Learning to Walk 26

CAMINHO PORTUGUÊS – Caldas de Reis

(33,112 STEPS – 25.48 KMS – 15.82 MILES)

A pigeon is perched on the back of a chair at a sidewalk cafe in Pontevedra, Spain. — *If you have been paying attention, you know how important a proper start is to me…do you think I would share my café americano or napolitana de chocolate??* *Still, the fowl sat in hope throughout*, *notice his gaze.*

The Galician Hills

The walk out of Pontevedra was just about perfect. I left the albergue and the modern part of town where it was located, following the yellow arrows. The arrows led through the Old Town – lots of old buildings, cool churches, and an open café! Of course, I stopped and had breakfast and argued with a pigeon. I don’t do well with sharing.

Fortunately for me, the lady at the café was better at it than I am. She gave me a coffee to go and 3 slices of freshly baked Tarta de Santiago, the delicious almond cake of Galicia. She made them every day and distributed among the pilgrims that stopped in her place.

It didn’t take long before I was out of the city and into the verdant Galician hills. Everything about this countryside seems right – the placement of the villages and their architecture, the good agriculture practice, the cows walking the way to fresh pastures, and towering trees. I have enjoyed most of the steps on all the Caminos I have done, but there is something about Galicia!

Today was my first full day walking on the combined Coastal/Central route. It was a little crowded coming out of Pontevedra. And though crowded, there were no pilgrims at my café (maybe that’s why I got 3 slices). The crowds thinned out the deeper we went into the countryside.

The Mystery Pain

About 5 kilometers into today’s walk, I noticed a strange pain on the outside of the fourth toe on my right foot. I have persistent problems on the inside of this toe and know how to treat and adapt. This pain was different – it felt more like a nerve or muscle problem. It was sharp and near debilitating. My self-diagnosis (the only medical advice I seek) was that it was caused by 3 days of wet shoes, compensating for that, and the 23 mile walk yesterday. A perfect foot storm.

Passing through one of the little villages beyond Pontevedra, I took the picture that is today’s Cover Photo.

STOP COMPLAiNiNG

I decided at that moment to tough it out and find a way to walk that masked the mystery pain. One kilometer later, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped, sat on a rock wall, and took my shoes/socks off hoping to find the source of the pain. No luck. I would rest, walk until I couldn’t bear the pain, rest with shoes off, and walk some more. And repeat.

While I was seated shoeless on the rock wall, rubbing my right foot, two Mexican pilgrims stopped and asked if I was okay. The stubborn/stoic/independent/Texan part of me answered:

“No, I’m good, just resting my feet. Thanks for asking, though.”

I put my shoes back on and walked until the searing pain forced me to stop, at a café that had fresh coffee and fresh melons. I sat on the terrace with shoes off, pretending everything was okay while I sipped my coffee and ate the delicious melon. Fortunately, a shoeless patron is common on the Camino. Before leaving from this break, I took the trusty Leukotape out of my backpack and swaddled the 4th toe and Pinky toe of my right foot, hoping this would mask the pain, it didn’t. But it wasn’t the fault of the Leukotape, this miracle product should be a part of every hiker’s backpack.

I repeated my self-treatment – walk until the pain was unbearable, stop wherever (preferably a place with coffee or beer) to take my shoes off, rest, then repeat – all the way to Caldas de Reis, my stop for the day.

In the latter part of the day, I started thinking about my ultimate goal, Finisterre, still 6 days of walking ahead. There’s no way I would make it with this foot pain. I started to wonder if Santiago, 2 days away, was even possible. It was the first time in thousands of miles of walking that I felt like I might not make it to my destination.

That is an uncomfortable thought for me.

The Good Evening in Caldas de Reis

I limped into my albergue on the outskirts of Caldas de Reis at four in the afternoon, the foot breaks cost me a lot of time today.

The Albergue Celenis was another lodging win – clean, modern, and incredible hospitality. To make it even better, there was a curtain on my sleeping cubicle and Brew Dog IPAs in the refrigerator for a mere 1.5€.

After settling in, showering, and getting my laundry on the line, I grabbed two of the Brew Dog Punk IPAs and went to sit on the terrace with my aching foot elevated. Absorbed in my misery, a twenty-something German girl came and sat by me. I have the unintentional ability to attract people in this age group. Not long after, a young German guy of the same age joined us. We sat in great Camino conversation for two hours. Distracted by the visit, I had forgotten about my right foot. As we spoke, Miguel and Rosa, entered the albergue. I left them behind on my long day yesterday. Today, they put in a long day and caught up!

As the sun set, we went our separate ways – the youngsters into town for dinner, Miguel and Rosa to settle in after their long day, and me to my bunk to explore my foot problems.

I strapped on my headlamp and contorted myself in a way that allowed me to see my right foot from all angles. I was surprised by what I found. There was blood blister on the lower outside part of my fourth toe. Because of its awkward position, I wasn’t able to see it or adequately protect it with Leukotape on the trail. The pain was caused by the friction from the toenail of my pinky toe rubbing against the blood blister. And I’m pretty sure I was right, this was caused by wet shoes, overcompensation, and the long day yesterday.

I lanced the blister, drained it thoroughly, cleaned it with rubbing alcohol, and let it dry as I slept in peaceful bliss behind my curtain.*

*Author’s note: I am not suggesting that you become your own doctor and/or surgeon. Just because it works for me doesn’t mean it will work for you. Proceed at your own risk, I am not liable, as this is not a guidebook.