The next morning was mist, and lots of it. Visibility was at times less than 30 feet or so. It was a long, cold, misty, and rainy walk.

After a few hours I came across Peter and Morag. We chatted and strolled together for a bit until my knees started to ache. I slowed down for a few kilometers. I caught a second wind and met up with them again when they were have a rest stop near the top of a hill in the shade of a lone tree.

Our intention was to take the southern route into Burgos as the normal route leads you through 10 kilometres of industrial wasteland. Most guide books recommend avoid it by taking the south trail which is just a few kilometers longer but much nicer, or to take a bus from the outskirts of Burgos from the little bedroom community of Villa Fria. Well, we missed the south turnoff and ended up in Villa Fria. We were not to sure where the bus stop would be but Morag, an astute student of history and European culture surmised that it would be by the cultural centre of town; the church. She was right, it was right across the street from the church.

We found it quite strange to be in a motorized vehicle for the first time in almost two weeks. Fortunately the ride was relatively short and we were deposited near city centre. We found our way to the cathedral with the help of Peter’s GPS phone and we separated as I was looking for the albergue and they were going to try for a 2-star hostel or hotel.

The albergue is not too great. It had started to rain while I waited in line and the albergue itself is humid and wet. Really one of the least comfortable albergues I’ve seen. Everything felt damp, and shortly so did all my clothes and gear. I was going to start running out of dry clothes soon. Oh well. Life on the Camino.

I went to the Burgos city centre with Keith, Alex, and Birgit and we had an amazing supper at Restaurante Meson de los Infantes. It was the best meal I have had on the trip so far. Garlic soup with an egg in it and a roast chicken to die for, the obligatory french fries (they get served with everything here) and then cheese drizzled with honey for desert. Then we rolled to the cathedral. I was gobsmacked! I’ve never seen anything like it! It was immense, ornate, and inspiring. I was amazed by the shear devotion and man-hours that went into the building and the artworks. I even saw El Cid’s tomb.

Keith and I then wandered in the rain searching for bank machines. We were wrapped in the two very thin ponchos I had luckily picked up in Belorado, mine was yellow, and Keith’s was orange. This was followed by a few hours shopping for socks, postcards, fruit, bread, ponchos, stamps, and phone cards. Then Keith took me to the old city of Burgos to have a look around. Keith is a right, good mate. We saw some statues of El Cid and I think a Constable.

We started to head back to the albergue by way of the cathedral and stopped to make calls our Sandy and Alice. While hanging around the pay phone, Ellen found us and noted in her wonderful Dublin accent, that we “Look like ****’in condoms!” I like Ellen.

So we had some wine and beer in a street café with her and Danny (who graciously suggested I call Sandy on her cell phone as my phone card was giving me trouble) and we then paid a visit to Anne and Mo as they were in a hotel not far away. Keith and I had a glass of wine and we exchanged contact information with Ellen, Mo, and Anne ad we were not sure if our paths would merge again. Then back to the albergue, a damp sleeping bag and a sleeping pill.

Left Burgos in the rain. It kept up for most of the day. Fortunately, I had my new poncho.

I walked steady for 9 km to Taradajos. Occasionally, I could see Keith’s yellow slicker in the distance moving quickly and possibly Peter and Morag’s green and red gortex jackets as well as I moved though the rolling hills and valleys. When I got to Taradajos I sat with Peter, Morag, and Birgit just long enough to say hi over a café con leche and a pastry. After they trekked out, I leaned back with my eyes closed and recouped some energy before starting out again myself.

I seemed to pick up a bit of euphoria. I like to think it was the alchemical mixing of coffee and sweet pastry with 10 days of ibuprofen, sleeping pills, and codeine. I felt great and I trudged on at a fairly good clip.

Partly due to my temporary vigor and partly due to the rain which left the paths submerged and muddy;I caught up to Peter and Morag, and trust me, they can move at a good clip. It was a frightful walk the last 6 km to Hontanas. Most people were walking off the track on the elevated side, but it was rocky and treacherous. Peter and Morag had to walk right down the centre in most cases, as it was too difficult for Morag to lead Peter over the rocks. I walked with them for a bit and then decided to move on in hope of getting a room before they were all taken – a very real concern this year it seemed.

When I got to the Hontanos, the private and very nice albergue was already booked. Keith, of course, moved like a demon when he walks and he had already checked in and having a beer. I moved on to the municipal albergue, which turned out to be very nice as well.

I noted a hotel up the hill as I had walked into town so I decided to see if they had any rooms left. It turns out they had one and I reserved it for Peter and Morag. They were having a rough day with all the deep water and mud and were soaked past their knees. They were happy to have a nice place for the night.

I did some laundry and then sat in the café. I had a cerveza and wrote postcards to Sandy and the kids. I spotted Keith and we sat at the counter and had another. It had been a long day.

We sat down with Peter, Morag, Katie, Danny, and Birgit for some wine. Actually, I believe it was two bottles, but there were several of us working the issue. We ended up having dinner at a large table together. It was the usual good food and companionship, and a fine time.

After dinner Keith, Danny, Birgit, and I joined Peter and Morag in their room to discuss strategy for the next day. We decided that with all the traffic on the Camino and limited destination possibilities for the next day, we would be best off booking the next night in advance. So, Keith called a Pensione in Fromista for us all. Then we all went back to our respective albergues to get some sleep.

Soundscape – birds

Michael called to say he had made it to Hontanas. He should be in Leon within six days, and since the terrain is fairly flat here, his old man knees shouldn’t give him trouble. He’s hoping to take a rest day in Leon, and hope he can dry out some clothes – it’s been raining steadily.

My favourite part of this is getting voice mail. First you get a “You have a message, followed by a long set of digits, then a hang up. No “I’m in Blah, and I’m fine, call you in two hours”. I will have words…

Michael called to say there is no internet access until probably Leon. It’s also been “#%@*ing raining for the entire day”. Right now he’s in a small town that was the bread basket of the Western Roman Empire: Fromista. Shin splints are flaring up, and his rest day may have to come sooner than later.

I left Hontanas in the rain. This is becoming so familiar. Slog, slog, slog. Too bad about the rain as it was a lovely walk, but I had to keep the camera packed to protect it.

The walk to Castrojériz followed a road for a good portion, but the trees were pleasant and there wasn’t too much traffic. My legs were quiet painful, and my left shin was really giving me problems today. It has swollen up a fair bit too and I’m afraid that I may have either shin splints or tendonitis.

As I walked down the road I could see Castrojériz slowly grow larger in the distance. It is a stunning building and I cursed again that my camera was in the middle of my pack. I stopped at a café that is right beside Castrojériz and said hi to Keith who was just leaving. I sat with Morag and Peter for some café con leche and bocadillos. We were outside a porch, warming up as best we could with cafés and relaxing. There were a fair number of other pilgrims there and the mood seemed a bit subdued. Too grey for too long I think. I set out again.

Just past Castrojériz, I encountered an old raised Roman road. It had been updated a little on the top to keep things together, but none the less it was a cool feeling to walk along it. It rose a good five feet above the surrounding terrain and you could see the tactical advantage this would give travelling soldiers. It easily outweighed the fact that it made you somewhat obvious. Hard to sneak along a raised road, but then again, I don’t think sneaking was a standard Roman tactic. I could be wrong.

Just past the Roman road section, the Camino raises high and sharp to the meseta above. I had some trouble moving up the incline and had to stop several times along the way. Thankfully, the trail at this point is well covered in gravel. I can’t imagine what it would have been like going up that incline if it were covered in mud. I rested at the top, then began a long walk across somewhat rolling plains. This part of the walk was riddled with pools of rainwater and mud and I found it hard going. I stopped to take some extra codeine.

I stopped in on a café in Itero de la Vega to get out of the rain and to have a café con leche and some food. As I arrived, I bumped into Keith and Danny as they were heading out. We chatted and laughed a bit while I helped them get their raingear on. Then Keith, being the wonderful man that he is, started to dance around his walking stick while singing the classic rain song; Singing in the Rain. We all had a great laugh and several incoming pilgrim replaced their tired frowns with smiles. Well, except for one German pilgrim who just gave Keith a frown and muttered “Not normal” which of course made people laugh even more. Peter and Morag arrived as I was ordering so we joined each other for a meal and to dry out.

Along this part of the path I met an interesting man, whose name I unfortunately remember. He is, if my memory can be trusted, a Dane and, from what I can tell, rather highly placed in the Schweppes company. I told him that Sandy and I love Schweppes and that it is the only brand of tonic and club soda we drink. He seemed pleased and we walked together for an hour or so until I noted that I was holding him back and I suggested he head on without me.
The last part of the day to Fromista was very painful and I could feel it getting worse with each step. Peter and Morag passed me and expressed some concern, but there is little that could be done. I told them I’d meet up to them in Fromista. When I arrived, the last of our little group, I found the pensione we had booked. Keith was drying out in our room, Danny, Birgit, Peter and Morag were doing the same in their respective rooms. I stuffed my boots with newspaper and had a much-needed hot shower followed by more painkillers, followed by cerveza.

