Santiago turned out better than expected; tourist tat less tatty than Lourdes. In summer, they say, it's different . . . thousands of pilgrims arriving every day.
The overnight bus to Madrid retraced part of the camino, which was weird . . . waking up to see signs to Samos, in Ponferrada bus station . . . I was in that different dimension I observed when walking . . . rushing along . . . trying to sleep . . .
This was my first visit to Madrid. An hour and a half to wait for the Granada bus and I decide to skip the Prado. Finding a cafe near the bus station proves impossible and the one inside is a hellhole . . . mostly for the staff, who have it all day . . . I finally get a coffee there . . . work out where my bus is leaving from and that's Madrid. It's big.
Leaving at 8, we drive south in the dawn, full sun . . . 30 minute rest stop in Andalusia service station for coffee outside in the warm . . . then Granada . . .
Another big city, but manageable . . . the Alhambra towering over it . . . a meal in a vegan restaurant . . . find a hotel run by a German woman, Maria, who married a Spanish man from Mellilla, the enclave in North Africa. €30 for the ensuite room and a base to wander awhile then sleep ten hours.
The Camino de Santiago de Compostella is over for now. The camino of Wear and Dao continues, though diverting from Portugal . . . it has its own life and will not be tied down . . .
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