It was still dark when we got to the bus stop to catch the bus from Muxia back to Santiago. The mist from the sea caused a halo around the street lights; it was cold and eerily quiet. I felt sad in a way, knowing that this marked the end of my long awaited Camino adventure. But I was happy at the same time, knowing that I would be going home soon. I desperately needed my own space and a good night’s sleep, and of course to be with Roger again. 24/7 for three weeks with someone that is not your spouse is a long, long time…
When we arrived in Santiago I wanted coffee, as usual, so I found a coffee shop while Leni went to collect her things from Estrella. She was away for quite a long time and when she returned she wanted to do more shopping for goodies to take back to her shop. Her flight was supposedly 2 hours after mine but when it was time for me to leave she wanted to get to the airport as well. And just as well! She had it wrong; her flight was actually at almost the same time as mine.
Then disaster struck! When I got to the airport I put my pack down flat, with my hiking pole still in its elastic loop which keeps it in place when I don’t need it. I found my flight details and as I approached the pack, bending down to pick it up, my boot landed on the tip of the pole, causing it to shoot up with force at the very moment that I bent down. Well, I saw stars and let out an involuntary yell. Leni looked back and shouted “you’re bleeding!” before proceeding to catch her flight. My brow was split open and the blood was streaming down my face. All I had on me was a very ‘used’ hanky but that had to do until I could get to the ablutions to sort things out.
The flight to Barajas Airport in Madrid was on time, the weather was beautiful and I was eager to go and explore the cultural centre. But first things first: find accommodation, then get rid of the boots and the backpack. I managed to find, at a price I may add, a room with a tiny en-suite bathroom at the Hostal Residencia Unión, very close to the centre of the city. Own space and privacy; I once again realised how dear those two things are to me!
It was close to 8 pm by the time I had a shower and change of clothes. I was hungry and tired so set out to find a place to eat. Sight-seeing would have to wait until tomorrow.
Things don’t happen early in Spain so I slept late the next morning. After all, this was the first night in three weeks that I had an undisturbed night’s rest and no pressure to be up early! But time was also limited so I had to get out there.
I spent a few hours at the Reina Sophia art museum. So much so that I ran out of time to visit some of the other ‘must see’ places on my list. Anyone that knows me also knows that I am very interested in South African art. What was fascinating at the Reina Sophia was that I recognised the ‘style inspiration’ of many South African artists!
I had a Spanish omelette and a glass of wine at a street café, before I had to collect my luggage and catch the 3 pm bus back to the airport, in time for my flight to Paris.