Keith, Birgit, Danny and I then went out to visit the famous Fromista cheese museum. It was interesting, if somewhat underwhelming. It did however serve a nice cheese plate and Birgit treated us to a bottle of red wine. Peter and Morag joined us and we relaxed with the wine until we decided it was time to visit the church, Iglesia de San Martin. The church was lovely and the carvings were quiet extraordinary, in my opinion. Later we went out for dinner and had some lovely garlic soup, followed up with a bottle of wine in Keith’s and my room. We discussed our plans for the next day. Morag and Peter were going to do the 37 km stretch, Danny and Birgit the 20, and Keith was undecided and intended to play it by ear. I had to make the difficult choice of moving on by foot or moving my train and resting.

I debated the pros and cons with my walking companions, and I came to the conclusion that I need to give my body a rest for a day or two. I have been in pain since Zubiri and the shin splints (or tendonitis) are getting worse. I barely made the 35 km to Fromista. It was a difficult choice for me.

As Keith said (paraphrased), “You’ve damned well walked over 350 km in pain, take a rest. Are you walking for pride, or for other reasons?”

But as I think on it, one of the many reasons I decided to do the Camino was that I often play things by rote and cautiously. Here I was forced to change a plan (with a certain amount of anxiety), adapt, and move on. In some ways this was part of my Camino, walked or not. I do hope that it will not have to be repeated though as I really have the hankering for a good walk already.

I was beating myself up a fair bit about it, but it seems the best solution is to take the train to Sahagun, rest a day while waiting for my walking group to catch up, and then try walking again. It means I miss about 50 km of the entire walk, but really that isn’t much. Cross your fingers for me.

So that is that. My train leaves at 8:00am and I should be back on the road in a few days.

Morning:

Well, it is morning in Fromista and I’m not walking today.

I left the pensione early in order to catch the train. Seeing people start the trail this morning while I was stuck taking the train bothered me a fair bit. I know I’m doing the right thing, but it is still hard watching them walk away.
I expected the train at about 7:00, but it seems to be Sunday (who knew?) so the train will not be coming until about 11:00. So, I’m sitting in a café having café con leche and tortilla. There are a few other pilgrims about. They are the late starters who seem to be wise enough to sleep in and start a bit later. More power to them; wish I could do that! Nevertheless, somewhere between 5:00 and 6:00 my eyes pop open.

So the plan is to take a train to Palencia and then transfer to a train to Sahagun. The others should arrive in Sahagun sometime tomorrow.

Afternoon:

The Fromista train station is actually quite pretty. I got there early and noticed three or four other injured pilgrims. As well, I saw a group of tourigrinos. They were easy to spot as their packs and equipment were spotless and they had two tour guides with them. I hope that these people don’t stay in the albergues. No walking (or cycling), no albergue.

Palencia is a pretty city and the train station is right beside a lovely park that I had the pleasure of walking through. I then sat in the train station café and had some tonica and a bocadillo. The tonic was fine, but the sandwich couldn’t hold a candle to the ones you get in the small towns. It came from some vending company somewhere else in the city, wrapped in plastic. Oh well. I caught my next train and was off to Sahagun.

When I got here, I looked for a hostel or hotel. I lucked out and found the Alfonso VI. I went in to ask about rates for two nights, and was originally quoted 35 euros per night, but he looked at my limp and my pack and changed it to 30 euros. People are really nice to pilgrims here. The owner and his wife seem to run the place on the their own. They have cheap internet available, so I was able to exchange a fair number of e-mails with Sandy today. That improved my mood a lot.

After a rest I walked about the town and did some shopping for supper and tomorrow’s breakfast. Sahagun is a lovely little town with a lot of character and some very beautiful buildings. I walked down some older streets looking for the medical clinic (which was closed – so I have to go early tomorrow) and found some cool graffiti. I went to the café that is on the corner just down from the hostal and had a beer and some snacks. Now I’m off to rub on some ibuprofen gel, pop some pills, and go to bed.

Last night was somewhat strange. Late night Spanish television is bizarre, especially if you don’t speak Spanish. It is filled with call-in money games and bad adventure movies with women in tank tops, and a more than fair share of how-to-speak-English programming. However, and although it may have been the painkillers, watching an English animation movie about two Spaniards dubbed into Spanish just seemed somewhat surreal. There I was in the middle of the night watching Road to El Dorado on Spanish TV.

Early this morning I finally dragged myself in to see a doctor. Nice guy and with some pantomime we were able to communicate. He proscribed another huge dose of ibuprofen (600 mg 3 times per day for 3 days) and three days of rest. I´m working on my second day (if you include the light day of travelling by train to Sahagun). So, I should be able to walk either tomorrow or the day after that.

I am going to have to take a train or bus to get to the point (most likely Leon) in order to get to Santiago on time, but I’ve come to terms with that. Sometimes I wonder why I just didn’t do the official Camino from Sarria to Santiago. It is only about 120 km, but no, Michael has to do things the hard way and try for the 950 km or so route. Go figure.

After visiting the doctor, I stopped in at the corner café for some breakfast and down time. Then I did some shopping, cleaned my gear up a bit, and then lazed around the centre of town until almost noon. There was a nice little bench right beside the municipal albergue. I lay there and watched the incredibly blue sky while listening to some songs on my headphones, most memorably What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong. It truly was a glorious day with a lovely sun and a calming little breeze. I lay there for quite some time watching the swallows swoop through the sky; flying in and out of their nests that lay within the corrugated tile roof of the alburge.

Finally I decided that I need to move again and I walked up to look at the bullring and to lounge by the train overpass until I decided that a mid-afternoon cerveza was in order. On to the corner café. I wish I could remember what it was called. It was on the corner of Calle de Antonio Nicolás and Av de la Constitutión, but the name escapes me.

While sitting there I spotted Mette! After a big hug, I walked her down to the Alfonso so she could get a room there as well. I then moved back to the café again while she settled in and rested. While sitting there I spotted Keith and soon after Birgit. So we sat for a nice cerveza in the sun. We were joined later my Mette and a German lady named Sarah. Finally, Peter and Morag passed by and joined us and talk turned to dinner.

We wandered a bit looking for a place and found one that advertised paella. We should have known something was wrong when the waiter pointed out that most of the menu was not available; no paellas left, just some of the pizzas, and certain pasta dishes. He even told us now many he had left of each; after he checked the big drugstore style ice cream freezer with the sliding top. Yup, all the food there was microwave dinners. We even had to send one back – I think it was Sarah’s – as it wasn’t fully defrosted, much less heated. The wine was bad too.

We went for a walk about to banish the memory of the meal and see the sights. We ended up at the café for a nightcap. Finally, off to bed and meds.

I have just finished up spending two nights in Sahagun. I´m travelling by train this morning to El Burgo Ranero (a ten-minute train ride) where I will overnight , then I´m on to Leon to spend two nights. This will give me four rest days, which is one more than suggested. But I want to be sure of my legs and it will sync me up with my travelling companions.

Although most days are spent walking at your own pace, groups tend to form of people with similar walking schedules who will tour the towns, cafes, and restaurants together. The groups shift around at times as not everyone is always on the same schedule, but they often sync back in three to four days. I´m in a good group.

I often travel with:

• Anne: A Canadian angel! She is a nurse and is always help people with their ailments. My feet thanks her!
• Birgit: A German woman who is unfortunately leaving to go home in the next few days but she will finish the Camino in the fall. She is filled with life and she has an infectious smile.
• Danny: A German woman who works in food marketing. Danny is full of humour and one of the most determined people I’ve met.
• Keith: A retired Scot who sings in the rain and is our main Spanish interpreter. Good man to share travels, beer, coffee, and walks int he rain with.
• Mette: A Dane who I met the second day out. Like so many of us, she is looking for answers and supplying some (to me) at the same time.
• Mo: A Canadian proferssor! She has a sharp mind, quick smile, and can keep a long conversation going. Useful when walking, and walking, and walking for hours at a time.
• Morag: An Australian climate researcher who is Peter´s wife and guide. An inspiring woman, she is a minister, a researcher, an excellent conversationalist and has the warmest “hello” on the Camino.
• Peter: An Australian climate researcher who happens to be blind. Charming, and so very, very funny.

Well, I made it easily to El Burgo Ranero. The rail system in Spain is wonderfully on time and cheap. However, the town turned out to be over a kilometre from the train station. I was worried that it would undo some the healing I accomplished in Sahagun. But there was nothing for it, so off I went. The town itself was a little less than I had hoped for. It didn’t feel like a place I’d want to spend a rest day, so I started looking around for any sign of a bus station that might get me to Mansilla de las Mulas which I read was a very nice place to stay. I ended up in front of the albergue, which was closed. I peeked in the window and noticed someone cleaning up, so I tapped on the door hoping for get some info. The door opened to reveal a young Spaniard with a thick beard and a broom in his hands. I asked about the bus to Mansilla, and he smiled and pointed behind me. While standing there at the door the bus had pulled into El Burgo behind me. I grinned back and said “Gracias!” and ran to the bus.

I got to Mansilla de las Mulas in good time as the bus system in Spain is every bit as good as the rail system. The bus itself was very clean, air conditioned, and the driver had chosen a decent radio station to filter through the sound system. I noticed that most radio stations in Spain seem to play a lot of North American music, not just the modern pop hits either, some good back catalog pops up. Don McLean’s American Pie on a bus in Spain, nice.

