The Laundromat
8/6/26 · Ron VandenBurg“Thank you, God, for dirty laundry, Monday fish markets, closed cathedrals, and the opportunity to create a small community of good fellowship in a laundromat along the Camino.”
Halfway along the Camino, I wasn't excited about doing my dirty laundry in my hotel room. As I walked through the city of Pontevedra around noon, I was glad to see some laundromats, hoping to find a quicker, more efficient way to handle that chore.
Cathedral View of Pontevedra in the early evening
The hiking group's leaders, Fred and Shirley, had agreed to let me tag along when they did laundry. I figured that then I wouldn't be venturing to do this task solo with Spanish instructions. But first, with most of the day available, I explored the city and soon discovered that Monday afternoons in Pontevedra were disappointing for visiting the local museum (closed), the local fish market (no fishing on Sunday), and the local cathedral (closed at 1:30/open at 5 p.m.). When I received Shirley's text to head to the laundromat, I resigned myself to a necessary chore.
Meeting them in the lobby with my bag of clothes and detergent packets, Fred and Shirley told me they had spotted a laundromat beside an inviting bookstore. That sounded like a fun mini-adventure with them after all. The laundromat was already busy with washing machines and dryers mostly full. With the bookstore closed (sigh), the three of us settled in to figure out the machines. Fred and Shirley filled the first available machine and got things started. I was ready to pull out Google Translate to read the signs. Two other people were already there. A young man was busy over at the dryers. We hikers sat in the available chairs beside a quiet Spanish-speaking lady.
Early on, I showed everyone there that I was unsure about instructions and payment methods. Sensing I had questions, the kind woman came to my aid, and with a little help from Google Translate, I was able to get the answers. I thanked her for the help, and we continued chatting using my phone. Her name was Barbara, and soon her two children, Rowena and Guillermo, came in to meet up with their mom. They were curious when they saw her helping a Camino hiker.
Soon, young Rowena had taken over my phone to tell me who she was and what her favorite Disney movies were. Her older brother, Guillermo, hesitated to chat at first, nervous about his English, but soon showed his mother how to access Google Translate on her phone and told me who would win FIFA this year. Guillermo even began translating my questions before I had a chance to share them on my phone. Curious, Rowena then asked me who the two people were that I was with. That prompted Fred and Shirley to join the four of us, and the laundromat became a lively party of friendly chatting and laughter.
Barbara then told us a small piece of her story. She was Venezuelan-born. Her children were born in Colombia. They had been living in Spain for a year, where Barbara worked at a retirement facility, and the children attended school. She confided to us that the family had felt alone and a little sad. She then smiled to say that this afternoon had been a real blessing. “You made my children happy,” she said. They were very grateful to have met us and had such a wonderful time together. Shirley, Fred, and I felt the same gratitude.
With permissions, we all took some photos together. I even pulled in the young man by the dryers, who revealed that he understood a lot more English than we had originally thought. After he took some group shots, he waved, smiled, and wished us well, a happy spectator to the afternoon's events.
Ron VandenBurg with the Pontevedra sign
With everyone's laundry done, Barbara turned to us and thanked us for giving her family a new hope, then typed, "Si Dios quiere, por favor, no se olviden de nosotros. (God willing, please do not forget us)." Her children echoed her words as they left together.
Thank you, God, for dirty laundry, Monday fish markets, closed cathedrals, and the opportunity to create a small community of good fellowship in a laundromat along the Camino.