mates was an interesting man. I wish I had the strength to take his picture, but I still wasn’t quite myself. He’s a 71 year old Argentinian born Australian who is trying to hike the Camino in only 4 weeks. He saw our packs and said he was cheating by using a luggage service to send his bags forward 12 miles every day. He usually like 20-25 miles every day. He picks his pack up after 12 miles and carries it when he’s already tired. This man was amazing.