When I arrived in Mansilla, a little old lady decided that I needed help in finding the city centre and hostel. She was very kind and could not speak a work in English, this did not stop her and she kept up a monologue most of the way, stopping only to genuflect when we passed a church. I followed her for almost an hour while she happily chatted in Spanish. I did not want to be rude and just trudge off, but she had gotten me to the city centre and I knew I wouldn’t have a problem finding an albergure or hostel, but she was determined to see me to shelter. Finally I we came across a local that conveyed my thanks and that I would be fine now. So she smiled and led one last time to the plaza and wished me well with a hug. I love the people in Spain.

I checked out one of the hostels along Calle de los Mesones, but I had heard of a nice, if a little pricy one on Calle de La Conception. So I went in search. I am so glad I found it! It is called the Alberguería del Camino. It is a charming little place with a café/bar on the main floor, a courtyard in back, very nice sitting/gaming/reading room upstairs and beautiful rooms. I’m very happy that I found such a nice place. After showering and settling in, I went downstairs for a cerveza and the best cheese bocadillo I have ever had; the bread was fresh and crusty and it has at least three types of cheese including a very pleasant Camembert. It was so very good!

I then went out for a little walk to check out the open air market. It had everything from clothes to watches to rugs to baked chicken. It was a nice little diversion and I found I had to really reign in my temptation to spend my euros. Afterward, during siesta I was window shopping for a store to buy some food supplies for the next day. A local saw me and said, “Hey peregrino!” then pointed at the closed shop I was looking at and stated “No, no – mucho dinero!” and then he directed me to the local Dios that not only was open but was decidedly less expensive.

While heading back with my small cache of chorizo, bread, oranges, and chocolate I saw Keith, Birgit, and Katie sitting in the central plaza! I was especially surprised to see Keith as he was supposed to have stopped at a town a quite a bit before Mansilla. However, he had found himself past that town rather unexpectedly and decided to head on rather than backtrack. Lucky for me as he is always good company. We were all quite happy to see each other again and decide to have dinner together. We decided that based upon my lunchtime bocadillo, we would try the dinner at my hostel.

While waiting for dinner, Keith and I sat in the hostel’s lounge and talked about our travels so far, our families, and thoughts on the Camino. It was a nice downtime and Keith shared some great stories about how he met his wife, Alice.

At dinner, we all opted for the rather simple but very flavourful fried eggs. Yum! We chatted a little with another pilgrim sitting at the next table who was walking the Camino solo, and at a nice slow pace. It gave him a lot of time to explore the areas around the towns he is staying in. It would be tempting to do that in the future at some point, take perhaps 6 weeks to walk from St. Jean to Santiago. Finally, the food and wine started to hit us and after dessert we went our separate ways.

Tomorrow they walk to Leon and I will take my last bus of the walk to Leon. Keith and I have a pensione pre-booked for two nights. Peter, Morag, and Danny are also booked somewhere in Leon for a two nights.

The Camino does what the Camino does. As I was waiting for the bus to take me to León this morning, in walked Peter and Morag. Morag´s ankle is starting to get inflamed so they decided it would be best to bus the last bit of the walk to León and to take a rest day. I provided her with some of my Ibuprofen 600s and we climbed onto the bus and chatted a bit and relaxed.

We hit León in fairly short order and we gathered our gear and set off to cross the river. The river in León is a lovely area with green space on both side and what looks like hydro electric stations along it. We passed a small plaza and set about looking for a café to have some food and drink. We found a lovely little cafe and we each had two cafe con leche and tortilla. It was a very nice meal and the conversation and the company were great. We discussed both faith and politics and I’m sure we were there for at least an hour. Afterwards, we continued our walk to the Cathedral and set off to find our respective beds.

Keith and I have booked a double room in a pensione. It is worn, somewhat clean, and cheap. All good. The big plus to the room is it overlooks the Plaza Mayor and you can see the top of the León Cathedral in a few blocks over. I arrived before Keith, but I spotted him walking across the plaza towards us while I was sitting on the balcony. Later, Keith pointed out that I put far too much faith in that balcony, which is most likely true. However, it was so nice to sit on this tiny balcony in the shade of the pensione watching the market below me.

Keith and I set off to explore a bit and to find someplace to backup my photos onto a disk. We toured the maze that is the side-streets in León and almost got lost once or twice. Along the way we found a nice little sporting goods shop. Keith picked up a very nice poncho that has an expandable hump for his pack and I picked up a pack cover.. We found a nice little bookshop that sold pen and paper, an British newspaper, a cool female pirate statue in front of a novelty shop (photo op!), a camera store near the river that transferred by photos, and on the way back to the pensione we hit upon a nice little neighborhood bar that had very good lomo bocadillos, so we ate. Back at the pensione we sat about reading and writing postcards. I also wrote a letter to Sandy and package the CD to be sent home.

We went off to post the stuff and met with Birgit. Off we went sightseeing with Birgit. We hit the old walls and followed them about and back toward the cathedral.

Then at 7:00 we met with Peter and Morag, Birgit, Katie, and Ellen (from Sweden?). During dinner I decided to exchange my pack cover for a poncho like Keith’s. Fortunately the restaurant was right beside the sporting goods shop. It was a nice dinner, and said our farewells to Birgit, Ellen, and Katie as they would head off in the morning.

Soundscape – León Open Air Market

It was a cool morning with grey clouds and some light drizzles that made the cobblestone streets slick. Keith and I started with breakfast in a nice café by the Cathedral. We sat in the warmth of the  café by the window and watched the Leónese move about town in the morning light. The café con leche was marvelous and the croissants a little bit of heaven. We sat and chatted a while. A pleasant morning indeed…

As we sat there, four postal workers came in pulling their mail trolleys behind them. They stood by the bar and ordered cafes and a shot of some sort to warm up. This isn’t that uncommon in Spain from what I can see – I’ve even saw a police officer have a beer on his lunch break in one town. You would never see that in Canada, well, not without a huge uproar. But here, in Spain, it doesn’t seem to be an issue. People tend to drink very responsibly here. They may have one drink or perhaps two, but then go on with their day.

Eventually, Keith and I left the café and headed out in search of a bank machine. We quickly found our little pots of gold and then headed back to the pensione to rest up and to finish up some correspondence before lunch.

Danny was expected to reach León at midday, and Keith and I had arranged to meet her, Peter, and Morag by the Cathedral at noon. There were greetings and hugs all around. We all went to visit the Cathedral, and I have to say it was an amazing experience. It is magnificent. While the Burgos cathedral was a stunning experience, the León cathedral somehow seemed more… well, grounded. The Burgos Cathedral has a bit of a touristy feel to it that the León does not seem to have. I loved the Burgos Cathedral, but I felt something more here.  It was a deeply emotional experience, but perhaps too overwhelming. I still haven’t processed all that I saw and felt.

Afterward, we headed out in the rain to see the León parador. Along the way we found a lovely calligraphy shop. The gentleman who runs it – Antonio Suarez Gordon – was very nice and he produced beautiful work. I chatted with him for a few moments and offered up some vellum samples for Sandy, as well as his card and picture. Sandy would love this place!

We were a bit tired by the time we hit the plaza where the parador is, so we sat by a statue of a pilgrim for a few minutes and took some photos. Then we dropped into the parador itself to have a look around. Nice! I have high hopes now for the parador Sandy and I are going to in Jaen.

One the way back to the city centre, we separated with plans to meet again for dinner. Keith, Danny and I met Mette. We all stopped for some bocadillos, cerveza, and infusion de menta in the bar that Keith had discovered yesterday. I talked with Mette and caught up on her travels, and then we parted until supper.

Finally more rest, and then packing and preparing for tomorrow’s walking. I am so looking forward to walking again. My mind and body seem to need the walk. I’ll see how far I can go, I won’t push it.

For dinner we visited the same place as last night. It is a nice, little place with decent food and nice wine. There were a lot of us tonight, and a good three quarters of us were German. The mood was bright and once we filled our bellies, we streamed out into the shiny, wet León streets in search of our beds.

Soundscape – Bells of Leon

I did 29 km today. My ankle swelled up a bit a but I found that if I changed my stride a bit the pain diminished quite a bit. I left León a bit before Keith. But he, of course, passed me at some point. I must have been sitting having a café con leche or orange juice at the time.

I met up with Morag and Peter at Villadangos del Páramo. They were leaving as I arrived, but I found Danny and a German named Anne. I chatted with them while I had a quick fresh squeezed orange juice. They walked ahead and I very shortly had to rest at the side of the road to eat my packed lunch.

I met up with Peter and Morag a second time at San Martin del Camino, had a Pepsi with them and met Pixel II. Morag was a in a bit of pain and they both seemed tired today. I met up with them a third time as we entered Hospital de Orbigo. As we walked to town we saw cloth hanging from lines between the buildings and we debated whether the hangings we saw where banners or laundry. It turns out that they were banners for an upcoming festival. We ended up in the German albergue. It is very beautiful here and the hospitaler is quite nice too. He was talking to some people about how he felt that something needs to be done about the tourigrinos that do not walk or bike. Apparently he is working with other hospitalers to institute a black list of tourigrinos.

