In which we fall in love with cows and discover they have very long tongues…

The guidebook says we would enter the mountains in earnest today which was a surprise to me since from my point of view we’d been climbing mountains for the better part of both days so far. Kristen, Gary and I took off at 7:30 after a traditional Spanish breakfast of toast, cafe con leche and juice. As we were getting ready to leave, Gary noticed a puddle under my pack. It turned out, I’d not screwed the cap on my water bladder correctly and it was now leaking all over the floor of the cafe, soaking both my bag and the clothes in it. Ugh! I emptied my pack. Refilled the water, screwed the cap on tightly and mopped up the mess I’d made on the floor.

We made great walking partners. Both Gary and Kristen were easy to talk to. While Gary was most definitely an strong “E” on the Myers Briggs Personality Inventory, Kristen was an “I”. She was thoughtful and serious, an astute planner who had all of her reservations, stage expectations and each day’s mileage committed to a piece of paper she carried in a small plastic bag. She’d watched countless videos about the Camino Primitivo and was, for us, our very own Rick Steves of the Camino, the resident expert on what to expect each day. The forecast was not all that promising. Rain was expected throughout the week, so I kept my raingear within reach. but we lucked out and the day turned out to be partly sunny.

We stopped for a “second breakfast” in the small town of Espina - cafe con leche and a slice of tortilla, and then got back on the road. The walk was lovely. Small picturesque villages and acres of farmland complete with herds of cows, the sound of bells clanging in the air. As we wandered through one of the villages, we came upon a barn where a number of them had gathered to eat. Now for many of us, cows are an ordinary sight. I live in a rural area and see dozens of cows on a regular basis and rarely think twice about it. On this Camino that all changed.

As we rounded the corner and passed by one of the barn’s two open windows, one of the girls stuck her head out to greet us. Gary and Kristen reached out to pet her and she stuck her long, thick, slightly rounded tongue out to lick them. A few seconds later she was joined by another who wanted to find out what the commotion was all about. Soon there were more than a dozen cow heads poking out the windows vying for attention. One of them seemed fascinated by Gary, who stuck her tongue out to lap the sweat off his skin. It was pretty funny.

We walked through forests with muddy floors and passed many wildflowers; fields of foxglove and columbine. We reached Tineo by around 2:30. Kristen and I stayed at a local albergue while Gary went off to find his chichi hotel. Turned out it was right across the street from our more modest accommodations, so we agreed to meet up for dinner after we’d showered and done laundry.

We opted for dinner in the bar of Gary’s hotel. That’s where we met Malthe, a young man from Denmark who joined us for a dinner of tapas and drinks. Malthe, it turned out, was a 5 time national table tennis champion in his native Denmark and a true ambassador for the country. Now “retired”, he spent his time training others in the sport. We would learn more about him and Denmark in the days to come, but for this night we enjoyed sharing different plates of tapas, mugs of frosty Estrella beer and several Kaz Limón, Gary’s drink of choice before Kristen and I headed back across the street to our humble accommodations, agreeing to meet Gary for breakfast the following morning.

Editor’s Note: I missed one of the key moments of Day 2, meeting Pikachu. Along the way we came upon a small donativo. Donativos are albergues and cafes that accept offerings rather than charge the pilgrim a set fee. This little donativo was run by a young family who offered coffee, tea and biscuits to peregrinos who wandered by. The father was a gentle 30 something dressed in a Pikachu jumpsuit.

Now, it’s not everyday that you see a grown man dressed like Pikachu, the character from the anime series Pokemon, but somehow, on the Camino, it seemed perfectly natural. He stamped our credencials with a beautiful handmade stamp while his young child tugged on the tail of their very gentle and patient border collie. As we chatted he offered recommendations on donativos we might want to stop at along the way. He and his wife had made the decision to leave the more traditional life they were leading for one along the Camino. Although the coffee was lukewarm, he and his family couldn’t have been nicer. We dropped a few euro in the donation can, strapped on our packs and continued on our way, carrying the memory of this unusual stop with us for the rest of our journey.

Coming Friday… Day 4 - Decision time…