Clothes pegs: the currency of the Camino
Many of the “essential packing” lists I consulted before leaving for Spain recommended taking clothes pegs or large safety pins. I ignored them all, figuring I’d get by without the extra few grams of weight and oh, how I came to envy people their pegs! I could only drape my essential laundry over the wires with a serious risk that it would be blown into the dust.
And at Tardajos I was late in getting my laundry done. The fierce drying heat of the sun had faded by the time I had hung it out so had to leave the next morning wearing wet socks and underwear. Not a great start to the day.
It had been another entertaining evening though. An old, long-bearded, pilgrim called Pedro (who referred to himself as Bin Laden) hung around the dusty outdoor bar area with his dog for a few hours. He had done the Camino nine times, he said, walking both ways. Eventually, after tipping a tin of dog food onto a newspaper for the young lab, he set off into the night.
Many people had written about hating this stage of the road. I was sure pretty soon that I was going to love it.