When I came back to the albergue after my walkabout I found the American girls ensconced. Sheryl was nowhere to be found though. I found out later that day that she was having trouble with one of her feet and was walking at her own pace. Although I was keeping what I liked to think of as a ' perfect distance', I was quite pleased to see them.
Later, when reunited, they were having supper in the restaurant, they invited me to join them. I'd already scarfed down something--I think it was eggs, but I joined them for a glass of wine, and to hear about their day.
It hadn't started terribly well. On the first big hill out of Portomarin, they'd come upon a death scene. One of that large group of older people whom I'd seen in the cafe that morning had a heart attack on the hill and was lying under a blanket. From time to time on the Camino, one comes upon memorials to fallen pilgrims. In fact, at the very top of that hill there was a little shrine to a fallecido. It was sobering, every time you came upon one. It encouraged you to seize the day, because one minute you're enjoying a jovial breakfast with your friends, and the next you're lying dead on the ground. Boom!
They were loving the freedom from responsibility that the Camino afforded them. I admired their ability to leave their children for that long and still be able to enjoy it. I mentioned that I had seen them in Morgade, home of the best almond tart I'd ever eaten, and asked if they'd had one. They hadn't, but decided to remedy that now, when I said that it was one of the best things about Galicia. Having tasted it, they agreed. One of the other best things about Galicia is albariño, a local white wine. I asked for a glass so they could try it.
It was, without doubt, one of the most amazing glasses of wine I've experienced. I've tried to figure out what it was; I've even thought about phoning the restaurant to find out which one they serve. The closest description of an albariño I've found to what we tasted is for Lagar de Cervera 2007, from the Rias Baixas, the area by the Atlantic which is characterized by deep fiords. Here's what one reviewer had to say.
Dusty apple and mineral aromas are for starters. Next is a palate of green apple, citrus and pineapple that rises above the fray. And then there’s that finish of mineral and pineapple essence that seals the deal.
I'm no oenophile, but, as they say, I know what I like and I liked that chilly glass of wine. My three euros (an enormous price to pay for a single glass of wine in a country where you can have a whole bottle for a euro fifty; in a restaurant) got me a copious quantity of this magical stuff, and my cheeks were burning by the time I'd finished it. Even now, for me, and I believe for those three great women, its like the lost chord of wine drinking. It also felt like we'd sealed our friendship with that shared glass. Back in Oregon and back in Ontario, I know we've all had forays into the albariños available on this side of the ocean, but there will never be another glass like that one.
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