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Sept 25 – Finisterre to Muxia

Sept 25 – Fisterre to Muxia – the last stretch! Have a full blown out cold and a bad cough! Very misty outside! Hans appears to have flooded the bathroom somehow – the bastard!!!Walk begins only at 9:30 – stop at (not so) súper mercado for a pan napolitana & a small bag of mixed nuts.Get lost with Roberto – mountain with nettles & sea that I could fall into easily. Climb so darn scary with heavy mochila & no proper footholds or things to hold on to except nettles. Only make it to Lires by 2:30;Walk after Lires excruciatingly painful. Mochila digging into my back & cutting into my shoulders. I think of Rohit’s backpack wound & shudder.Up & down up & down – everything is hurting and the 70 degree (supposed) sun feels like 85!!!Cute kitten at hippy lady stop who complains about men leaving trash behind! I have a jumo naturale (how did I live without this all my Camino life?!?!)Ask for a jumo again at Lires cafe but she only has bottled one. Have that & a small ensalada with pan. 2.Irish couples come in & try to ask for coca zero which they ask as coke free aka coke sin azúcar! I think she means fría & translate but it’s zero/light that they want;Talk to Bonnie on the way. Interrupted by puppy wanting a tummy rub. Resumed again later just as I’m entering Muxia. Both times my shoulders are in agony with the mochila & phone to ear stuff.Pension Isolina with Begonia & her 13 yr old hijo and the woes of making ends meet. Shower no curtain!Walk long walk to Virxe de la Barca! Too much mist. No comida only of salad so be it. 2nd time today! Oh well!I go hunting for postre because 1 beer isn’t enough to qualify “bad” & find tarta de queso. I get one “para llevar” – it is already past 10 by now!Begonia greets me with a small plate that has an inch of what looks like freshly squeezed orange juice, one plum & a piece of cake that she says her mother has baked for me. I don’t believe it but I am touched by the gesture all the same.​

awara badal

Awara - pronounced - aah-wah-raa is an Urdu word meaning wanderer or vagrant and "badal" - pronounced baa-thul (where the "th" has the sound made when saying "this" or "that") means cloud; When I lost my mother a few months ago I was devastated - everything that once held meaning for me - be it yoga or work or cooking or reading or running the house - became pointless and ceased to hold my interest. The only thing that (sort of) felt like an activity worth pursuing was walking - and miles and miles of it. As I was preparing for (what I hope) the first of many such walks I thought nothing describes the way I feel inside better than a "wandering cloud" - I felt like one and aspired to be one - and so a name was born. It also fit in with my aversion to having an online presence - awara badal - indicated my mood and my temperament without compromising any PII. And in a twisted punny way, what better way to be "in the cloud" than floating as one - blended anonymity and floating presence in one fell swoop!!!