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Camino Frances

agosto - outubro 2019
  • The Big Adventure
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  • The Big AdventureViajanteCamino Frances

    It All Works out in the End

    29 de setembro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ ☁️ 79 °F

    San Martin del Camino, Spain
    For our last dinner in Leon I was hoping to have a great meal. One of the challenges of the Camino is Spanish dining habits. Lunches are large, served between 1-3 pm. Then everything closes and they roll up the sidewalks until 5. The people begin to surface about 5, when drinks flow freely accompanied by pinchos or bocadillos (fairly substantial appetizers). In small towns where the Camino is a primary industry, you can usually find a pilgrim dinner being served around 7 or 7:30 as most albergues lock the doors at 10. Any curfew violators are in a world of hurt, with no place to stay and no access to their stuff in the albergue. In the cities where pilgrims are a minor addition to the economy, finding dinner can be a challenge. Forget about early bird specials. No self respecting Spaniard would dare step foot in a restaurant before 9 pm. How do they do that? I decided not to leave things to chance, firing up the iPad and consulting TripAdvisor for dinner recommendations paying particular attention to serving hours. Found one place with outstanding reviews and service that began at 7. We made our way through the city and were on the doorstep at 7:45 pm. When I asked about dinner, the guy looked at me like I was crazy and said they didn't start service until 9 pm. Tomorrow's a long haul, so staying up late or skipping dinner weren't options. We headed back across the city, willing to settle for Burger King if necessary. Several blocks later we spied a door and sign indicating a dining room upstairs. No one in sight at ground level to ask, we trudged up the stairs. The place was deserted, but a gentleman was quietly setting up tables. When I asked what time dinner was served, he said how about now. Music to our ears! We settled in and chatted with him about regional specialties. He was very proud of the Leonese cuisine and talked us through the menu. He even brought us a sample of cecina, an aged, dried beef like none we'd ever had in the USA. It was bursting with flavor, slightly smoky, sweet and melted in your mouth. When the roasted lamb arrived, it was a "when Harry met Sally" moment. The owner was pleased with our appreciation, and we had the best meal of the Camino to date. In the morning we took off for San Martín del Camino, a long slog on a path paralleling the highway, broken only by stops in suburban Leon bedroom communities for coffee, juice and snacks. Those mountains are getting closer with every step.Leia mais

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    Ah, Love!

    30 de setembro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ 🌙 79 °F

    Astorga, Spain
    Last night at the albergue pilgrims dinner the subject turned to shoes. As you enter the facility there's a big closet with racks filled with an assortment of footwear. Pilgrims are expected to take off their hiking gear and deposit them on a shelf to avoid tracking dirt all over the place. Dick, from California, was lamenting his shoe experience on the Camino. His favorite hiking boots bit the dust shortly before his departure. He took them in for repair, but they were declared DOA. That put him in the position of embarking on the journey with untested foot companions. He started in new boots which gave him blisters, then switched to trail shoes. His feet were hurting, so plan C was sandals. Hopefully that works as he's running out of options. We are very pleased with our Hoka trail shoes which are serving us well. At this point they are rather dusty and the tread is showing signs of wear (after 350+ miles you would too). We're debating whether we should burn or bronze them when we get home. We started the day in darkness, on a path paralleling the road which meant we were listening to sounds of traffic while sucking in diesel fumes. Now wait, someone said this was supposed to be the prettiest part of the Camino. Scenery picked up as we crossed the Puente del Paso Honoroso, a 19 arch bridge from the 13th century made famous by a knight who had been rejected by the lady who was the object of his affections. He put an iron collar around his neck and conducted a jousting tournament for 2 weeks, taking on all comers. After defeating 300 contestants he removed the collar from his neck, declaring himself to be freed from the bondages of love. Good to know he finally moved on. We passed through Hospital de Orbigo, Villares de Orbigo and Santibanez de Valdeiglesias as the accompanying terrain turned to rolling hills. This is just a little warm up for the mountains looming in the distance. On the way into San Justo de la Vega near the Cross of Santo Toribio we could see Astorga in the distance as our first troubadour/ flamenco guitarist serenaded the pilgrims urging us onward. The music was nice, but the thought of chocolate, one of Astorga's claims to fame, is what kept us going. Just may have to substitute chocolate for arrival beverages.Leia mais