Keith is here too, but he took the taxi to find a dentist. While he was gone it started to rain. I took his socks from the line and I put them on his pack. When he got back, without any aid for his tooth, he thought someone had stole them. Morag told him the good news that I had saved them from the rain.

I went shopping at a little store near the start of town. I then walked down to the bridge and the tournament field. We will miss the yearly festival celebrating Don Suer de Quiniones. In 1434, Don Suero de Quiniones, pledged his love to a woman who, regrettably did not reciprocate. He fastened an iron collar around his neck as a sign that he was bound to her. He vowed that it would not be removed it until he had defeated 300 challengers on the bridge. Knights poured in from all over Europe and all that summer. He met and defeated them on the bridge of Orbigo. Once he had met his challenge, he made his pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. It looks like an exciting festival, complete with jousting. Too bad I can’t wait for it.

Keith and I were able to switch our rooms over to the front room that Morag and Peter are in. This will let us coordinate ourselves better in the morning. After that , the four of us went out to dinner. I had an amazing trout soup. As Peter said, it the best kind of soup, one that you can use a fork to move to one side of the plate. It is several large cubes of bread, sitting in a lovely broth, and a cross-slice of trout on top. The waiter should us how to use our forks to flick out the ribs with a swoop and similarly slip off the skin,. You then mash the fish into the bread and stir. It was heavenly. I followed that up with a equally good baked, whole trout. The wine was nice too. We walked back to the albergue, quite full and content.

I thought a lot about Sandy today. I think often of how just as I am leaving in the morning she is just going to sleep and how as I go to sleep, she is just leaving work. I look up at the night sky and she sees a blue sunny sky. Strange.

Soundscape – Birds

I had a decent sleep last night. However, when I went to the bathroom this morning I forgot to take my satchel with me. Someone took the opportunity to steal 50 euros, my photos, and some papers from me. Bastard. I didn’t even notice until I was just past San Juan de la Vega.

The day started well though. Keith, Peter, Morag, and I left together and had a nice walk to Villares de Orbigo. We separated as we walked and predictably Keith arrived first. In Villares de Orbigo we had a couple of café con leches and pastries. While sitting there we met Michelle. She is a South African who was doing the Camino at a fairly fast pace. She is very fit and seems to be keeping a high pace. We chatted about the life and in particular the state of South Africa. She did not seem hopeful. She was specifically concerned that basic infrastructure is slowly deteriorating. She had recently accepted an job in Europe and she expected not to return to South Africa anytime soon.

I walked by myself for a while with little or no pain. It was wonderful. The countryside was beautiful and the sun shone warm while a nice breeze kept it from getting too warm. I came upon a lovely pilgrim’s monument set up by some artistic local. I turned left there and came upon a lovely little valley amongst the rolling hills. There was a tiny bench sitting along the path in the centre of the valley. I unburdened my pack, sat down, pulled off my shoes and socks, and started on some chocolate as I sat with the sun on my face and the loveliest wind slipping over me. It was heaven. Shortly, Peter and Morag came by and joined me. It was nice to share such a beautiful spot and the chocolate.

We walked together up to San Justo de la Vega where we had a café con leche together. I then walked ahead to met Keith at the Bishop’s Palace. It was there that I noticed the missing money, photo, and papers.

In Astorga I hunted down a bank to get some more funds and then I joined my fellow pilgrims for some lunch and drinks. I checked out the palace and found it interesting, but not too strange. I was surprised as the Bishop thought it somewhat outlandish and refused to move in. There are three lovely angles overlooking the front of the palace that I thought were particularly nice. On our way out of the town we chanced upon a little church that isn’t mentioned in any of our guide books. Which is too bad, it has amazing mosaics depicting the Camino! Very nice work, but it doesn’t seem to get noticed.

I arrived in Murais de Rechivaldo a little after Keith. It is a nice small town and the albergue is on the far end of town right beside a long expanse of the meseta. I got my spot, did some laundry, had a shower, bandaged my feet, and then sat in the courtyard in the sun with Peter and Morag and a round of cerveza. It was actually a bit cool, but the company was good and the albergue itself was very atmospheric. Keith and I made a short trip to the local bar so he could call Alice. I kept time for him on the phone’s meter and enjoyed a tonica which he chatted with Alice. We eventually trotted back to the albergue to met up with Peter and Morag for supper. We walked over to a small local restaurant for a decent enough meal. We were in the dining room all by ourselves with the locals all in the adjoining lounge area. We sat down and the first thing the staff did was turn on the TV for us. We politely asked that he turn it off again. Finally, it was off to the albergue to some rest.

Soundscape -  More Birds

Had breakfast in the albergue, which was nice enough with plenty of toast and preserves, but the cafe con leche was barely average. Ah well.

I left Murais de Rechivaldo in the rain with Keith, Peter, and Morag.

Shortly after we left we caught up with Danny and Alice. I was feeling very good and I think I needed some time alone so I put on some speed and walked ahead. The rain was very nice in fact and the mist and rainfall hid the mountains in front of me. I stopped for a cafe con leche in Santa Catalina de Somoza. Keith, Peter and Morag decided to keep going so I enjoyed a little bit of decompression. I think the theft was still bothering me. I know I was missing the photo of Sandy, Kieran, Aleksander and Max. Near the end of my coffee Alex showed up and we shared the table for a while, enjoying the dry warm cafe. I then moved on and walked alone until I came to El Ganso where I caught up to Keith, Peter and Morag in a cowboy bar. It was a strange open-sided place, but the empanadas de atún was very good, as was the cafe con leche.

I walked with Keith for the rest of day. We met up with Danny, Peter, and Morag several times during the day as our paces ebbed and flowed along the trail. We had a light lunch in a cafe in Rabanal del Camino. Keith had himself a very large lunch as he noted that he seemed to be losing weight, and he is slender to start with.

We finally approached Foncebedon and we ended up in the worst of the three albergues in town. It looked okay at first but it had strange showers (with a toilet in it), it was always cold and yet humid, and the owner seemed a bit off. Danny luckily ended up in one of the Red Albergues and it was lovely, warm and inviting. Lucky Danny!

Foncebedon is a strange little town. Hardly anyone lives there anymore other than people supporting pilgrims, and many of them apparently do not live in Foncebedon itself. The whole place has a a feeling of abandonment. Alex, Keith and I went strolling through the tiny town and ended up at the old church that is the third albergue in town which is run by nuns and volunteers. One was kind enough to give us a tour of the tiny church.

Later we joined Peter and Morag for some wine in our albergue. The wine was not very good at all. Peter was kind enough to lend me the use of his cell phone and I gave Sandy a quick call. Every one kindly took a moment to say hello to her. Later we went out to stand by the highway overlying the valley and relaxed before supper. There is a courageous dog who insisted in sitting in the middle of the little highway, forcing traffic around it.

For dinner itself, I joined Keith, Alex, Peter, and Morag at La Taberna de Gaia. Danny joined us to sit and provide us with some extra company, but she didn’t dine as she had already eaten in her albergue. Too bad, as it was by far the best meal I had on the Camino so far! It is a medieval themed restaurant run by a family (father, mother, and daughter). Once through the front door you step down several steps into the dining room and sit in a wonderful warm room filled with handcrafted items. The food was simply wonderful.

We started with a vegetable soup that was rich and thick with zucchini, onions, walnuts, squash, and several things I couldn’t place. I had the best venison (with thick slices of ginger) I have ever tasted, served on a magnificent bed of saffron rice. The restaurant has a truly amazing food and atmosphere. Tea was an infusion of locally harvested herbs that was warming and very pleasing and was served with slices of chocolate. This easily made up for the albergue.

Soundscape – Cafe

Soundscape – Walking in the Rain

It was a very cold, 1-degree-Celsius morning in Foncebadon. The sky was stained a dark navy blue and it was raining lightly, while a thick fog flowed through the hills.

I joined Peter, Morag, and Keith for a morning coffee and then Keith and I waited outside and admired the hazy blue landscape. The sky moved onto a lighter shade of blue, but the mist and rain persisted. Foncebadon had a strange feel this morning, somewhat surreal. Peter and Morag joined us and we headed off. I was eager to get to the first stop of the day, the Cruz de Ferro. I have been carrying four small stones from home for Sandy, Kieran, Aleksander, and myself that I intended to lay at the cross.

The cross seemed to materialize out of the mist in the distance and I picked up my pace a bit. I did not expect that the act of placing the stones there with the scores of others would be such an emotional thing, but it was. I thought of my family; how much I missed them, how important they are to me, and how incredibly good they have been about me following my dream to Santiago and Finisterre. Their support is what keeps me going.

Keith and I walked on to Ernmita de Santiago. We took a short breather and then headed on to Manjarin. We encountered some cows along the way, gave them greetings, and took some pictures. We then came upon Thomas the Templar’s albergue. It was a riot of colour and knick-knacks – Sandy would have loved it. Thomas has coffee and biscuits available for Pilgrims and he sells templar t-shirts and stuff. I met Alex there and we chatted for a few minutes before I had to move on. There was also a cute little cat sneaking about.

