I went to Bilbao today, to meet my camino
colleagues. For better or worse, I decided to drive to León and take
the train from there. It being early Sunday, the roads were empty. In
sharp contrast to the train. That said, when things finally settled
down at León station, I found myself to be the only person in the
carriage with no one beside me. That was after I'd finally found
coach no. 11. It was the one with the number 1 on it. This had
confused another passenger, who'd taken it to be coach 21 and who
almost caused an international incident when 4 foreigners arrived to
find her on one of their seats.
One of the advantages of taking public transport
is that it allows you to observe, well, the public. Like the chap in
the toilets at León station who was going to inordinate lengths to
get a central parting. And he was no spring chicken. And then there
was the woman in front of me on the platform who had one leg shorter
than the other and so was engaged in a perpetual battle to compensate
for a leftwards drift.
Back in Pontevedra last night, I watched half an
hour of rugby between the Andorran and Galician teams. Or I would
have done if they'd kicked off on time, rather than 25 minutes late.
Part of the delay, it has to be said, was due to a scrap between 2 of
the Pontevedran 5 years olds who'd been chosen to hold the Galician
flag. Well, it was asking for trouble to have 5 of them when there
are only 4 corners.
It's 5.30 and our carriage has been de-coupled
from the rest of the train, which seems to be going somewhere else. I
think we're waiting for an engine, which might not have turned up
because it's Sunday. One thing's for sure, there's no airconditioning
now. And the evening sun is hot through these large windows.
I'll sign off now as we're approaching Bilbao. No
one has asked to see my ticket since I got on 4 hours or more ago.
Ironically, the train came from Vigo. So I suppose I could have got
it there. But, anyway, crossing the meseta to Burgos confirmed
the wisdom of our decision to give it a miss and get the train to
León next week. One corn stalk looks much like another. Especially
in flat terrain.
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