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    Old Home Week

    1 de outubro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ ☁️ 66 °F

    Rabanal del Camino, Spain
    Astorga, population 11k, is an interesting place and home to the strong mountain people known as Maragatos, who historically knew their way around mules and mountains, creating a transport hub for moving goods from coast to interior. The Maragato heritage is celebrated in the cuisine, as well as commerce, as transporting cacao beans from the New World led to processing it into chocolate long before Milton Hershey was even a twinkle in his grandmother's eye. Of course we had to stock up on chocolate for our journey, sampling the different varieties before making a selection. We headed to the town square for arrival beverages and to watch the famous city hall clock figures, a Maragato man and woman, strike the bell on the hour. On the way we ran into Sheila, an American from California, Des, our Irish friend, and a young Camino couple (Ottowa/Los Angeles) we've chatted with along the way. We finally made our way to the place advertising a pilgrims meal at a decent hour, and ran into Peter and Susie, our British friends. We managed to drag ourselves back to our lodging in time for curfew. We exited Astorga before dawn, bound for Rabanal del Camino. We've left the flat meseta behind and climbed steadily uphill into the mountains of the Leon region. Clay and straw building materials have given way to carefully fitted stone, almost a cross between a mosaic and jenga. We've seen sheep and cattle in the fields. Paths wind through small villages, fields and woods. Passing through Valdeviejas, Murias de Rechivaldo, Santa Catalina de Somoza, and El Ganso, we finally arrived in Rabanal del Camino for lunch. What a crazy day! First we stop off for coffee at a cowboy cantina in El Ganso, then it's a hot dog (?!) for lunch in Rabanal. We'll make an early night of it tonight as tomorrow's route takes us by Cruz de Ferro, followed by a deep descent into Molinseca.Leia mais

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    Cruz de Ferro

    2 de outubro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ ☁️ 72 °F

    Molinaseca, Spain
    We had a delightful dinner with 2 young ladies who are also on the Camino. Emma, 26, from British Columbia, Canada is on a break from school. When she returns, she'll be finishing up her degree in forestry. She's following in family footsteps, as both parents and her sister have done the Camino. Alex, 19, from Perth, Australia, was taking a break from work and school. When she finishes the Camino, she's heading to Portugal to work for a bit before heading to England. She plans to live, work, and study in England for about 2 years before returning home. Her field of studies is economics and international relations. She was very down to earth, had all her plans well researched, and was the most squared away 19 year old I've ever met. We finally called it a night as we're all heading out early. The sky was still dark when we left in the morning, only stopping in town for a quick café con leche. It's almost 8 kilometers to the Cruz de Ferro and we hope to be there early. It was a steady climb uphill and just when we thought we should be there, we entered the small town of Foncebadon, which we joked translated meant "fooled you, you still have a few kilometers to go". Sigh. Fortified by orange juice, we continued on. We finally made it to the Cruz de Ferro, an iron cross originally mounted on an oak tree, on Monte Irago with an altitude of 4,938 feet, the highest point on the Camino. Traditionally pilgrims leave a stone signifying a burden at the cross and say a prayer. The closest spot to the heavens guarantees the quickest transmission, I guess. Many things are not what they used to be, and this was no exception. The oak tree has been replaced by a telephone pole (direct line to heaven?) and even though there have already been over 300k pilgrims this year, the size of the stone pile was not commensurate with years’ worth of pilgrims. Determined not to get distracted by the disconnect, we carried on the tradition, leaving stones as well as a star from the US flag while we said prayers for family, friends and country. Two kilometers down the road we passed through Manjarin. While we jokingly refer to small places as a one-horse town, this was literally a one-person town. Manjarin is occupied by the last of the Knights Templar, who is dedicated to caring for pilgrims. Though the guidebooks said rustic with no electricity or running water, we did see solar panels and a wind generator out back, concessions to the times I suspect. The descent from the Cruz de Ferro was steep and rocky with large slabs of slate throughout. The numbers of rocks in the trail seemed directly proportional to the steepness of descent. If the rock had been snow, this would have been a triple black diamond ski slope with moguls worthy of an expert. We earned the billy goat badge by carefully picking our way downhill safely while young folks behind us jumped from rock to rock with amazing speed. We stopped for a quick lunch in Acebo before finally making it to Molinaseca for the night.Leia mais

