A detour had taken Sue, Gert and me to Castrillo Polvazares, a traditional Maragato village off the Camino de Santiago. It was raining with darkness closing in.
From Camino Sunrise: Walking With My Shadows:
“I was about to suggest that we walk to the next town when an old, small pickup stopped next to us. A man with short, gray hair rolled down his window, stuck out his head and shouted questions in Spanish so fast that I had no clue what he said. Gert talked to the driver, also in Spanish, then turned to us with the bad news.
”He said both albergues here are not open for the season yet.” We eyed each other quizzically, even panicked-looking. A wet journey in near-darkness loomed. We could not be certain there would be empty beds in the next village. Suddenly…”
Books and my backpack 