Shortly after Manjarin, Keith and I came across Danny. She joined us and the three of us headed off to the some food at El Acebo. Keith was not feeling well and needed to get some food. We followed the path downhill into the wet road into El Acebo and found the café on the left. It was packed. The proprietors had everyone put their packs to one side in a huge pile. We were lucky to score a small table. We got our food – tortilla and café con leche – and rested our weary selves. Keith in particular looked haggard and he considered stopping in town for the day. Danny offered him some herbal pills that are much like having a Red Bull or two with extras. By this point Peter and Morag and arrived and we had found a larger table. I then had enough time for second café con leche! After a bit Keith decided that he would go on. Good news indeed!

We walked on to Riego de Ambros. Along the way, we encountered a very large flock of sheep and goats tended by a shepherd and a couple dogs. They were running all around us, it was kind of fun. We entered the town itself and stopped for some water in its tiny but pretty plaza. The entire town is pretty and it was like a storybook. I liked it.

The next section of the Camino is reputed to one of its most beautiful. I completely agree. Leaving Riego de Ambros we entered a wonderful, wooded narrow valley with some switch backs and lovely little quiet spots of shady green and brooks. The trail then leads through to the other side of the valley and started climbing slowly. On this section, the right side is a sea of wildflowers and the left offers a wonderful view of your day’s travel; a widened valley and the mountain range beyond. We searched the distance across the valley and spotted El Acebo, and the path leading back to Foncebadon.

At Molinesca, Keith, Danny, and I stopped for come cerveza and snacks. Keith chatted with some pilgrims at another table and we listened to 80′s rock and enjoyed the nice cool bar as it had warmed up outside. Peter and Morag joined us, and we moved outside to sit at the street tables, and a cat came for a visit.

We headed off to Ponferrada. The weather was warm and sunny. I guided Peter for a while to give Morag a break. Peter and I chatted as we walked through some lovely wine country. It was a pleasant afternoon. However, we were all tired by the time we arrived at Ponferrada. We crossed the busy bridge, and the sound of traffic was loud after the lovely quiet walk we had.

We waited in line to register ourselves and a volunteer worked through the line giving shoulder rubs to people that wanted them. There was also a volunteer tending to peoples’ feet. I found my bunk and was a bit alarmed; it was quite narrow and has no side on the top bunk. I wondered how I’d sleep tonight and if I’d fall the six feet to the concrete floor at some point. Oh, well. Wait and see.

I did some laundry and then sat on the shaded patio for while with a cerveza that I bought from the vending machine. Have I mentioned that I love Spain? I noticed the Embroider was sitting quietly stitching Ponferada on her sweater; I nodded and she quietly returned my smile with one of her own.

Finally, a group of us (Keith, Danny, Peter, Morag, Petra, Sarah, and Irwin and a couple of others whose names unfortunately have escaped me) went in search of the Templar fortress. However, there was only partial success; we found it but it was closed for the day. So, we walked around it in awe and then hunger grabbed us and we went in search of some food.

We followed the streets through a series of small plazas until we found a place that promised gourmet pizzas made on the spot (not like the frozen ones we had in Sahagun). The pizzas were very tasty and the wine was good. The one sad part was Sarah announced that she couldn’t continue and she was flying home the next morning. I felt very sad for her, but I hope that once she recovers she can come back and complete her Way.

I called Sandy and talked with the kids for a few moments as well.

Once we were back in the albergue I read for a while, tried to use the Internet (unsuccessfully), and after finishing this entry I hope to sleep without falling from my bunk. Good night.

Soundscape – Goats and Sheep

Soundscape – Walking in the Wind

I woke this morning amazed that I didn’t fall to the concrete below. Sleep didn’t come easy as I was really concerned that I would move more than a few inches and tumble down. The bunks really are narrow in Ponferrada. We dined on bread, cheese, chorizo, and fruit in the main hall. Out of curiosity, I rooted through the discarded clothes/equipment pile that you find in most albergues. I found a nice floral dress that seemed to spark the jester in Keith’s soul. Within minutes, he had the dress on, bringing smiles and laughs from the pilgrims in the room. Keith has a way of bringing a smile to people’s faces. He certainly brightened the room this morning.

After breakfast, we moved out into blue morning light of Ponferrada and worked our way through the streets. Along the way we came upon statues of the Pepper Women. The women are chopping and cleaning peppers, which I assume are popular in the area. I walked with Peter, Morag, Keith, and Danny. Along the way we stopped in Camponaraya long enough for some café con leche and tortilla or pastries. Shortly thereafter, we stopped again so I could get some throat lozenges to deal with the rough throat I woke with.

I started to lead Peter again. It was a little bit harder as in town you have to pay closer attention to obstacles such as branches, curbs, and thin walkways and parked cars. I enjoyed the walking with Peter though as he has a great sense of humour and he is simply an interesting person to chat with. We walked through a fair bit of vineyards and pleasant rolling hills. There were many poppies along the way as well as a huge amount of traffic on one of the dirt roads we were walking down.

We decided to stop in Cacabelos for a lunch and we all decided that hamburgessas were in order. It was a nice little café and the burgers were quite good. We all had a good laugh when Danny tried to add some ketchup to her burger, the cap popped off, and a huge mound of ketchup appeared on her burger, plate, and table. The woman who was running the café helped clean it up and supplied a new burger. I then adjourned to the street to tend to my feet, not something you want to do in a café. Morag joined me and we chatted a bit and enjoyed the soft sun that was shining down on us. We all had some ice cream and headed off. We discussed the fact that we were getting low on some pack food and that we were not sure if we would make Villafranca del Bierzo before the siesta.

So, Keith and I volunteered to pick up our pace and do the shopping for everyone. So off we set, just as the sun decided to burn hot. It was a stifling walk; there was little shade and a lot of dry open fields and hot roadways. We turned off the main Camino to follow and small side path that travels through a small village and through the hills instead of following the highway. We enjoyed the walk but were concerned that we may miss the shops. So we sped up a bit more and made Villafranca del Bierzo at about 1:30. Villafranca del Bierzo is a pretty town with several plazas and roads that run left and right and up and down. We found ourselves a Dios and quickly picked up our shopping list. We were beat at this point, my legs were wobbly, and my knees and toes were hurting. So we found a table at an outdoor café, removed shoes and socks to stretch our toes out, and had some large cerveza. I also ordered up some patatas and spicy cheese sauce. Heaven.

We waited about an hour. Finally, Keith decided that the others may be sitting in one of the other plazas; so I sat and waited on look-out while he went to retrace our steps. When he got back, he mentioned that he saw Petra. She said that she had left Ponferrada late and that she hadn’t seen Peter, Morag, or Danny. They must have gotten ahead of us at some point. So, we geared back up and set off for Pereje. It was another five klicks and to be honest we were still a bit tired, though somewhat revived by the food and drink. We followed the Camino, we crossed the pretty bridge that leads out from Villafranca del Bierzo, and walked at a good pace, hoping to get to the albergue as soon as possible. The road followed the highway the entire time, and although some of the terrain on the left was pretty, we didn’t really take much notice as we were fairly goal driven at this point.

Finally, the Camino swung off the highway a bit to run through the small village of Pereje. It was a 31 km day. Walking through this, quite literally, one street village that sits on the side of the highway we searched for the albergue. It was, of course, at the far end of town. Thankfully, that wasn’t too far.

We found the pretty albergue’s reception area empty but for a note on the table referring people to the café/bar to sign in. We went in search of a bed to throw our gear in front of. We ended up in the basement where we finally caught up with our companions just as they were deciding to come looking for us. Reunion time! So, we went through the normal catch-up chat while we all divided the food and unpacked for the night (I’ve lost another sock… Sandy will have to bring many clothes for me). I showered and then walked a couple of klicks down the highway looking for a phone as Pereje has no public phones or net access. I didn’t find one, but I enjoyed walking along the large creek that followed the highway. I even stopped to watch a fly angler for a few minutes. When I go back, I found that the others had headed off to the café patio that sits across the road from the café itself. Peter, Danny, and Keith were sitting having some cool cerveza and I joined them happily. After the first one, Morag showed up from her nap and I went in to buy the next round, and while I stood at the bar, I noticed high on a shell a bottle of Maker’s Mark bourbon. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I ordered up a glass. They staff had to get a chair to reach the bottle and they needed to dust it off before uncorking it. I happily went back to join my friends. Peter and Morag had never had a nice bourbon so I offered them a sip, which they seemed to enjoy. I certainly did.

We finally went in for supper, which was nice. Then we headed back to the albergue to wind down, write, administer some first aid to ourselves, and I called Sandy courtesy of Peter and his cell phone.

Tomorrow we will take a short day (only 22 km) as it’s all uphill. I’m looking forward to O Cebreiro tomorrow. Seven days to Santiago.