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    Terminal Exhaustion

    3 de outubro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ ☁️ 72 °F

    Cacabelos, Spain
    Our dinner companion of the evening was Everett, a Dutch vocational school administrator. After a particularly grueling year involving a school merger, he took a 2 month sabbatical to walk the Camino. At age 60 he is in the final years of his career and contemplating a change. He enjoys team building and wants a chance to build something new. He is totally enamored with the Camino and hopes to use the time to think and figure it out. Interesting that he's the third school administrator/principal that we've met, though each from a different country. Still a bit tired from yesterday's workout, we chose to wait for breakfast at our lodging before hitting the road. Scrambled eggs never tasted so good! We actually left in daylight this morning and felt like we were walking by ourselves since we were well behind the familiar pilgrim morning rush hour. First town up was Ponferrada, a decent sized town located between 2 rivers. The Knights Templar made it one of their headquarters and put it on the map as far as the Camino is concerned. They built the Castillo de los Templarios, a 13th century castle worthy of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Too bad we have a long haul today, as it really would have been nice to do the tourist routine and go through it. Instead we settled for a fantastic café con leche and raisin bun stop before continuing on and finally exiting the city along the river. The route today was up and down hill, but nothing near as challenging as yesterday. Good thing as we are still exhausted from yesterday with stiff and sore calves. We passed a winery offering a wine tasting with pinchos for 1.50 euros, practically a steal by US standards, but didn't dare stop for fear we'd never start again. We finally practically crawled into Cacabelos, our destination, later this afternoon.Leia mais

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    New Friends

    4 de outubro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ ☁️ 72 °F

    Trabadelo, Spain
    Yesterday was a really low point and I kept wondering what were we doing? Felt as if we'd been sold a bill of goods and the Camino was a ruse foisted onto foreigners to keep small towns in Spain alive. After all, I read that Foncebadon had been an abandoned village inhabited only by wild dogs in the 1990's. Maybe we should be honoring our American heritage by walking the Oregon Trail. A chance happening totally turned my mental state around 180 degrees. When we stopped for arrival beverages in Cacabelos, a very nattily dressed older gentleman approached Mike and asked him if he spoke English. Turns out our new Spanish friend Jaime likes to come down to the café along the Camino for a glass of wine in hopes of practicing his English with pilgrims. He's done the Camino himself and enjoys sharing the camaraderie. When I asked about the beautiful lapel pin on his sports coat, he said he was a retired military man, a former Air Force pilot. He was delighted to learn of our military background as well. We knew we should be heading for lodging, but we lingered over a couple of drinks. When we finally said we had to leave, he said he'd be back that evening. As luck would have it, the only place we found for dinner at a reasonable hour last night was back in the same spot. Jaime returned midway through dinner, so we joined him on the terrace afterwards. He happily answered our questions about life in Spain and the dining habits. Turns out they eat their big meal at a late lunchtime, then finish off the evening with light fare. We'll have to try that when we're done walking the Camino and are hanging out as tourists. Jaime asked how I'd learned Spanish, so I spoke of growing up in Venezuela. Originally from Santiago, he lived in Argentina during his teenage years and retired to Cacabelos. It was amazing how much we had in common, discussing life in general. Hours earlier we met as strangers, we ended the evening as friends. Today's Camino took us over rolling hills through vineyards of the El Bierzo region, some fields of newly planted vines interspersed with older vineyards. Leaving Cacabelos at dawn, once again we were treated to a spectacular sunrise. We are getting hooked on beautiful sunrises, freshly squeezed orange juice, and café con leche. The El Bierzo soil is obviously very fertile. Vegetable gardens and orchards are tucked everywhere. The path was lined with chestnut trees loaded with nuts and fig trees laden with fruits, not to mention all the apple trees. Whereas the meseta was endless fields of grains uninterrupted by borders or variation, between the hills, fields and orchards, the El Bierzo provides a mélange of sights and sounds. We walked along a river most of the day, arriving in Trabadelo, a small lumber town, in time for lunch.Leia mais

