Today was a day of 'the blind leading the blind'! The reasons for which will become obvious later! 

I left Santiago De Compostella on a dull damp day, very much like the day I had entered. So, overall I considered myself very lucky to have enjoyed great weather whilst actually staying in the city!

I left my digs in plenty of time in order to walk the 3 miles or so to the main bus Terminal. Sundays in Spain remind me so much of what Sundays used to be like in the UK, with most of the shops closed and correspondingly quiet roads. It was lovely! I know it's very handy living in a 24/7 society, but I for one would like it to be more like Spain. Time to just pause, take stock and breath, before jumping back into the rat race. I was quite happy using my little tourist map to navigate my way when I fell into step with a friendly Ukranian girl in her 20's also heading to the bus station in order to get the airport bus. She had completed the Camino Portugues, some 380 miles! After just having struck up conversation I didn't want to seem rude and head off my own way and as she was using the GPS on her phone I thought her walking app would know the short cuts and get us there that bit quicker. Wrong! For some reason it kept leading us up dead end streets and other cul-de-sacs. Thankfully, as we gradually edged our way closer to the bus styation by retracing our steps and trying different ways, a kindly chap walking his dog could see we were in difficulty and even though he couldn't speak a word of English, he made a far better job of pointing us in the right direction than this girl's phone! Thankfully, as I'd built in a buffer I still arrived at the station in plenty of time. Even then there appeared to be confusion over which was the right bus for Lugo. Luckily a confident looking female peregrino (well I assume she was as she was dressed in shorts and carrying a ruck sack) speaking fluent English and Spanish stepped forward and confidently told me and other bemused travellers, the correct bus to board.

An uneventful journey ensued, with a stop at the airport terminal, before continuing on through pleasant rolling countryside until our arrival at Lugo, where a change was required in order to make the final leg of the journey back to Sarria. Sarria had been my starting point for my Camino, but where my mode of transport to get there had been motorcycle, many people use the bus and being as Sarria is one of the most popular starting points the bus was crowded with fellow peregrinos returning or about to embark on their own Camino adventure. Amongst them was the fluent English/Spanish speaker who once again took charge to ensure we all boarded the correct coach at Lugo to get to Sarria. 

Once at the Sarria bus terminal all the disgorged passengers melted away in several different directions all seeming to know which way to go. So there I was staring at my Camino guide book trying to get my bearings when a voice said, "Could you help direct me to the monastery please?" I looked up to see it was the fluent English/Spanish speaking girl. I explained that I wasn't sure but I knew that my hostel wasn't far from the monastery. She also had a guidebook in her hand and due to her earlier exuberant confidence I allowed her to take charge of route finding. Big mistake! It was only after about 15 mnutes of wandering up and down several of Sarria's back roads and side streets, she announced, " I'm hopeless with maps and directions!" At which point I took charge. Knowing that the church and monastery were on the top of a knoll, we headed uphill until eventually I nailed where we were on the map. Her name was Sylvia, born in Columbia, brought up in The States and now living in Oz, hence the fluency in both languages. Due to her friendly chatty disposition, I suggested we meet for a bite to eat later, once settled into our respective 'abodes', to which she agreed.

Due to her propensity for total disorientation I did the chivalrous thing and walked her right to the front door of the monastery, her accommodation for the night, before marching halfway down the hill again to my hostel. I was shown to the poshest room in the hostel. En-suite and Sky TV! Hostels have come a long way since I was a kid! After dumping my stuff off I ventured out into the lobby area only to see Sylvia booking into one of the shared hostel dorms. It transpired that the Monastery was fully booked with no record of her reservation, which she said she had made several months ago. Well at least I knew she wouldn't get lost coming to meet me for the evening meal!

I allowed Sylvia to do all the talking at the restaurant. As a result I enjoyed a lovely local chicken dish accompanied by an excellent red wine. During our conversation I established that her husband walked out on her just over a year ago, but they had recently had a reconciliation, but prior to him returning she had already arranged, and now wanted to 'find herself' by walking The Camino alone. FACTOID ALERT! Interestingly I also found out that if you live and work in Australia, for every 9 years you work, in addition to your normal annual leave, you get a further 3 months paid leave. And if you work in the public sector you get the 3 months every 6 years! Good work (or not in this case) if you can get it!