1 of 2 posts - Sept 8 Granon -28 km + 1 km

I missed wifi yesterday hence 2 posts today. Saturday - a difficult day. 

Though Spain sleeps from 3:00 -5:00 pm, apparently on Friday nights in Nejera many are awake from 3:00 -5:00 am. I wake early and feel "off " right from the beginning. I left the alburgue just before 7:00 am, one of the last pilgrims to leave. I wandered the streets looking for Camino signs and returned back to the alburgue twenty minutes later to ask for help. Two kind pilgrims come out in their stocking feet to show me the sign I missed. My walk feels different today, my pace is good but for the first time it feels like work. As I approach Santo Domingo famous for a 12th century cathedral and a legend involving a cock & hen I see large factories with only one car, many businesses closed on a Saturday (?). Houses look derelict and I wonder if I'm in a ghost town.  I paid 2.50€ to wander around the cathedral and am 2 kilometers outside town before I realize that I was so taken with the architecture and artifacts that I completely forgot to look for the live cock & hen that is on display there. By now the sun is very hot. I mop the perspiration from my face several times and it lifts my spirits to think of Pedro and Mario smiling at the end of a run, I'm perspiring as much as they do. 

This day, this walk, feels like a pilgrimage, I'm tired, I'm hurting and I'm hot and uncomfortable.  

My toes on both feet start to feel like they are splitting open on the bottom. With each step on the gravel road an errant stone can cause sharp pain.  I wonder if I should take my shoes off to look but decide against it, afraid of what I might see and knowing that there is nothing to be done about it anyway. By the time I reach Granon I am so happy that the church has space for me I consider throwing my self at the hospilatero's feet in gratitude but thankfully have enough sense left that I realize that would be overly dramatic. After a shower and laundry I finally look at my feet to discover my first ever blister, one in full bloom on the bottom of my toe and a second threatening on the other foot. 

Two pilgrims tend to my blister, popping it and squeezing out the contents, then applying an antiseptic bandage from their own supply. This may make you squeamish to read but I'm taken with the kindness of strangers performing this very personal task. 

We make dinner together, for 35, I attend my first catholic mass, sing for supper (no kidding) in front of 50 including onlookers from the town. As the sole Canadian I had to sing two songs solo. First I choose "Oh Canada" because at that moment every song I have ever known leaves my head, the second time I sing a rousing version of "if you are happy and you know it, clap your hands." Everyone seems to know it and joins in enthusiastically. My difficult day ends well. Such is the Camino.