Day 6 B, 28th April, O'Cebreiro - Samos

Welcome back!

Well, today I actually start at Pedrafita, at the bottom of the mountain cause that's where the Madrid bus leaves me at 6 AM. It´s 4 KM to the top of the mountain and it's pitch dark but dry and cool. I start walking and it feels great. Not much sleep because I had to sit at just behind the driver, could not stretch my legs and had headlights in my eyes.

At the top of the hill it started to snow, typical, and a reminder of the lat time I was up this way. It eventually turned to normal day as the "sun" came up and it kept raining for the rest of the day. OK, it did stop occasionally but just enough to lull you into a false sense of security, remove your clothes and start singing. The it came down again unexpectedly and off you went again, cursing Galicia.

I had planned to take it easy on my first day so as to save my strength and last the 151 km to Santiago. I had a lighter pack , a lighter sleeping bag than last time and had packed more carefully. Still, it seemed heavy enough and there was a long way to go, up and down hill.

Not long after heading out of O´Cebreiro I took a wrong turn or, more accurately, did not notice the small arrow pointing to a slight but crucial change of direction up what looked like a goat track. I had walked about three kms before a local farmer stopped me and pointed out my mistake, Fortunately for me, he gave me a lift back up the hill. I felt a bit better when I saw several other people going the wrong way as well. It seemed that this was a frequent occurrence and that many people did, indeed, get lost. As it happened, this was to be a regular occurrence in Galicia where the interest in Pilgrims seems to be somewhat lacking. You´ll hear more about this as the days go on.

Ok, so there I was walking in the rain, not really seeing very much because it was not just a drizzle coming down but a regular, very regular, downpour. There was nothing to do but keep the head down and keep going. The scenery was lovely and you might just get an idea from the photos. Otherwise think of Ireland or even Scotland with the mist and the rain.

Finally, I got to the monastery at Samos. By then it had stopped raining and I waddled in tired and sore. This is one hell of a monastery! Massive! The Pilgrim's hostel was actually a room in the monastery, on the ground floor, fortunately, and supplied a bed and hot showers. It was run by an elderly Austrian lady who was very mothering and was concerned about my poor feet and the pain in the back of my knees. This was unexpected but then I had just walked nearly 40 kms up and down hills and mountains. Fortunately I had some of Mariluz's tortilla to keep me going.

After a shower and a little siesta I wandered around to find a pharmacy thinking that this is not a good way to stat a long trek and that there were another four days and about 120 kms to go. I was given some Voltaren (diclofenaco sodico, if you must know) and I also took some Ibuprofen for good measure. It did help but eventually played havoc with my guts and I stopped taking the tablets.

Later that evening we, the pilgrims, were treated to a tour of the monastery and at 7.20 pm we attended Vespers, hearing the monks sing beautifully. Together with my foot washing experience in Rabanal del Camino this added up to more religious experiences in a few weeks than I´d had in a long time. Dinner was taken across the road and I will not bother you with the details. Afterwards it was straight to bed and lights out at 10.30.

Day 6 A, Monday 25th April

Today was going to be the last day for me.

I was heading down the hill to Piedrafita in order to catch the bus back to Madrid. THe good night´s sleep had done wonders for me and if not exactly firing on all cylinders I was well enough to enjoy the day and to look forward to new adventures. It had kept snowing during the night and everything was white and the sky relentlessly gray. We found a bar for our coffee, ColaCao as usual for Monica, and good toasted peasant bread for sustenance.

They headed thataway and I headed my way after taking a few pictures to commemorate our separation. The journey downhill went smoothly and only took around forty five minutes. While having a coffee I asked about a bus to Ponferrada and was told one was leaving in a few minutes. Not wanting to spend six hours cooped up in a bar in a small town while a snow storm raged outside I jumped on it and we headed off in a minibus to the sounds of flamenco and galician folk songs, some of which sounded remarkably like Hawaiian eukalely music. As it turned out, after the initial fifteen minutes of skirting the highway we followed pretty much the same route we had trekked through the day before. It was a bit strange to watch all those miles pass by so wuickly, so smoothly.



At two thirty I got on my bus, yes the same one I would have taken from Piedrafita, and headed back to Madrid. I had about six hours ahead of me and I managed to survive the trip.

It was time to go back to work but I had caught the bug and had decided to return to Piedrafita and hike the four kms up to O'Cebreiro and from there continue the journey to Santiago de Compostela.

Day 5 - Easter Sunday, March 24th,

The day started well. The morning was crisp and sunny and augured well.