Soundscape – Café con lech por favor

I slept well last night but I woke up with a bit of a head cold. Thankfully, I was able to shake it off through the day.
We had a simple breakfast in the albergue that consisted of the standard fare: pan, chorizo, oranges, cream cheese, goat cheese, and juice. Then we slung our packs and merrily headed off into the street of Pereje in search of some café con leche. Shortly after leaving Pereje, the highway merged with another and we found a motor stop with diner. We settled down with some café con leche and packaged pastries. We chatted over the warm, slightly frothy cups and looked over the sale racks of old CDs and the guidebooks which were several years out of date. Just outside, we noticed a scale. Keith, and I decided to weight ourselves and found that Keith has lost a lot of weight and he noted that when Alice sees him she is going to kill him. He’s going to try to increase his calorie intake. I, on the other hand, haven’t lost anything. I console myself with the idea that muscle weights more than fat.

Keith and I headed out off at a common pace, which is somewhere between his normal pace and my normal pace. We came upon a nice little pilgrim’s statue of Santiago, so we sat for a few minutes, refilled our water, and took some pictures of the statue. We then continued along the Way which followed the road; which wasn’t too bad as the terrain on the side of the road was lush and green and we passed several babbling brooks. We also came upon an incredibly huge bridge that spans over a wide valley. It was so very, very high. Spain has gone through a boom in infrastructure due to EU equalization payments. Very impressive bridges, but I don’t think I would be very comfortable using one…

We made good time through the mist and the intermittent bouts of light, drizzly rain, and when we arrived at Las Herrerias we were feeling good. We stopped at a nice place that had a terrace overlooking the countryside. We sat on the terrace and had two infusión de menta each and we shared some Kit Kat bars. By the way, the Spanish seem to love Kit Kat bars, you will find them in almost every mercado, café, and bar. It was a very pleasant break and we stayed put a little longer than we normally would. We asked the café owner about the antique forge that was supposed to be in Las Herrerias. Unfortunately, it is apparently no longer in town. No one even seemed to know exactly what had happened to it. Oh well, no pictures for Pedro.

After the refreshments, we left Las Herrerias and started the steep climb to La Faba; which is a three-hundred metre elevation change in a relatively short four km. It was however, a lovely walk. We could have taken the alternative route that stays by the road, but Keith and I wanted to get back into the countryside. The path was a bit muddy in spots but it was pleasant and there were lots of bird calls and a happy, whistling Keith. Some areas were very rough going and we had to resort to handholds to get ourselves up in some spots. We also had to stop a few times to catch our breath. But it felt so very good.

We snaked our way up to La Faba where we stopped for a pop and some crisps and we met Mette and Chris. I gave Mette a big hug as I haven’t seen her in a while. I was pleased that she was still wearing my shell. They have been traveling together for a while now. Chris’ pace matches Mette’s pace and he has done the Camino before and she pointed out that he was a good guide. I think he mentioned that he is an Englishman living somewhere in Ireland. We sat with them and chatted a bit until it was time for them to head off. Keith and I had a second pop and the nice lady who was running the café was kind enough to fill our water bottles which we had used up quenching our thirst on the last four kilometers.

Shortly after we set out from La Faba, we encountered the Galicia marker stone. We celebrated with a whoop, a nip of water, and a photo opp. Finally, Keith and I set off on the last leg of the day to O Cebreiro.

O Cebreiro is a beautiful place of lovely stone buildings nestled on the top of a mountain. We did a little shopping in the gift shops; and we a bit surprised by the amount of Celtic symbols we found. It brought home that fact that the Galicians and the Irish share Celtics ancestors. Even the music playing in the shops sounded Irish to my ears. Our purchases done-a necklace for our wives-we moved into one of the restaurants to dry off and warm up. We were pretty wet by then, and we peeled off layers and hung our ponchos and fleeces to dry on a banister. We had some cerveza-what, you’re surprised?-and we shared some pan and pulpo. Ok, Keith had the pulpo and I just had a nibble, I’ll stick to the calamari from now on. We finished it off with some more infusión de menta.

Peter, Morag, and Danny showed up to our cheery greetings and we decided not to walk any further today and to stay here. We walked over to the albergue which is very nice; modern, nice kitchen, good showers, and a decent laundry. I did the group laundry, we lay back a bit and relaxed, and then we went on walkabout. We visited the Church of Santa Maria, which has a wonderful feel and some pretty architecture. We sat scattered in the pews quietly for a while. Then we gave wandered the church, took some pictures, and admired the reliquary. A miracle was supposed to have taken place at that church in the 14th century when a peasant braved a snowstorm to get to the church in order to hear mass. The priest criticized him for coming so far just for a little bread and wine. At which point the bread and wine literally turned into flesh and blood and the carved bust of Mary on the wall turned its head to view the miracle. I believe that Pope Innocent VIII confirmed the miracle in 1487. The remnants of the flesh and blood are housed in the reliquary. The reliquary itself was given to the church by Queen Isabella, I believe.

Finally, we set off for supper and we scored a nice table on the second floor of the restaurant in a windowed alcove that had a beautiful view of the valley below. The views from O Cebreiro are great. We had a few lovely shared family plates of pasta and lomo, lots of pan, and some lovely wine. Finally, tired and sated (have you noticed a pattern here…), it was time to bed.

Good night.

Soundscape – Stream and Birds
Soundscape – Whistling Keith

Michael called me today from O Cebreiro – he walked over and up the hills without a twinge to his knees. There’s very few phones or internet sources. The last couple calls have been made over his companions’ phones – their kindness is much appreciated.

He did mention this fabulous restaurant in Foncebedon. Here’s the URL:
www.latabernadegaia.com

Looks like he will make it to Santiago on May 27, and then take a bus to Finisterre the next day. He’s hoping that he can have a farewell dinner with friends afterwards. He should be in Madrid on the 30th to meet me at the airport or hotel!

We left O Cebreiro in the mist, lots of it. It was very difficult to see. But I have to admit, I like mist so I thought it was lovely evocative walk.

The long winding trails lead up and down following a cliff face. After a while, it lead Keith and I though a small forest and then a sharp right through the mist. Ahead, we could see other pilgrims like ghosts in the distance. The path then took a very steep left turn that took us out of the mist and gave us a great view of the terrain we had just walked past; vast, rolling Galician hillsides. It was beautiful. Thankfully, the steep climb was short and we came upon a highway that we would need to follow a while. There sits a very striking pilgrim statue where the trail meets the highway. Keith and I took some photos and then set off. I think Keith and I got confused once or twice regarding the route, but we figured it out in the end.

There seems to be a lot of slate in this region and we came across several slate outcrops on the side of the trail with water flowing down in very pleasing waterfalls. As we were getting close to Tricaste, we were walked through a shaded trail that literally overhung with green branches like a canopy, the climb down was a bit slippery and treacherous, but we knew we were close to food and rest so that raised our spirits considerably. We noted that Paco, a Spaniard that we have been seeing off and on for weeks, was ahead. He was giving a large piece of chorizo to another pilgrim who didn’t seem to speak Spanish but was obviously very thankful for the food, as he looked quite done in. Pilgrims take care of pilgrims.

At Tricaste we had lunch waited a while for Peter and Morag to show up. Tricaste is the where the Camino breaks into two possible routes to Sarria; the traditional northern route or the slightly longer Samos route. Finally, we decided that Keith would go on to Samos if for no other reason than to try to ensure beds for Peter, Morag, and myself. Danny was walking with Mette and Chris today as she is tired and didn’t expect to get as far as Samos, so we hope meet up with her in a day or so. So, Keith went ahead and I sat at an outdoor café waiting. A full hour went by with no sign of them, so I geared up and starting walking back the way I came. Thankfully, I didn’t have to go much farther than a kilometre or two when I met up with Peter and Morag. They, and a group of others, were turned around in the mist this morning and were taken a good bit off the Camino. They actually had to stop a car in order to get their location and figure out a route back to the Way.

I sat with them at the outdoor café while they ate. Both Peter and Morag where tired from the extra walking and from the stress of the day. So I left them to rest after a bit to get some shopping done as none of us had had a chance to pick up any foodstuffs for the trail or tomorrow’s breakfast. I found a place only a few blocks away that was surprisingly open during siesta. I even found some plums that I thought might be a nice pick-me-up along the way. We split up the food among our packs and then headed out of Tricaste. At the edge of town, we took the left turn to Samos and started a lovely sunny walk through some beautiful countryside. This is classic Galician countryside, rolling hills, lots of flowing brooks and waterfalls, and cows, a fair number of cows.

At one point, just after we had crossed bridge that covered a pretty, little stream, we took a right to follow a small road that inclined up the side of a little cliff. When we were about half way up we noticed a very large cow had turned the corner at the top of the rise and was walking towards us. These cows seem massive up close and their very wide horns are truly impressive, especially to Canadian Prairie boy like me who is used to seeming cows with much smaller head accoutrements. It wasn’t too bad until it started to actually slide down the wet slippery road on its hooves. It shuffled its feet to maintain balance, but a good portion of the way down it slide more than anything else. We gingerly moved to the side and pressed up to the cliff face. It was amusing to watch, that is until the rest of the herd turned the corner and we had about a dozen cows sliding down the road that we were on, Slip-sliding horned beasts seemed to be everywhere. Morag and I started to laugh, because really what else was there to do? Morag described the scene to Peter and he joined our chuckle.