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    Up the Mountain Again

    5 de outubro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ ☁️ 64 °F

    O Cebreiro, Spain
    Morning mist rose from the valley and descended from the mountains to create a surreal start to the day as the sky gradually lightened. According to a local, the mist will burn off early afternoon. While pretty to see, it's not good for the chestnuts as it burns the fruit and yields smaller nuts. We arrived in Herrerias in time for café con leche and a little exploring. Today's a special day. We are treating ourselves to an experience for well-heeled pilgrims of old and riding horses up the steep hill (third highest point on the Camino) to O Cebreiro. Think of it as a day of rest for our aching feet, though I suspect we'll have pain in other places tomorrow. Our fearless leader is Victor, the spitting image of Antonio Banderas' older brother and a former economist from Madrid who did the Camino years ago. At the time he asked about horses, but there were none. He has since chucked corporate life and has been leading trail rides from Herrerias to O Cebreiro for the last 6 years. Mike saddled up on a mare named Luna, while I drew Babieca, named for El Cid's trusty steed who I suspect was not a gelding. The ascent up the mountain was breathtakingly beautiful on a steep and rocky trail. The horses were slow and steady, picking footing carefully in many places. They've made the trip so many times, they know exactly where to go. Midway up we stopped to water the horses and give them a break as they are working hard. Two hours on horseback and we covered a little over 8 kilometers, which would have taken us at least 3 hours with the incline, not to mention the wear and tear on our bodies. We had time to check in, have arrival beverages, and find a laundry so we don't have to tote around clothes reeking of horse. After a quick lunch we explored the settlement, a collection of buildings and a church with a resident population of 30. O Cebreiro has multiple claims to fame, making it not only a Camino stop but also a tourist destination. It was established as a pilgrim refuge initially, and the Galician natives built sturdy round huts with thatch roofs called pallozas to withstand the harsh elements. A legend about a local priest celebrating mass during which the wine literally turned into blood and the bread became flesh, with claims that the holy grail is here, draws many. This was also home to a priest who regenerated contemporary interest in the Camino by going all over the route in the 1980's, spray painting yellow arrows to mark the way. We ended our day by attending mass with a pilgrim blessing in the little stone church, followed by heading up to a clearing on the hill to watch sunset.Leia mais

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    Coming Down the Mountain

    6 de outubro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ 🌙 66 °F

    Triacastela, Spain
    The mist that seemed so enchanting yesterday was not as welcome this morning. We left O Cebreiro in the dark wearing our headlamps and ponchos as the mist was steady, almost like a fine rain. We were glad we'd scouted out the trail the night before. We were an hour down the trail before the sky became light without any sort of sunrise delight we've come to know. Walking down the hill on wet, leaf covered paths was a tad dicey and we were thankful for our poles. Yesterday we thought we were at the third highest point on the Camino, as hyped in all the literature until the subject of Alto do Poio comes up. While O Cebreiro gets the credit, Alto do Poio is actually 30 feet higher. And of course we had to go down and then up. Leave no hill unclimbed must be the Camino motto. We made multiple stops, fortified by cake and coffee, as we walked through clouds up and down hill. When we finally began our descent down the mountain for real, it was a welcome change from our Cruz de Ferro experience. The path was wide and the descent gradual with spectacular scenery. At one point we were making our way through a little farming community whose road was under construction. As we debated turning versus going straight, a Mother Teresa lookalike beckoned us forward. Gotta love those little old Spanish ladies... they have a way of keeping you straight. She also had a plate in her hand with homemade crepes. She "gave" us one for a donation, and pleased with our generosity, offered to make more. We begged off and continued on. Sometimes you have to share the trail and today we encountered multiple herds of cattle on the move. The first time they were coming at us, so we quickly moved to a side to make sure we didn't get trampled. Then I had an awful thought. Please don't let any of those cows get the urge and lift a tail. Dodging cow pies on the trail is one thing. Not sure I'd ever get the smell out of our clothes if we ended up in the line of fire. Fortunately the herd passed without incident. The second time we encountered a herd, it was on the path in front and going the same way. Was a good time for a break to give them a chance to get to their destination. We made it to Tricastela by early afternoon.Leia mais

