You’ve heard the rhyme. Good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.
But did you know that bedbugs are a very real threat on the Camino? I’ve seen some pretty bad bites, talked to people who had their albergue shut down the day they were leaving due to an infestation, and heard from a friend that one couple gave up after two bedbug attacks.
I was actually pretty freaked out about the bedbug thing when I started my walk, which is why I treated my backpack and sleeping bag with permethrin, and I check the mattresses regularly each night. Yet, despite my best efforts, two big bites appeared on my neck today and then two more on my face.
So I am now sitting in my dorm room in a T-shirt and boxer shorts while all my clothes, backpack, and sleeping bag are washed in hot water and dried. (The clothes I’m wearing will go in the laundry next.) I’ve gone through everything else I’m carrying (e.g. each page of my passport, each item in my first aid kit, removed my phone from its case) to make sure I didn’t have any stray hitchhikers.
It wasn’t my best day. The only bright spot was a care package I picked up at the post office along the way from my hubby (who is awesome). But it was a scenic walk. Enjoy the photos!
Today I walked 20 miles.
Not lovin’ the bedbug thing. Yuck. But way to hang in there and crank out 20 despite it all!
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AWWW, what a guy. A keeper for sure. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. AAGGHH!
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What an amazing husband you have. I’m so sorry about the bites, and hope that’s your quota for this experience. It’s not far now, hang in there. Love you, Dad
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Lovely pics of cherry tree blossoms and outbreak of an old vineyard. And now another poem (sorry, it´s me) of Luis de Gongora, a famous poet of de spanish “Golden Century” generation (between the sixteenth and seventeenth century). This is a stanza of one of his sonnets:
De chinches y de mulas voy comido,
Las unas culpa de una cama vieja,
Las otras de un Señor que me las deja
Veinte días y más, y se ha partido.
Translation:
By bedbugs and mules I’m being eaten (bitten)
The few because of an old bed,
The other of a Lord lends me
Twenty days and more, and and I ‘ll be gone.
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