Day 32: The stamp maker

Dear traveler, 

How great a good night's sleep is! I wake up and I see Mamarmot smiling and happy.

We start off in the chilly morning, through the small village. 

The path takes us past the store in which storefront I saw the T-Shirt yesterday. The octopus watches me form behind the window but there's no sign that the store would be open. I think so, at this time people usually sleep. 

As the village ends, the forest begins. A green and chilly forest in which we can hear only the sound of our steps and the songs of the birds.

And my voice, of course.

Sometimes, by looking at one single leaf, thousands of questions pop into my mind. And usually, my folks will have an answer for each. And, as you can see, here, there are many leaves. Therefore my questions are complicated.

From time to time we get out of the forest, into a small village that doesn't have more than a few houses but many, many colored flowers.

At a snack stop we find a person that seems familiar somehow. He's got a small desk and he seems to be offering stamps. It's perfect, as we needed stamps anyway.

Hearing us speaking, he replies in romanian:

-"I'm happy to meet you, I haven't met Romanians on the Camino for some time."

He tells us he is Romanian but has been living in Spain for some years. And that he's a paralympic athlete. 

I'm not sure what this means but I notice on his desk a picture of himself. Then I realize why he seemed familiar. In the storefront where I saw the octopus, it was his picture too. How cool!

Apparently he walked the Camino many times, both by foot and by bike. He stays around here and offers stamps to the pilgrims.

I'm about to find out that it's not about usual stamps. 

From a box filles with small silver objects, he asks me to choose what I want. Shells, small crosses, flowers, doggies. Hmm, I'll choose the doggy.

Carefully, he pours a red liquid like fire on my passport, over the string that holds the doggy medallion, and with some sort of metal stamp he presses it thoroughly. I'm fascinated. And our passports have now something special inside, from a fellow Romanian.

We thank him and we continue our walk.

Back on the trail, back in the forest. And then out of it once more. From green we move to all sorts of colors given by the spring flowers. They're so beautiful that I can't take my eyes off them.

In a small clearing, we find a car..actually, a pocket car as it's veeery small, with its trunk loaded with fruits. We can leave a cent for each fruit casserole so we fill up for the road. Mmmmm.

I love kiwi and it gives me so much energy that now I jump and run around.

-"Marmot, if you got this much energy, why don't you carry your backpack?"

-"I have a better idea! Why don't I carry yours?"

Mamarmot doesn't believe me but I keep my word.

Look at me!

I've got some energy but it's hard to deal with Mamarmot's backpack. She always carries more than it's necessary!

I return Mamarmot's backpack and with the little energy that's left, we reach today's last village. 

We'll be staying in a stone house, just like a magic forest gnome house.

We have the river next to us and we can relax our feet in the ice cold water.

-"Dad, this bridge seems familiar!"

-"Yes, marmot, it's the last bridge from the labyrinth of bridges."

I can't believe how much we walked!

Jose and Bill show up after a few hours, tired from the walk. We meet up soon and have dinner together. We share memories and stories about the past days and I notice that I'm getting better and better at understanding their jokes. I feel like they're part of my family. 

The time comes to get back to the gnome house, in our beds. This wall made out of river stones is quite chilly. 

Outside, the river burbles as id it wants to tell me a bedtime story. The tale of the last bridge on the Camino. Or maybe the tale of the stamp maker, that enchanted each pilgrim with one unique stamp, just for him. Regardless of the tale the river will choose tonight, it convinced me already. Good night!