Barjamayor

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.Read more