We all got up and got ready, heading out at about 8 AM. The idea was to stop at a bar for breakfast but, as it happened, no one else had bothered getting up that early and we had to head out without a hot drink or a fresh pastry. Oh, the life of a Pilgrim!

During the night it had snowed and there was a lovely coat of white on roofs and hillside. I had wished for snow at the start of the trip because I preferred it to rain. I had forgotten the old saying that goes something like: "careful what you wish for cause you might just get it". But that´s further down the line and off we went, leaving behind Sonia and Gonzalo and even Christine, who was spending the morning in the beautiful town before heading back to Madrid.

As with previous days, we separated as the miles passed by, some of us walking faster than others and walking along with our own thoughts. Unfortunately, most of the path followed the road and it ws not very interesting. An occasional detour into a charming little village provided a break in the scenery.

About ten kms further along Monica and Petrie caught up with me after I detoured into another village. We stopped for a late breakfast and then we headed off again, concerned about the gathering clouds and the villagers´comments regarding snow at the top of the mountain, the pass. I had been carrying a pretty heavy pack because I had brought extra things to wear (I expected a night out!) and heavier things than I needed. It seemed heavy but it did not bother me unduly or slow me down much at all. At the breakfast stop Petrie suggested wighing the damn thing and, foolisly, I followed her advice. It turned out I was carrying 13 kgs. All of a sudden it just seemed much too heavy and I lost my momentum. I was still ahead of the girls but not quite as much and my progress was slow and a bit laboured.

The miles went past and the scenery changed. I was heading up the hill and into the mountains that divede Leon from Galicia. It started to rain, then some light snow and the wind picked up. When I reached Herreira I was already at the snow line (lower this past week than much of the winter) and the scenery started taking on a lonely and forlorn air. No one passed me and I saw few cars. After passing another village I was on my own. No more cars or people to be seen. Very little visibility and more snow and wind plus a much steeper incline to add to my woes. In addition, that pack seemed to be getting heavier and heavier.

From then on it became a battle of wills. I was reluctant to risk being stuck below the summit because I didn't know how long it would take me to get down to the village where I had to catch my bus back to Madrid, and work, the following day. Each step seemed more difficult, my breathing got more ragged and I was not sure I could make it. There was no sign telling me how much further to the next village and no sign of life anywhere. I had passed La Fava and was heading to Laguna de Castilla, aboout 2.5 kms away. Those two and a half thousand metres of uphill torture seemed longer than I expected and my rest stop seemed ever further away.

Its at times like these that we draw on our hidden reserves, our hidden strengths. I sang songs like Waltzing Matilda, both the anthem and the Eric Bogle version, as well as other such national anthems and stirring tunes. Bellowing them out to the wilderness seemed to give me strength and kept me going. Another thing that helped was the fact that the poncho was pulled tight around my face and therefore I could concentrate on putting pne foot in front of the other, on step at the time. I also remembered one of the lines from "Galaxy Quest", a silly movie, a send up of the Space movies, . Repeating "Never Give up, Never Surrender" in the vein of Alan Rickman and the rest provided comic relief and inspiration in equal amounts.

I finally got to the village and found a welcoming inn, a resting place for my soaked and weary body. There was a fire in the grate, the smell of food and no one else to get in the way. I changed out of my wet clothes and spread out my things to dry. Unfortunately, I found I could not eat much at all and all I could manage to drink was the Aquarius that I hoped would restore the chemical balance of my inner liquids. Later I also managed a strong black coffee with a shot of orujo (the local aguardiente) that the owner insisted on adding in order to give me strength.

It was about then that we saw some shadows passing the fogged up windows and we raced outside to see who they were. It was two of the other travelers, two ladies from Murcia, who assured me that Monica and Ptrie were just behind them. Indeed they were. How happy I was to see them! They had a drink as well and off we headed into the whiteness. There was another forty minutes or so to go, as it turned out. We got to the top and could see nothing but some ghostly posts that gave no real indication of a track. We tried to keep to the middle of the vague suggestion of a road that some of the poles indicated. All of a sudden we heard the muffled sound of a powerful engine and some lights made faint by the blizzard. It was a great big snow plow that came to clear the road and show us the way to salvation.

All of a sudden we were thrown into a Christmas landscape. Sleighs and brightly coloured beanies, children screaming with pleasure and a adults grinning sheepishly because they did not want to seem to be enjoying themselves to much. What a change, what a difference a few feet made. We had reached our goal, we had walked about 30 kilometers, probably the hardest ones I could remember. We walked through the village admiring that winter wonderland that just a short time earlier had seemed so inhospitable and even disturbing. The hostel was big and new, it had heating and very hot showers with strong water pressure. Paradise!

