Backpacking Teacher

Today was a day of sadness and of beauty and richness. I started out the morning by strapping and padding my feet until they looked all lumpy and disjointed. I walked put of town with a slight rolling motion as the padding settled into place. The pain was bearable, I could do 20km on these feet today.

I walked out into the dark and through the forests. When I emerged from the forests I was surprised to see it light already. I walked through farm lands and down beautiful country lanes and then noticed the familiar. The trees were those of back home, I was walking through a forest of eucalyptus trees. Another Camino surprise. I stopped for breakfast (cafe con leche and tarte de Santiago) only to find friends having breakfast. I joined up with them and spent most of the rest of the morning walking and talking with one of them, a history teacher in Barcelona. Our conversation spanned everything from women to school to Spanish culture and food to reminiscing about the early days of the Camino. The waymarkers around us showed 20+ km to go to Santiago, we both remember the days when it was 600km to go and we thought we had achieved a lot.

I parted from my friends who I will catch up with again in Santiago to walk by myself. While I thoroughly enjoy the camaraderie of the Camino I also enjoy the time when I walk by myself. The 20km to go waymarker pounded into my thoughts as I passed it. “780 km these feet have walked”. “My Camino is almost over”. A deep wash of sadness coursed through my body. I could feel my whole body fall into sadness as I spent the last few kilometres thinking about my experiences. This amazing experience will end soon, in just a few hours of walking tomorrow I will be done. I feel like I’m going to say goodbye to a loved one and the sadness is palpable. Nonetheless I look forward to tomorrow’s walk. My mind is enjoying the walk and I look forward to seeing many friends at the end. I may be feeling a bit sad but tomorrow feels like the right day to stop walking. I am ready.

– Posted from my phone.

The day started with zipping noises, crumpling of bags and talking in loud voices. Much like the day ended yesterday. My dorm room was filled with a Spanish group who were clearly only walking for a couple of days and were more involved in their own enjoyment than concerning themselves with others. I miss the pre-Sarria Camino where the sense of camraderie and looking out for others is a big feature. I remember being surprised in the early weeks that there was rarely litter on the Camino, you could walk for hours before seeing any rubbish. Now I can barely walk a 500 metres without seeing a plastic bag or bottle left on the route.

Nonetheless this doesn’t detract too much from the beauty of the post Sarria Camino. Today I walked with friends for awhile before going off at my own pace. I enjoy walking by myself for long stretches, it gives me time to take in the scenery and to let my thoughts float around like a leaf fluttering in the wind never staying still but sometimes returning to it’s starting point.

I walked through some beautiful forests today and then through more of the same type of countryside from yesterday. The landscape reminds me of England with it’s rolling green hills. This area of Galicia looks a bit wealthier than that of the last few days with slightly bigger villages and more modern buildings.

What you do see a lot of are Orio’s which, according to my Barcelonan friend with the Galician father, are used for grain storage. The Orio’s look like small, raised, wooden shelters that remind me of children’s playhouses. In some cases the Orio’s are no longer used for grain storage but as a form of decoration. It was interesting to look at the stylistically similar Orio’s made out of different materials.

The morning also saw me go through the town of Melide. This region of Galicia is famous for empanada (a pie’ish type dish) and pulpo (octopus). Melide is particularly well known for it’s octopus. I stopped briefly to eat, drink and chat.

From there the day got hard. Wearing sandals because of my heel blister has caused blisters to open up on the soles of both my feet. The burning sensation, especially after stopping, takes an effort to put aside. About half an hour from my destination, Arzua, I had to stop. Fortuitously as it turned out as I ran into an Italian guy I’d had dinner with a few times but hadn’t seen in a couple of weeks. He also gave me some information about an Italian girl I had been travelling with and some other updates. This is the Camino newspaper and is how information is passed on. If people mention me it’s as the Aussie teacher who works in Vietnam and I often travel with people who have travelled with other people I have travelled with. It’s a small world that has a great community feel to it.

The last half hour into Arzua was painful. Each step burned. The first two Albergues were full so I eventually just took a room in a Pension. My feet appreciated the bath and must now be getting used to being doused in betadine every evening. This evening I fashioned some padding in my socks (looks downright weird) to try to relieve the pain but I’m not looking forward to the start tomorrow. Luckily it’s only 20km tomorrow. I should be able to handle that. I look forward to the walk as I’m finding these last few days to be the time of reflection. I spent much of today thinking about my Camino and what it means for me. I expect tomorrow I will be doing more of this. It’s quite a beautiful mental winding down.

Ps. All along the trail I keep seeing posters for Camino Brazil only 500km.

– Posted from my phone

Last night was tough going. While I was happy to have a roof over my head and a mattress, no matter how grubby, it did not mean a good night’s sleep was assured. You would think after 40km I’d sleep like a log but the midnight showering woman, the snoring choir and the frightening sight of another male face inches away from mine when I rolled over did, somehow, not induce sleep. This combined with a very cold night meant I slept very little.

I woke up, not grumpy, but not exactly overjoyed at having to walk over 30km today. After having spent nine hours walking yesterday I did not relish another eight today. Nonetheless I got on with it, shouldered my pack, ignored my newly created blisters, thanks to having to wear sandals and just got on with walking. It was eerily dark with shadows cast in all directions by my torchlight searching for yellow arrows. When light eventually arrived it remained filtered through a fog and mist that remained hanging in the air until well after 11am. I trudged on and after awhile my body took over and just began to walk while my mind wandered. I still wasn’t quite into the walk but I was ok.

