October 17, 2001
Villadangos del Paramo- Astorga (rainy)
16.3m/26.0km - 306.9m/491.1km

Pleasant walking today. The land is greening up and we are out of the desolate plains. We stop for lunch in Puente de Orbigo. We are early so the choices are limited. Tapas are usually the easiest thing to get in a bar if you are there before the local lunch hour, so we order a tortilla. The bartender says it will take 20 minutes and we say fine. Then after thinking about it we realize that our tortilla is being freshly made. When it is set on the table it looks like a quiche and not like the omelette P was served back at the beginning of our walk. When I bite into it I find small pieces of potatoes. This is so good I think I could eat it every day. It is also so large that J, B, and I cannot finish it. We do tell the bartender (who is also the owner) how much we are enjoying it though.

After we finish what we can, J leave for the restroom and while he is gone the man's mother, who made the tortilla, comes out of the kitchen and sit down with us. She asks us how we liked the food. B and I tell her it was wonderful and thank her for cooking it. She points at the remaining food and ask who did not finish their dinner. Uh-oh. I can tell by looking at this woman that she is the kind of person who, if you do not eat all that she has cooked for you, will be insulted. I look at B and see she thinks the same thing. Neither one of us wants to insult her but we also cannot eat another bite so I point to the back where J is. When he gets back she encourages him to finish what is left and sits with us until he cleans his plate. J is not happy that he had to eat so much and we tell him (even though we were to chicken to do it ourselves) he could have said no thank you. Besides, everyone knows the person not there always gets picked for the job no one else wants.

When we reach the refugio in Astorga it is raining and the first thing I do is take a hot shower to warm up. This is one of the largest refugios we have been in. I think there are 40 people in this room. The bunk beds are set so close together you can roll over, reach out, and touch the bunk on either side of you.

On the way to dinner I stop in a store and buy a box of mint chocolates. I want to eat the whole box by myself but I know it will make me sick so I offer a piece to every pilgrim I see. We find a restaurant near the refugio that resembles a American non-chain fast food place and order a pizza. One person I give a piece of chocolate to is a English girl who lived in the States when she was small. She and I talk about the treats she used to get in America and still misses. Most of them are chocolate related. I try to tell her about a chocolate mint cookie that I think she would like but I can't remember the name of it. It's made by Pepperidge Farms but I just can't think of what it is called so I ask Z, who is eating at another table. "Milano Mints," she says. That's it.

Later when we are leaving Z calls my name and when I turn to look says, "Sausalitogenevacheseapeakebrusselsschessman." I am confused by what she just said and I ask, "Are you speaking English?" She laughs and says those are the names of other Pepperidge Farms cookies. Oh yeah, Sausalito, Geneva, Chesapeake, Brussels, and Chessman. I could eat a box of each tonight.