Below: Today was the day we were supposed to arrive in Santiago, had we maintained our usual pace. Here, a road sign in Melide taunts us with the 52 kilometers that remained.

I’d felt better yesterday morning, but had chills by the afternoon. I took a nap, and then Ori woke me up for a bath she’d drawn for me. After that, around 8pm, I drifted off to sleep, and didn’t wake up again until 7:30am this morning. Being sick takes a lot out of you (literally and metaphorically).

We are both feeling pretty good today. Barring any relapses, we’re going to walk tomorrow. I don’t know if we’ll accomplish the final 50 kilometers in two days or three, but it doesn’t matter as long as we’re back on the road. Anything is better than being cooped up in a hotel room with nothing to do but read an error-filled Dan Brown novel to each other.

We went out for a walk about town this morning, the first time Ori had seen anything beyond our two hotel rooms. It was strange – incongruous, even – to see pilgrims milling about the crowds of Spaniards attending Melide’s Sunday market. I’d almost forgotten that we, too, were pilgrims.

Below: It was certainly strange to have a little “holiday” so close to the end. We’d both been looking forward to relaxing in Santiago, taking the bus to Finisterre, and ultimately stretching out on the beaches of Portugal before flying home. And instead, this was the view from our hotel room in Melide.

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