Thermal Waters and a River Dinner
If Day 9 was the Camino at its most elemental, Day 10 was its idea of an apology.
Thermal pools. Warm water. The kind of soak that reaches places no amount of stretching or willpower can get to after nine days of hard walking. Every muscle that had been silently suffering finally got to say its piece and then, mercifully, let go. Aguas termales — two words that should be written into every Camino itinerary in bold.
The weather had shifted too. The grey and rain of yesterday had given way to real heat — the kind that reminds you that you're in Spain now, properly in Spain, and summer has opinions. After days of poncho weather it felt almost disorienting, like a different trip entirely. A better one.
And still the people kept arriving, each one a small gift the road hadn't finished giving. A wonderful family from Valencia at the pool — the kind of easy, generous company that makes you feel like you've known them longer than an afternoon. Then new friends from Denmark and Italy for dinner beside the river as the evening cooled and the wine appeared and conversation moved through languages and laughter without caring much about either.
I keep thinking it can't get better. Every day proves me wrong.
Santiago is close now. The end that felt abstract on Day 1 in Porto is suddenly, startlingly real. The feet know it. The heart knows it even more.
Santiago, here we come. 💜
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