We passed by a very picturesque little town that although looked lived in, no one seemed to be there. The little river that runs through town has a little diversion built in with a little waterfall. There was a group of sheep that sat near the falls that called to us in what I assume where demands for food. As well, the town was filled with collections of large stale slabs standing on end like CDs in a rack. They seemed to be everywhere; beside houses, shed, barns, and along the streets. I guess that some of the townspeople make slate roofs and walls, which not an uncommon method of roofing and fencing in Galicia. As I mentioned there is an abundance of slate here.

At the edge of town was a small community graveyard. We were impressed with the graves for such a small place. One might expect small little markers just to denote location, but no, the graves markers ranged from at least chest-high structures to large stone structures that obviously contained the remains. Quite possibly, they prefer stone internment to ground internment in such a wet region.

The route from that point to Samos was a lovely canopied trail of green light, rock walls, and expansive trees cover with patches of moss over everything. We sat for a rest and I presented the plums for a snack. They were cheerfully accepted and we ate them while Peter and Morag told stories of the food shopping in a Paris. It was a nice rest. We threw the pits into the forest and I wondered if the climate would allow them to sprout.

We turned the corner and suddenly we could see the Monastery of Samos before us. It began to rain. Then it began to rain hard. On top of that, my feet hurt from blisters and the wet shoes were not helping. I picked up my pace and followed the winding switchbacks that lead into Samos. I have to admit, the monastery looked fabulous in the rain, but I was so happy to check into the albergue; which is housed in the monastery itself.

We unpacked, found Keith, and settled into our bunks. I had a quick shower, set my stuff to hang, and went back into the rain looking for a phone to call Sandy. Along the way, I ended up in the monastery gift shop and found that the next tour would be at 5pm and that it only cost 3 euro. I went back, told Keith, and decided that yes, it would be a good idea to wake Peter and Morag to let them know. Then I went out into the rain yet again in search of a phone and some Internet. No internet today though, it is down and unavailable. Finally I found a phone and connected using an arcane phone card, I chatted a few moments with Sandy. It was so nice to hear her voice; talking with Sandy is one of the things that keep me going. I said hi to Max as well. Then I stopped into a café for a warming café con leche.

I booted it back to the monastery for the tour and we had a wonderful, Spanish only, tour of the monastery. Which was okay as the building holds its own without explanations. The murals were evocative and the chapel itself was quite ornate striking.

We then headed off to a chilling but satisfying dinner with some wonderful, warming soup and wine that just never seemed to run out. We chatted far-and-wide, about the Camino, faith, and life in general. After dinner, Keith called Alice and I called Sandy again. Then we all trundled off to bed.

Soundscape – Birds
Soundscape – Walking the Path in the Wind

Michael called yesterday to say there’s no internet. Apparently every town he’s been in for the last few stops, the internet has been down – karma’s so much fun…

He’s stayed at a medieval monastery – I could hear the bells pealing in the background – in a town called Samos. The monastery has been part of the Camino for a long time, and looks beautiful.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samos,_Galicia,_Spain

They are hoping to put in 30 or so km today and end up in Portomarin.

We are hoping to put in 30 or so km today and end up in Portomarin.

Today Keith, Morag, Peter, and I set out at bit late at 7 am. We stopped for café con leche and croissants and then started our walk to Sarria. As we were leaving Somos we came across a pilgrim statue. We lined ourselves up around it and a passing pilgrim took our photo for us. Morag and Peter noted that we only had five days to go. That was rather exciting news!

The first 12 km were fairly easy to walk, mostly just grey weather with a spot of rain now and then. Keith moved ahead and I fluctuated between walking on my own and walking with Peter and Morag.

Which reminded me of the time a few days earlier where I had been doggedly walking though grey wet weather, at the edge of a town that I don’t remember the name of, and I felt very much down and tired. Peter and Morag were walking not too far from me and they decided to sit and take a rest. I joined them and try shared some lovely confectionaries with me. It really brightened my day. By this point, it had been raining most of the day and I headed off again.

I arrived at a small town and stopped at the first café & bar after entering town. This has become the agreed upon spot of choice while walking. It gives us a chance to meet throughout the day if our paces are not too far apart.

Keith was waiting for at the counter, café con leche in hand. The café was nice and shiny; very modern compared to many places I’ve been in the past month. It was all glass, dark wood, and metal. It looked more like a place a broker would stop into for his siesta beer than a place for pilgrims. However, the café con leche was good. Peter and Morag arrived which gave me an opportunity to have a second café and a pastry. We relaxed a bit, used the facilities – ooo, automatic faucets – and generally warmed up.

In Sarria I stopped into a farmicia for some more painkillers. When I came back out into the street, I found the group talking to Anne! I had not seen Anne since Burgos and it was wonderful to chat, catch up and exchange hugs. By the time we hit Sarria we were in dire need of more coffee so we each drank another two café con leches. Helps you get through the day.

Along the inclining streets we followed in Sarria are a series of wonderful murals. I strongly suggest anyone along the trail take a few moments to look them over.

By the time we left Sarria my blisters were starting to become uncomfortable. They had previously healed and the skin hardened, but with the moisture in Galicia (it gets more rainfall than England), the calluses seem to have peeled off. I was back to fresh skin that was just ready to blister.

The last 22 km that afternoon (it was a 40km day) was in the rain, with mud up and down the Galician back roads and cow paths through numerous hamlets that do not even seem to have a name. At one point, the rain had caused an uphill trail to become a small river that was deeper than our ankles. That was a rush.

We all grouped to gather somewhere along the next part. Walking in the rain and keeping company as we passed the very lovely Galacian countryside. We were on the lookout for cakes in a specific café along today’s route. We were getting tired and it seemed like we had been walking a fair bit and, for me at least, the search for the cakes become a quest unto itself. I knew that the name of the town in question started with an M and that it had a Horreos by the café. We had thought we had reached it when we arrived at Mercado (strange name for a town I thought) and we entered the café had some warm drinks and eat some cake. Nope, it was not the place. The cakes were just barely okay. Oh well. Keith asked how much farther it was to Portomarin and the lady behind the counter said 16km. We were fairly sure she was wrong as we had all miscalculated the distance to Portomarin to be about 25km; so there was no way that after all this walking there was still 16km to go. Well, it turned out we were off on our calculations; it is 36 km from Samos to Portomarin. It was going to be a long day. As we sat there, the heavens opened up for a quick downpour. I waited for it to subside and then I went out to sit on the front bench to tend my feet.
Camino Tip: Do not bandage your feet in a café! I’ve seen it done and it isn’t pretty.

We once again hit the Camino and one we went. The rain came in light waves for the next 4 or 5 km and we finally came across the town of Morgade. There was a pretty, little café. Here we found our cakes! They were very good; I had two if memory serves me. We sat in the bluish light, sipped our café con leche, and suddenly the heavens opened up again. Keith noted that Morag must been in good with someone up high as we had by good fortune to have been inside during each of the heavy rains today. As we sat there amused by the thought, some soggy pilgrims came in and booked a room on the second floor of the café. The rain had gotten to them and they just wanted to be dry. I cannot blame them. The day was wet, rainy, and for us much longer than we had mentally prepared for, and I was a little envious of a dry warm room.

However, off we trudged. Keith and I picked up our pace a bit to stretch our legs and we shortly came across the 100km marker. Now we know that the Camino markers are notoriously inaccurate, but it was a marker and we very happy to have arrived there. We took some photos, with the kind help of fellow pilgrims, and we waited for Peter and Morag who arrive shortly thereafter. Another round of photos!

The rain started to fall again, but not as heavily. The countryside was wet and soaking and many little streams and creeks flowed here and there. We came upon a part of the trail that traveled directly up the side of a hill and the water in the areas was so abundant that it was pouring down the trail. The trail was a on a good 40 degree angle and the water still maintained a good 3-4 inch depth. We tried to use some rocks to keep out of the worst of it, but finally we all gave in a just sloughed up the hill, the water twirling about our ankles. What could we do? We laughed. Felt good too.

At this point Keith moved ahead of us, and I moved a bit ahead of Peter and Morag. I came across a group of women who were very concerned about how to get through a deep pool that was completely covering the trail without getting their shoes wet or dirty. I was a dumbfounded as they stood there and discussed the problem in their near pristine hiking runners… I excused myself to get though the knot of people and just walked through the pool. Feet can only get so wet.

We all met again shortly before Portomarin where we all stopped for a bit of rest. We could finally see the town sitting on the riverbank in the distance. We trudged onward, crossed the bridge to town, and then I stood there well and truly exhausted, my blisters on fire, and my knees aching; looking up a stone stairwell of several dozen steps I had to walk up. Sigh. Well, nothing for it, up we went.

We checked into a private albergue (one of the red albergues I think) as it has more resources. I unpacked, showered, did our laundry (the laundry room had a wonderful patio opening with a fantastic view of the river), exchanged some e-mail with Sandy, and relaxed for a while. We went to dinner at the neighbouring private albergue (I’ve never seen two private albergues right beside each other like this) and planned tomorrow. We should reach Santiago in 4 days and we have less than 100 km to go! I’m really very tired now.

Soundscape – Bells of Samos in the morning

I stayed at: Albergue Ferramenteiro.