After a shower and a rest we headed out to explore and to find a place for dinner. The cold I had been fending off for two days had finally caught up with me and I could not eat anything or even drink a glass of wine. I was really knackered but the girls were bearing up well in spite of the pains and bruises. I took some tablets and fell asleep rather early, hoping to recover for the morning's trek to the bus about four kms down the hill.

Day 4

Saturday Separations

During yesterday´s walk a few blisters appeared on several feet. Christine was done in by the stones, rocks and the gradient of the walk. Her shoes could not take it and her feet were sore. Sonia broke a nail that turned a nasty blue-red and looked infected and Gonzalo showed off a great big beauty under his foot. So all three retired and took the bus to Ponferrada and then on to Villafranca del Bierzo. Kim was going back to Madrid anyway so there were only Monica, Petrie and I on this leg (so to speak) of the trek.

Confession time. Today we carried our backpacks! On previous days we and other backpackers paid for our heavy packs to be taxied to our stopping place and delivered to the hostel. The fee came to about 5 € each time and was well worth it. Monica insisted on carrying her pack every day and was an inspiration to us all.

The day started miserably with rain and a cold wind. On the bright side was the fact that the walk was mainly downhill so for myself and Petrie the weight of the pack was not as great as it could have been. In Ponferrada we went to the bus station so that I could endorse my ticket from Villafranca back to Madrid over to Sonia and then we headed out of town. Ponferrada is a city that has a long history. The Romans had been here as well and the Templars and other Knights as well. There is a big castle, a cathedral and lots of other stuff to see. Well worth a visit and the food and wine of the Bierzo region are excellent.

After about an hour´s walk the girls had fallen behind and I was left to walk with only my thoughts for company. Not a bad thing, really and being cocooned in your rainproof poncho limits your field of view so that there is only you and the path for most of the way. Passing through small villages of varying beauty is interesting and pleasing to the eye as well as useful for the resting and refueling places they provide the weary traveler. The walk through the vineyards of the Bierzo is bucolic and the weather cleared enough for me to enjoy the scenery and take a few snaps. I was eventually glad to arrive at our stopping place, the Town Hall´s Pilgrim´s Rest just outside Villafranca del Bierzo. Unfortunately, I had already settled in and had a shower before I realized there was no heating in that place and that the forecast was not very pleasant at all. Still, it was comfortable, there was plenty of hot water and blankets galore.

When the ladies arrived about 40 minutes later we went into town to explore and to snap away. You can see the results on the side. The Sevilla restaurant was recommended and it turned out to be a good choice because the house wine was good and the food great value. Unfortunately, like in most Spanish restaurants, it was not hot. Generally speaking, if you want hot food it´s better to tell the,. Also, what I tend to do is to order just the first course and then the second when I´ve finished it. This way they cannot prepare both meals and leave the second to await your pleasure. It pisses off the kitchen but you do get a hotter steak or whatever.

This town is beautiful. Lots of narrow cobbled streets and alleys, pitched roofs and hills all around. Not sure whether the Romans made it out here but I wouldn't be surprised. ´The church is great and they were getting ready for a procession so we got to see all the carved figures sitting around waiting to be taken along the procession. Back at the hostal, we sat around for a while and then went to bed because the next day was going to be very difficult. As it turned out, we were not cold during the night and everyone slept soundly.

Day 3

On to Molina Seca.

We knew this day would be more difficult but the sunshine and the fresh temperature made the going easier. Off we headed, all together, and soon were separated by speed and stamina. The need for proper footwear soon became evident and Christine fell back. One of the things the Camino teaches you is that everyone travels at their own speed, hanging back with a friend or new encounter, forging ahead or just taking in the view. You will eventually catch up with your companions at the end of the day and that is the perfect time to share your stories.

The Camino is, after all, a reflection of life itself. You have to be yourself, do your thing and move at your own speed. If you try to keep up with someone faster and fitter you´ll soon wear yourself out. If you try to slow down enough to keep up with a slower companion you´ll eventually get tired and you will not enjoy yourself. Some might say that it is selfish to think of yourself but I disagree. The word "selfish" has been given a bad run and I think we are all selfish to a certain degree. In fact, I´ll go as far as to say that anyone who says they are "only doing it for your own good" are the most selfish of all, together with those who help you because they expect something in return, eventually. This does not mean just looking out for number one but it does mean that if you want to help you should do it for the sake of helping and not for any other reason.

