Walked: 39.0 Km
This morning I needed to make a pit stop while I was passing a small village. It was so small I doubted there would be anything there, but I was wrong: there was a bar and a forno de pan (bread oven) with great reviews on gmaps (ugh, I know).
At the wood oven place they made cocas. I had never tried a coca before, perhaps because a good friend from this region described them as "a pizza without cheese" which sounded like a lactose intolerant compromise.
Two ladies who were sisters were at the front of the operation. they explained to me in exquisite detail (slowly, in Catalán) what kind of cocas they had. I answered in Spanish. I guess a non-Catalan Spaniard (a tautology according to the politics of this region) would have taken this as an affront, but I was excited that the language was mostly intelligible to me for the first time.
They gave me a choice from what they had in their showcase. I chose a coca made from aubergines and red peppers:
After weighing the slice they asked me if I was walking the camino. I assented. "Very well then, it's nothing, buen camino". I believed I was twisting Catalan to my convenience, "Are you saying it's free because I'm a pilgrim?" I confirmed in Spanish. "Yes, our parents used to do this and we continue the tradition", one of them told me. I fumbled saying "no no, please allow me...", but then I understood this was a gift to be received with gratitude. My face lit up with a big smile and I said "that's so generous of you, you are very kind, I really appreciate it", I said putting my hand to the heart. We bid farewell and I went to a nearby plaza to taste my first coca.
I have no idea how such a simple thing could pack so much flavour. It smelled of wood and tasted like love. Biting into it made me want to cry, and this comes from a guy who chows down food like a dog. The only thing I found in common with a cheeseless pizza was its description.
Now I'm afraid of trying another coca because I know it won't be as good as this one. God bless these ladies and their parents who taught them how to work with love.
No calorie count today because I ate partially along the way and that messes up calculations. Not that it's important, I will probably drop it once I get a good grasp on how much I need to eat per day.
I'm getting bored and that's a very good thing. I had made the commitment to register any embarrassing memories that surfaced, but nothing came up. Mental blabbering seems to be subsiding. The walk is doing its magic.
Balaguer has no albergues, so I had to stay at a hotel. I originally intended to stay at the cheapest hostel, which had bad reviews, but I walked past another hostel which was slightly more expensive with better reviews. The attendant told me it was 35 euros. "I called the other hostel and they have a room for 30, would it be possible to match the price?", he said yes, but the room he had for me would have a shared bathroom and no AC. I took it, and after a night of restful sleep in a proper bed I can say it was totally worth it.