A few notes about Spain.

Bathrooms in public places often do not have toilet paper, nor soap in the dispenser, nor towels (or the dryer does not work). The lights are on timers so they can turn off at inconvenient moments, and often there is no toilet seat ring, only a porcelain bowl. I have only encountered one old-style squatter, and that was in Leon.

All bars serve coffee, and all cafes serve beer and spirits. It is not uncommon to see public workers stopping in for one quick drink before or during work. I saw a police officer have a lunch time beers and three postal workers have a morning coffee and shot. This is normal.

People here are really very friendly and helpful. Especially with pilgrims. People will literally go way out of their way to help you here.

The food is amazing here – from the sandwiches to the daily or pilgrim menus - they are all good. Wine is usually very good and the wine you get with one of the meals is often very local. So much so that there are no labels on the bottles.

The walk today, although not spectacular visually was pleasant. After yesterday’s never-ending walk, the 25 km we did today was refreshing. We even made it to the albergue before the rain started! Bonus!

The walk itself leads through a series of small hamlets and villages, some as little as one km apart. I started with Keith, but his pace was too much for me; did I mention he was a 59-year-old Scot? The man can move and he easily maintains about 6-6.5 km per hour. So, I fell back.

At one point I found a little roadside café just 10 meters beyond a left turn on the trail. I decided that food would be worth the extra few metres and I set myself down with a café and chorizo bocadillo. The bread was very fresh and I sat on the wet, grey patio to watch pilgrims make the left turn. Peter and Morag walked by and waved, I toasted them with my café, and I sat back and rested. Finally, I went inside for some packaged tarts and I set off along the Camino.

About an hour down the trail, I caught up with Peter and Morag. Morag is fighting a bad cold so I shared the packaged tarts with them and guided Peter for about 5 km to give her a break. Which reminded me of the time a few days earlier where I had been doggedly walking though grey, wet weather, at the edge of a town that I don’t remember the name of, and I felt very much down and tired. Peter and Morag were walking not too far from me and they decided to sit and take a rest. I joined them and try shared some lovely confectionaries with me. It really brightened my day. The small little kindness can really make a day on the Camino. I hope the tarts were as welcome today. By this point, it had been raining most of the day and I headed off again.

Again, it was an easy walk and the conversation with Peter was as always good. Not too much pain and I handled it better Keith greeted us as we entered Palas de Rei and we checked into the albergue. We had made the albergue by 1:15. This left us with lots of time to claim beds, unpack, and prep for the next day.

We did some cleanup, internet, then went shopping with Keith and Peter while Morag rested some more.

First, we went to a small mercado just down the street. We picked up some chocolate, fruit, bread, meat, and cheese. We stopped in at a café that sits right across from the albergue. We had a cerveza, and then decided that it was too loud and left. We headed down the street and found a nice little family run café. It was warm and homey feeling. We had some more cerveza and ordered up what I think may have been the best calamari I’ve ever had. We dropped the supplies back in the albergue, chatted with Morag for a few moments, and then headed off to the internet cafe that was just only a building or two over from the albergue. We, surprisingly enough, had some more cerveza, chatted, and periodically watched Spanish television.

It occurs to me that people may interested to know what the average pilgrim’s day is like. This does not include the tourigrinos (who are a blight on the Camino and I will not mention now – perhaps in a later post).

At 5:45, wake up, try not to wake up any late sleepers, dress, pack, and wash up. Leave the albergue at about 6:30 and start walking. Pray that in the next 1 to 18 kilometres you will find an open cafe. In the meantime, eat any snacks you have left from the day before. Walk, walk, and walk, until your breakfast doesn’t do it for you anymore and find a cafe and have a bocadillo or a tortilla. Walk some more until you have covered the planned distance; hope to find an albergue with empty beds, collapse for a few minutes. Feeling refreshed, unpack, roll out your sleeping bag, shower, and rest. Perhaps investigate the village or town you are in and look for restaurants that have Pilgrim Menus. Go out for dinner with your companions and pray that you get back to the albergue before the doors are locked. Go to sleep and repeat. On Sundays, you need to have food purchased from the day before, as many places are closed.

Finally, we moved back to the alburgue. I booked my room for Santiago with Peter’s phone and then Peter booked rooms for Morag and himself.

We had a nice, if slow supper. The dinner conversation turned serious and we discussed the Camino and how it has impacted us. In general, I think we all agreed that in most ways it is too early to tell, but we all had some ideas about how we want to make changes to our lives. Peter pointed out that the sight of the Cathedral in Santiago will be a very different experience for those that walk. We’ll have to wait to see how it all pans out, but we all agreed that the Camino was a significant event in our lives. So with heavy thoughts we ordered a second bottle of wine and then headed back to the albergue for sleep.

God help me, I am confused and tired. Time for bed

Soundscape – Walking
Soundscape – Brook

While walking to Hontanas, I looked back to see a figure walking towards me wrapped from head to toe. The only thing showing were the eyes. It was a strange sight but I had walking to do of my own, so on I went.

I heard more about this woman as time went on and I spotted her occasionally in refugios. She appears to be in her early 20s, and she is slim, with fair skin, light coloured eyes and blonde hair. I’ve never heard her talk, but I have met others that have.

She always walks alone. In the evenings after everyone is unpacked, showered, done with their laundry, and are sitting around talking, she is still alone. She sits there and embroiders on her jacket the name of the town that she finished the day in, and the number of kilometers that she had walked that day. Today, she will have added her 90th town. She has been on the Camino for 90 days, walking from her front door in Belgium.

She is quiet, smiles when you greet her, and she walks. I do not know her story, the whys and hows of it all. But she is an amazing young woman, and she walks to Santiago de Compestela for reasons of her own. God speed to her.

Morag, Peter, Keith, and I had breakfast in the albergue hall as it is Sunday and most places are closed. Then we headed off and were out the door before 7 am.

The walking was fine, and mist once again clung to the fields. The sky was clear though and when the sun hit the fields you could see mist rise from the soil. I stopped in a beautiful little town in an albergue call Albergue Abrigadoiro that has a café in front. It had a nice little dog hanging around front that I played with for a few minutes before I went in for a café con leche.

I sat at the counter for my first coffee as the place was packed tight. It was very nice inside though; countryish and eclectic. Peter and Morag showed up as a room became available at a long table to we sat down to share some more café con leche and some food; very nice tortilla. Keith was by now several towns ahead of us. On the way out I played with the dog a little more before I set off again.

We made Melide in good time, just before 11:00 and we stopped at a Greek diner to have burgers for the protein and I added a Kit Kat for energy (BTW: Kit Kats are big in Spain). As we walked through the rest of the town we saw a bar with two huge cauldrons over fires with massive pulpo (octopus) in broth. Melide is famous for its pulpo, but 11:00 is a bit too early in my books. I searched for Lithium and was thwarted. I did find some, but the line up in the photo shop was just too long so I had to move on.

There was a street market happening and the streets were busy. I had to really look for the Camino shells and hope that I did not get lost. Luckily I didn’t make any wrong turns and I met up with Peter and Morag at the edge of town. On we went.

The afternoon walk felt a bit longer than it actually was, I think we were worried about getting a bed in the albergue and the rain clouds gathering… While taking a short break, Morag and Peter both noticed that their hiking shoes were now shot with holes and think that they will just last to Santiago.

I moved on as I was tired of walking and decided that the best way to make it stop was to get to Arzua. I made good time and I ended up getting here at about 2:00 pm. Keith had set us up at a Red Alburgue (sort of a federation of private, good quality albergues) and I settled in. I joined Keith for a beer while we waited for Peter and Morag.

We all washed up and lay about for a while. I started up some laundry,  e-mailed back and forth with Sandy for a little while, and then I decided I needed to hear her voice. So I took some more painkillers, tended my feet, and set off in search of a payphone. I headed down the street, which was rather like a downtown business area of a smaller town. Shortly another street veered of from the main street I was on, I followed this arm as it looked less business orientated and I thought it might contain some nice places to eat later. I came across a nice looking pizzeria/bar that looked promising. I headed back and found a phone along the way and gave Sandy a call. She made me laugh and I was feeling better.

I told the others about the restaurant and we headed out for dinner after the laundry was done. The pizza was really very good and we sampled some darker beers for a change of pace. The restaurant was amazingly smoky, which I’m getting used to but it was very much bothering my sore throat. So, after I ate and had some juice, I left some money with Morag to pay for my meal and I left them to wind down while I headed back to the albergue to rest. I found a small variety type of shop that sold batteries and I picked a up a few for my camera. The camera has been chewing through non-lithium batteries like they were nothing. It will need some repair when I get home.

I settled myself down in my sleeping bag to get rid of the chill of the cold and wet weather and listened to the small selection of songs I have on my little recorder. Once I was warmed up and rested up. I went in search of this computer.

This was the last longish day to Santiago. It was about 25 km. Tomorrow is only about 18 km and the day after is 20 km into the Santiago de Compestela. It is strange that it is getting so close, but I am looking forward to the closure and to seeing my family again.

I think I’ll go rest some more.

Soundscape – Rain Water Running
Soundscape – Birds in the Rain

I stayed at: Albergue Don Quijote