Day 27: Santa Catalina de Somoza to Foncebadón
Andrew and I left Santa Catalina de Somoza for breakfast in El Ganso. We must have been sloppy tired, because Andrew left his hat behind at the cafe. He did retrieve it, and on his way back to me, he saw Bella bending over a hand-made jewellery display. We’d lost track of Bella after Burgos, and were thrilled to meet up briefly. 
Pilgrims become individual in a host of ways: the stuffed things they dangle from their backpacks, badges, hats, unusual shoes, hair decorations and tattoos. Bella wore a short, bright, fuschia skort. Imagine the awkward moment when Andrew explained how he knew Bella from her backside! But Bella in the “short, bright, pink skort” (what guy would say fuschia?) was practically a nickname by now, so awkwardness was avoided. 
We continued on to Rabanal and considered staying there overnight. Instead, we moved into the shade of a Benedictine church, and leaned against our backpacks in the grass for a glorious nap. I’m discovering that I love sleeping in the shade of churches. As the Way provided a challenge further on, the nap proved necessary.
Not long after we left the church, we began an upward climb along a path we figured even goats refused to use. Except that we dodged goat turd every other step. From behind us someone called, “Hey! Can anyone tell me the way to St. Catharines?” For the second time that day, we enjoyed a reunion with someone we’d lost since Burgos. 
Iain walked with us when we detoured to the highway. It wasn’t the safest route. The many road switchbacks resulted in frequent blind corners, and we were unsure of which side of the road to walk. Iain hobbled well on ahead of us, and reached Foncebadón before we did. Bella-in-the-short-pink-skort and her friend Mattias were already there.
Foncebadón is unremarkable except for its location at the base of a long climb to Cruz de Ferro. Aside from eating a fabulous meal in the albergue and drinking beer, all that was left was sleep. So, as the night turned cold and the fog engulfed the hills, we crawled into our bunks and curled under borrowed albergue blankets.
¡Ultreia!
~Penny