Carrión...Carry on...carrion....

Just a quick one. Still in Carrión. STILL in Carrión. STIIIIIIIILL in Carrión.

Killin´ me.

Yesterday, Skip gently suggested that the universe did this as an attempt to give me a lesson in patience. I gently suggested back to him, in my sweetest way, of course, how such lessons are generally received...historically speaking. You can imagine.

Stop laughing.

Anyway, yeah, we´re still here. It´s 3pm. I´m taking a break from the endless parade of beers on the table (all but one of them Skip´s, thank you very much...). The nuns have allowed us to leave our bags here all day while we endure this interminable wait for the bus. We´re still at the Bar España. And every time the bar man comes out, he just laughs when he sees me. Our attempts at communication have been many, frustrating, semi-successful, and tedious, but at least we´re getting some laughs out of it. I think he knows how frustrating it is for me to be sitting and doing nothing for an entire day after seventeen days filled with walking.

And it IS. I´ve been good, though. We went and had tea and coffee this morning after I got yelled at (not really) by a nun coming up to turn over the dorm rooms. She was quite surprised to find us still there, as everyone was supposed to leave by 8. By the time I got up at 7:30, only the Sicilians were left in the room, so I got a shower, mainly because I was nervous that I WOULD be yelled at. But there was no rousing Skip, so after I got back from the shower, she came in and got just a bit stern with us till I explained what our arrangement had been from last night.

So we packed up, left the bags, and headed out into the Sunday ghost town of Carrión. The only places open were the café/bars and the souvenir shops. So we stopped for coffee. The cafés where you get coffee and breakfast in the morning are also bars, so this morning we were treated to a group of people whom we assume were still drinking from the night before. They were roaring drunk. One of them had a black t-shirt with rubber breasts on the front. Good Lord. We finally vacated our tables after they stumbled out, went to the next one down the street, kept roaring and drinking and singing and bothering old men on the sidewalk. Sunday morning, mind you.

We went on walkabout...through the part of town we saw yesterday and the park beyond. There is a river (Yens the German went swimming in it yesterday) and a beautiful park and a rose garden. Nice to stop and smell the roses literally if we´re forced to do it symbolically. Back to the square...patch of sunlight in the grass where we sat for an hour or more, me reading interesting bits of the guidebook while Skip dozed in the sunshine and tried to rid himself of his rather vibrant case of raccoon eyes.

I went for a sandwich at Bar España and by the time I got out (with about 8 crawdads that the barman just decided to throw in for free), Skip had decided it was beer-thirty. So we sat, same place as yesterday, and he tried to explain to me how to eat crawdads. That was interesting. Not long after, we collected Gunna, who had arrived by bus that morning and said Al and Christa were with him in Frómista the night before and would be along shortly. (You were right, John...everyone who came out of Frómista was eaten alive by bedbugs. Regular infestation. Be forewarned, all ye future Camino walkers.) So we sat. And waited. And drank. And waited. And told stories. And shared photos. And waited.

Al showed up. Overjoyed to see him...not long after, the same with Christa. She had been hoping to catch us and is very sad that we´ll be leaving on the bus tonight. I suggested she come with us, but she´s just checked in here with the nuns, so I suppose this is it.

We´ve worked it out (which, of course, means very little on the Camino) that if we follow the book from León starting tomorrow, we´ll make it to Santiago on the 7th. Skip wants to bus from there to Frómista and come back for the Santiago mass on Sunday the 10th. (Correct me if my date - day of the week lineup is wrong...I have no idea.) Then I still have four days. I think the money situation is fine...so who knows what we´ll do. I just hope we find the boys somewhere, as we´ve found everyone else so far.

Bit of Camino life I keep forgetting to throw in...sometimes in the bunk rooms, the smell of BenGay and mentholated muscle rub can absolutely bowl you over. The air is absolutely permeated with it.

Had to buy a huge bottle of shampoo yesterday because I´m out and they don´t sell small ones. Sigh.

Keep seeing souvenirs and wanting them, but I´m sure there isn´t a thing we´re seeing now that we won´t find in Santiago as well.

Did I mention I sewed Skip´s busted camera bag back together again yesterday? Anyone counting how many times I´ve taken a needle to this boy and his gear? THREE!!! Sigh. Boys.

All for now. Bus in 4 hours. Wish us luck finding a place tonight....

Will probably not write till tomorrow night. Love you all.