Riano to Valdore

We woke up early to the sunrise on the reservoir through our window. Neither of us felt like getting out of our shells, but this would be a long, hot day, so we pushed forward. Our first option after crossing the long bridge was to walk along the highway or take an alternative route that went up over the mountain pass. It wasn’t really an option. Though it would take us longer, we took the right-hand turn that led us into an enchanted pine forest. I made sure Bonnie was also seeing the faces in the trees, and I wasn't imagining them.

At the top of the high pass, I heard some rustling. I knew we had a rancher’s gate to pass through, and we had been spotting cattle and hearing their bells. I expected a bull, but instead, we met a Portuguese Pilgrim! Jose is also doing the Lebaniego and Vadiniense Caminos, but in reverse. He started in Leon and will walk up to the Norte and then come down the Primitivo from Oviedo (which Bonnie and I did last year). We had a nice time chatting and promised that we would look for each other in Santiago, as we may be finishing around the same time despite our clockwise and his counter-clockwise path.

Once the variant was over, we were forced back onto the highway until we hit the reservoir. At that point, we traveled through a long tunnel that then diverted down to a path on the east side of the river, which included sections of an old Roman Road. We found ruts that had been cut into the stone to make it easier for the Roman carts and wagons. While this route has not been very well marked and Bonnie and I decided it should not be a pilgrim's first Camino, we are so happy we are on this adventure.

Though we tried to shop for breakfast the night before, we didn’t come up with anything other than juice and pastries. It simply wasn’t enough fuel. We stopped for a snack break after getting through the tunnel, but Snickers’ satisfaction is temporary at best. The one bar/cafe that we counted on being open wasn’t. We could either wait a half hour or push on. Since we felt we were racing the heat, we kept moving.

By the time we had walked five hours, we were spent. Bonnie said, “Dad, do you know what I am going to tell people when they ask me about going on the Camino with my dad?”

“No. What?”

“Well, if it was based on this moment, I would tell them it was child abuse.”

Thankfully, the next town had a restaurant. It appeared to be open. We prayed they were serving lunch.

We greeted the bartender when we entered and put our backpacks and poles in the corner before collapsing at a table.

“Dos café con leche, y dos agua con gas, por favor,” I requested, ordering our first two coffees and chasers for the day.

“Sí.”

Then I asked him if we could have a menu and motioned with my hand to my mouth that we would like to eat. He spent the next three minutes telling me a story in Spanish, while gesturing back to the kitchen, that I didn’t understand, but it didn't sound promising.

All I could think to reply was, “Feed me, Seymour.”

He stopped talking and left the bar. I assumed it was to call the policia. Instead, he returned with our coffees, our waters, and a few minutes later both Bonnie and I were staring at full plates of steak, eggs, and fries. This Camino Angel even handed us a salt shaker! We devoured the food like we had marched on an overgrown Roman Road all morning. We sopped up the remaining eggs and grease with the basket of bread he also brought to the table.

We sighed in contentment.

He smiled in satisfaction.

We were refueled for the last stretch of the walk through the historic forest. We stopped to take pictures of poems that have been left on the trail so we could translate them later in our room. Poetry belongs in forests. I would like to see more of this trend.

This was a long stage today, actually one and a third. Tomorrow morning, we will walk 11 KM to a larger town where we have already identified a cafe and a grocery store where we can have breakfast and stock up for lunch. After that, we have another full stage to walk, about 20 KM.

Unfortunately, the hospitality we experienced at lunch isn’t always to be found on the Camino. When we arrived at the mid-stage, roadside hotel/restaurant where we would end our day, one of the ladies behind the bar told us, “No. No,” and went to get another woman. When she arrived, she told us the bad news.

“Completo.”

Which means full capacity. No rooms in the inn.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

“But I have a reservation.”

This stopped her in her tracks.

“Oh… What name?”

She found our reservation in her book and reluctantly pushed a key to us.

There are 22 rooms here. It is almost 7:00 pm. We appear to be some of the only guests. It isn’t that there wasn’t room; there just wasn’t room for us. If we weren’t so tired and it wasn’t so hot, we might have pushed on to Cistierna. We are happy we used Booking.com to make reservations and didn’t have to specify that we were smelly pilgrims.

I’ve learned a lot about hospitality on the Camino. Thankfully, most of it has been really positive. It makes me want to be a better person, one who will take care of the tired and hungry.

Ultreia et Suseia!Read more