Mos, 10th October 2023

Buen Camino,

I didn’t tell you where I stayed in Tui yesterday (kind of on purpose). The albergue was part of a building that had probably been a monastery. I wrote last night's letter from an armchair in the corridor, so the glow of my screen wouldn’t disturb the other pilgrims sleeping. At 10 p.m. sharp, the lights went out. Which was pretty creepy. The albergue didn’t even have a kitchen. But it was nice. Just… different from the other places I’d stayed, with something mysterious about it. Not that I was scared. But the mystical energy was definitely there. I think everyone else felt it too. Nobody spoke, and I ended up having the quietest, calmest evening so far.

The morning pilgrim races happen in Spain too. Plus, they still kick us out of albergues at 8 a.m., just like in Portugal. But while Portugal gets its first light around 7:30, the Spanish sun doesn’t rise until nearly 8:30. Which means pilgrims are forced to set off into the dark. I find that illogical. Tomorrow, for example, the first stage is through a forest. Good thing I packed a headlamp.

My phone was also panicking this morning. It couldn’t decide what country it was in. I got about ten "welcome" texts from T-Mobile. It woke me correctly at 7 a.m. Spanish time, but when I asked it to remind me to leave in 15 minutes, it got confused — because suddenly it thought it was only 6:45. If you’re confused by all that, don’t worry, so was I, ending up bolting out of the albergue at 7:58, slippers on my feet and wet laundry full of safety pins in my hands.

I didn’t feel like walking through town in the dark, so I treated myself to my first Camino churros at a local chocolate shop. I finally left Tui just before 9, under a sky blushing pink.

Tui is a beautiful town, truly arcane. Sort of a fortress on a hill. High stone walls, narrow winding alleys, endless stairs.