OK, back to the Camino. This is a very interesting section and one that is worth doing even if you only have a few days. The uphill and down dale sections are beautiful and you you can really commune with nature. There are a couple of lovely villages and sharing the walk with a few people is a great experience. Eventually you come over a ridge and see, way downhill, a village and the church spire. That is Molina Seca, an ancient village that even the Romans used as a rest stop. I was here last year for an intensive English course, using Shakespeare as a base. We had a great time and I got a taste of the Camino when I noticed the pilgrims walking past the luxury hotel we were staying at. I even went for a long walk along the path and decided that, one day, I would walk through this town on the way to Santiago. Little did I know that only eight months later I would be doing just that. Life is certainly full of surprises.

Kim and I were the first to reach the village and we grabbed a spot in the sun, by the river, at a restaurant that we hoped would quench our thirst and fill our bellies. We waited, and waited, and waited. By the time we were brought a menu and we saw the prices we were tired of waiting and the sun had gone behind the church spire. Off we headed to our rest stop to join the others and start another pilgrimage towards a suitable feeding spot. After wandering around some people managed to score a slice of tortilla but I just settled for a cold beer. We did, however, manage to book for dinner and that is what we did. The food was very good and the bottle of Bierzo wine I had was quite delicious and went well with the large chunk of grilled meat I ordered. The others settled for the Menu del Peregrino, also good value and a decent red as well.

The hostel in Molina Seca costs 7€ and is new. The owner and his wife are friendly and there is heating, plenty of hot water as well as washing facilities for those who need them. They also have beds in stead of bunks. It is on the road out of town so you are well placed for a downhill start to the day. Unfortunately, the 7 km trip to Ponferrada is mostly along the highway so it is not as interesting as being out in the country.

Day 2

Hello again,

Well, actually I am now back in Madrid but since we had no internet access along the way this addition will bring you all up to date. As I write this Monica and Petrie are still out there, surviving the elements and the pain. Un Saludo y Buen Camino to them.

OK, Day 2 is really day 1 of the walk. Heading off this fine day were Monica, myself, Christine, Kim, Petrie, Sonia and Gonzalo. All of us associates of Lawrence´s Philosophy Group in Madrid. We started fairly early and stopped for a good breakfast (no, not bacon and eggs!) and then headed out into the wilderness. Really, the main road out of town until we got we left the road and went bush, as we say. It was a pleasant and fairly flat trek up to the time we got close to Rabanal del Camino, about 24 km away. By the way, these distances are approximate and I err on the side of caution rather than extravagance.


The Pilgrims Hostelry we graced with out presence is the Nuestra Señora del Pilar. This ranch style place is pretty good, has heating, a bar and food plus pretty comfortable bunks and good showers. It cost us 4€ a night and was worth the money. After a shower and a beer while waiting for the slower paced of the group we headed off to find lunch. Most places, I should tell you, offer what they call a "Menu del Peregrino" which is basically the Menu del Dia but all day and at a decent-not cheap-price. Sonia and I settled for the Cocido Maragato which is a very similar to the Cocido Madrileño (Google it) except that the soup is served at the end of the meal. The meal consists of a selection of cuts of meat and smallgoods, cabbage and chickpeas all cooked together in stock. The idea of having the soup after the solid stuff was that in times of war, if you got interrupted at least you fought with more than liuid in your belly. A hearty and tasty meal, I must say.

Now for the village. As you see, it´s not very big and it´s on the side of a hill and as with most villages on the way there is a church. OK, three churches and monks. This being Easter Thursday there was a mass with singing and washing of feet. I was lucky enough to be invited (along with Gonzalo and 12 others to have our feet- one foot, really- washed as part of the Service.

I have to admit that it was a memorable experience. As a kid in Italy (before we headed off to sunny Australia) I had been an altar boy because I´d noticed that the girls go for the uniform. That was about the extent of my religiosity and, I hate to confess, I even set my hair on fire at the age of eleven when I fell asleep during a particularly long sermon. The great big candle I was holding had ignited my afro like top and the acrid smell of smoke had jarred me awake just in time to see this crazy woman racing towards me with a Vangelo held in a dangerous striking position. Needless to say, that episode is still talked about in Bogliacco.


Back to the hostal and a pair of Pacharans with Kim while the others meekly drank tea, ColaCao and similar beverages, we sat around by the fireplace singing along to the music on my mobile and chatting away till it was time to go to bed. The next day was going to be a long and uphill journey and we needed a good kip.

I must apologize for some of the spelling mistakes, if you notice any. In fact, they are there so that my Spanish students can make corrections, no, really!