Pinos Puente to Moclin 19km

I got up after a surprisingly good sleep, surprising because the guy in the room next door was on the phone for hours, and the walls were so thin, not only could I hear him talking but also the person he was talking to!

When I got up I was glad to see that the socks I had washed yesterday were now dry, and so after finalising our packing, Ken and I went downstairs to the restaurant to hand in our key. Since it was a relatively short walk of 15km we decided to treat ourselves to a cooked breakfast , it was a nice change from a piece of fruit.

The walk from Pinos Puente was uneventful but quite pleasant. Initially we were on the main road for the first few km before the path veered off into the countryside. It was fairly level ground for most of the way. Since we had a very steep climb, I think the steepest on this camino, we had decided that we would stop at the village of Olivares (11km) for a decent break and a second breakfast before attempting the climb up to Moclin.

Ken had been quite anxious about the climb. Just a year earlier he had been seriously ill, like death's door ill, and had gone through a major operation. The camino was a real test of his recovery, and he had been doing very well, but found the steep ascents challenging. I reminded him of Psalm 121 - I look to the hills, where does my help come from, it comes from the Lord the maker of heaven and earth. I reminded him how on a previous camino I too had been anxious, but the words of that psalm helped me to trust in God rather than trust my anxiety. Each time I needed help, God brought someone along who was an expert in the area in which I needed help. I was sure that God would not only go with us but go before us, and that with his help we would find a way up this incredibly steep mountain. To be honest I was reminding myself as much as I was telling Ken, I was a bit anxious about that climb as well

Our normal practice was to stop at the first cafe, and the first cafe in Olivares happened to be right at the entrance of the village, but it looked a bit dodgy, so we walked on as there were, unbelievably, three other cafes in the village. Within 10 minutes we had returned to the first cafe because all three other cafes were closed that day. So, we sat at a table outside, placed our order and, looking at the mountain ahead of us we contemplated our life choices. Just then, a Spanish guy ( we found out his name was José), came out of the cafe and over to our table. We had seen him in the albergue and so we knew that he was walking the camino. He spoke almost no English but asked us if we were going to Moclin, to which we said yes, he then made a gesture indicating the incredible steepness of the climb and how difficult it would be. I thought, o great, I was trying to calm Ken's anxiety and this guy has just made it worse.

However, he leaned closer and said, "there is another way." In the ensuing half Spanish, half English conversation, we learned that there was a local camino, the Ruta de Gollizno, that went around the mountain rather than straight up. It was apparently a beautiful walk, and whilst it was a little bit longer, it was not as steep. Ken and I agreed that we would go that way if we could find it. José went back to the bar and returned a few minutes later with a pen and piece of paper and he drew us a map.

After our 2nd breakfast we set off to find it. We reached the point where the tarmac road literally came to an end and then encountered a problem. The map José had drawn showed two paths but there were three in front of us. Just then, a car pulled up, and the driver put down his window and asked if we needed help. We said we were looking for the Ruta de Gollizno, and he pointed to the right and said that's it there.

Coincidence? We didn't think so either. To me it was yet another confirmation of God's watchful care for us on our journey, and a reminder that our anxieties often come to nothing and only serve to rob us of the joy of the journey in that moment.

We set of in the direction he had indicated and it turned out to be a lovely walk, on an undulating path with lots of wildflowers, and a river crossing after which the path noticeably started going uphill, but not too steeply. It did eventually begin to get a bit steep but there were steps and a handrail. Just as I was wondering how steep it was going to get and how difficult it would become, we encountered a large group of elderly people out for a stroll, and I thought that maybe it wasn't going to be that hard after all. We had to cross another river via a suspension bridge, and the further on the bridge you went, the more it swung from side to side, but we made it. We then encountered another group of elderly people out for a stroll. Ken asked one couple if it was far to Moclin, in exactly the same instant, she said yes and he said no. As it turned out we were only about another 3km away from the town, though I must say the last 1.5km was the longest and hardest 1.5km that I have ever walked, but we made it. The views were tremendous, and we got to the albergue without either of us having a heart attack. José was already there and he told us the hospitalero would be along later to book us in. He also informed us that the only shop would be closed at 1300, and so we dropped off our backpacks and went to get supplies for the next day.

The albergue was very nice but the hospitalera was a bit shirty with us, apparently we were supposed to phone when we arrived, but we didn't know that. The room was nice, 18€ each, the showers were decent enough except that the shower head hook was broken - a black mark in my book. We got our washing done in the sink asap and hung it out on the wash line in the garden. We went to the bar and had an excellent dinner and by the time we returned to the albergue, most of our washing was dry.

We had no trouble getting to sleep, though I woke up cold in the night, the temperature had dropped but then we are quite high up.Read more