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    Homestretch

    7 de outubro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ 🌙 73 °F

    Sarria, Spain
    We make a point of scouting out the next day's route out of town the night before. It gave us the opportunity to check out an interesting ferriteria, an ancient smithy where pilgrims of old had their horses shod while they had a bite to eat, one stop shopping back in the day. It also made it easier to successfully navigate the turns and crossings of the Camino in the dark before it disappeared into the woods. Headlamps are great, but finding markings is still a challenge. Mike's guidebook said the trail would be flat, so he was rather skeptical about the elevation guide I had from the pilgrims office. The fact that Triacastela is in a valley should have been a clue. We spent most of the morning climbing uphill. Thank heavens we had a great breakfast to start. We were looking for our morning café con leche break when we passed through Fontearcuda and spied what looked like a pilgrim rest stop. Turned out to be a place to get your inner Zen on, but carrot juice with kumbaya is no substitute in our book for the high-test stuff. On to the next hamlet we went. This time a detour of 50 meters had promising signs, until we got to the turn off. At this point no coffee is worth going down a 50 meter flight of stairs which we would then have to climb back up. We pressed on and our efforts were rewarded by a roadside café with café con leche accompanied by a cookie and a beautiful view. The holdout was well worth it. We're walking through farm country, very picturesque with rich brown loamy soil, gardens of all sorts, and livestock grazing in green pastures. Our excitement for the day came on the outskirts of Furela, when we encountered a donkey roaming freely along the side of the road. Looked like he had broken free of his hobbles as he was dragging some sort of strap attached to a hoof. We informed a lady we saw in a nearby garden, but she didn't seem impressed. Perhaps he's a habitual offender. He was happily grazing, so on we went. By midday we made it to Sarria, our destination for the day. Sarria is officially 115.5 kilometers from Santiago, our ultimate goal. It is also the last place to join the Camino and still qualify for the Compostela, a graduation certificate of sorts. Evidently it is a popular place to begin and we expect to encounter a greater number of pilgrims from here on out. To us it represents the beginning of the end and we are on the homestretch. If we can just last 6 more days, we'll be in Santiago!Leia mais

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    We are officially two digit midgets!

    8 de outubro de 2019, Espanha ⋅ ☁️ 64 °F

    Portomarin, Spain
    When we scouted the route last night, the Camino took us right to a city staircase that could have been the inspiration for the stairway to heaven song. Ever resourceful, we found a gentler, kinder route that still involved some serious incline to connect with the Camino. After listening to our new Camino friends talk about their experiences with nuns, Mike has a new theory. He thinks that the route was laid out by the nuns of old, to give those pesky pilgrims ample opportunities for penance. Once outside the city we walked through an enchanted forest with moss covered rock walls lining the path, massive ancient chestnut and oak trees as well as the occasional babbling brook. Disappointed that the dim light meant the camera couldn't do it justice, we tried to engrave it in our memories. Even the sounds of the forest are magical. Speaking of sound, we have grown quite accustomed to the quiet footsteps on the path accompanied by sounds of nature and the land, punctuated by the occasional "hola" and "Buen Camino". We were warned that the peace and quiet would go by the wayside once we got to Sarria. Even so, we weren't quite prepared for the "John Wayne rounding up his posse to go get us some Camino" scenario we encountered at breakfast. We downed breakfast as quickly as we could and hit the trail, hoping to stay ahead of the crowd. We skipped over the first hamlet offering coffee and pressed on to Morgade. We ran into Everett, our Dutch friend, who was having a low spell dealing with shin splints and not sure if he would be able to finish the Camino. After exchanging shin splints tips, we added a pep talk geared towards the school administrator that he is. At this point we are within a week of graduating. Even if we have to crawl on our hands and knees to Santiago, we will make it. He laughed, point well taken. Just past Morgade we went by the 100 kilometers to Santiago marker. That makes it official, we are now 2 digit midgets! Since we entered the Galician region, we noticed a change in the markers. All the others gave distance in kilometers, maybe including one decimal point. The Galician markers spell it out in meters. Guess the message is that as we enter the homestretch, we should savor every meter. We finally made it to Portomarin ahead of the projected rain. Good thing too, as the descent to the river before the city was through a long, steep and rocky ravine, payback for having skipped those steps in Sarria no doubt. We crossed a modern bridge into Portomarin, then climbed a few more staircases up to town. Portomarin has been relocated from its original location on the river. Back in the 50-60's, Franco built a dam to create the Belesar reservoir and hydroelectric plant. The original town was soon submerged, so the townspeople disassembled the church and historic buildings, brought them uphill stone by stone, and reassembled them. You have to admire that dedication to preserving history.Leia mais

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