Possessions just a burden


Possessions just another burden

I left Albergue Mercadoira before breakfast expecting to find a cafe in Portomarin. Just before the bridge into Portomarin I exchanged photos with three Spanish women then followed the arrows over the bridge and around the town. Too late I discovered I would have to climb up the hill into the plaza for breakfast. Too lazy to retrace my steps, I continued on. Surely there would soon be a cafe for all the pilgrims leaving town and looking forward to second breakfast.
Into the forest I walked. Leaves cushioned my steps and magpies, so different to the Australian variety, flicked their tails and jumped into trees. A flotilla of Spanish pilgrims chattered past me as I rested near a well. The sky clouded over. Without caffeine, I wilted under the cold and the wet. Eleven kilometres on I finally reached the first cafe. I guzzled a coffee and tortilla. Two seasoned German pilgrims set their packs down next to me and we shared a more leisurely second coffee. We rolled our eyes at the pilgrims in well-pressed blouses and trousers milling around us. While we tossed our heavy backpacks to one side, they guarded their little daypacks jealously. Possessions are just another burden, we agreed. At this stage someone could take everything and we’d still work out a way to get by.

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