After a few hours of mist walking and mind wandering I arrived at my breakfast destination of Portomarin. A beautiful river port city graced by a sleek bridge and nice old town it was a perfect breakfast destination. I was happily surprised to see my two Portuguese foot heeling friends there. I joined them for breakfast and thoroughly enjoyed their lively company. This despite the fact that their Camino was over, one of the girls’ bodies had given out and so they were returning to Lisbon tonight. Despite this they remained upbeat. When I left one of them described to me the wealth of emotions she had felt when reaching Santiago in a previous Camino. This, along with their interesting company, left me feeling reinvigorated and looking forward to the rest of the day’s walk. Once again the old saying about the Camino came true – when you need something the Camino delivers. I needed to be sparked back into life and so it was.

I climbed from Portomarin into the hills beyond. I walked through a beautiful forest of slender trees and forest ferns. From there the day slowly wandered beside a main road before crossing through country areas and up, down and around little farms and hamlets. In one such place I ran into some friends and walked with them awhile. Eventually it was just me and the Italian doctor walking together and we spent a pleasant couple of hours wandering into town discussing everything from the Camino, to Australia, to Rome to Silvio Berlusconi.

Eventually arriving in Palas del Rei at about 2:30pm I went to the first of two Albergues in town only to be told it was completo (full) an almost unheard of thing to occur so early in the day. I walked up the street to the other Albergue where I met a friend I hadn’t seen in over a week, we chatted and then I asked for a bed to be told by the hospitalera that I had just been given the very last bed. Whew, two nights in a row I’ve been lucky.

That evening I dined with Korean friends I hadn’t seen in ages. It was nice to see old faces in the sea of new ones. The Camino since Sarria is a far less pleasant experience. Large groups of Spanish people who walk small sections with little day packs and interact very seldomly with other peregrinos makes for a very different experience to the rest of the Camino where people took an active interest in each other. Even my Spanish friends commented on this saying they didn’t like the feel of the Camino since Sarria. It’s a pity but it is still part of the whole experience I guess

Tomorrow another longer day of just over 30km. After that it’ll just be two short days and I’ll be in Santiago de Compostela.

– Posted from my phone

I arrived exhausted. It’s been many weeks since I’ve been so tired I just have to sit on my bed for fifteen minutes or so before I even take off my shoes. Today I just ended a 40km walk. I hadn’t intended for it to he quite so long but such are the vagaries of life. By the end of the day the dirty mattress in a room full of matresses lying on the floor like some kindergarten sleeping room became an absolutely welcome sight.

The day started off with a plan to head to the town of Sarria taking the shorter route. However I unintentionally took the longer route via the monastery at Samos. I was not unhappy about this as the route took me through the narrow defiles and valleys of the forest covered mountain slopes and within a few hours I was looking down on this magnificent monastery at Samos.

From there the day turned English. A drizzle set in and cloud covered the sky, not an unpleasant way to enjoy a slowly meandering walk down the mountains. I walked through little hamlets, alongside gurgling rivers and along narrow roads covered in sheep and cow dung. The scenery included cornfields squeezed into narrow valleys and cow pastures perched on mountain hillsides. I drank my second morning coffee at a little mountain village as I watched twittering birds take part in mating dances on the village road.

In the town of Sarria I stopped for awhile to take a break and chat to a fellow peregrino. We talked for simetime but with only 26km under my belt my day wasn’t done yet. In Sarria things got busy. This is a common starting spot for the Camino as it is just over 100km from Santiago and the pilgrimage compostela (certificate) is only given to those who have walked at least 100km.

I can see why this part of the walk is popular. It is a gentle undulating walk through small little farmlands. Most of the walk is on country roads or lanes often surrounded by short, moss covered rocky walls. The last section of the road was over stones poured over hot tarmac an unpleasant walking track. In the distance I heard gunshots most probably from the local hunting club who’s trophy shots I saw hanging on a pub wall that night. By this time of day my legs were going fine but another blister was developing and my back was beginning to ache from a back weighed down with my boots. My body was telling me to stop.

I eventually arrived at my destination, the little hamlet of Ferrerios only to find the solitary Albergue full. This is the first time this has occurred to me but is something I’ll have to plan for now since so many peregrinos have joined since Sarria. Luckily a little further on a local restaurant had a sign out the front “dormit gratis” … was I happy. It turned out it was just a dirty stained mattress on a floor in one big room with many others but for me it was fantastic.

The place is full with many others like me who have been surprised by the Sarria joiners ability to fill up Albergues quickly. From now on my plans will ensure that I have nearby backup towns to go to if an Albergue is full or just to go to major towns. The afternoon was spent chatting over beers and the world’s largest bocadillo (baguette sandwich) which was the size of my forearm. Tomorrow my day is either 26km or 33km, depending on accommodation. A good day’s walk, I feel like I earned my stripes today.
– Posted from my phone.

The day started cold and misty as we slowly made our way through the mountains. Today is the dreaded walk to O Cebreiro the steepest mountain climb since the Pyrenees, the last real physical challenge before the home stretch (150km) to Santiago. It was also my most favourite walk to date.

It was cold and the mist hung off the mountain sides. Peregrinos thrust hands into flimsy fleece jackets and walked steadily upward. Every hour or so a mountain town, made of rocky stone houses clinging to mountain sides, would appear and we would inevitably stop for a warming cup of cafe con leche or morning croissant. The little towns reminded me a lot of Darjeeling, all mountain towns seem to have a similar character.

On the walk we were joined by many new walkers and the path, in parts, looked almost crowded. Passing cars, of which there were many, would often toot horns and I wondered why so many people were around. It took a look at my watch to tell me it was a Saturday and the reason for all the busyness. I wouldn’t have had a clue what the day of the week was otherwise. I know dates because I started July 1st and each day of July corresponds to the equivalent number of days I have travelled for. I don’t know days. It’s a great feeling of freedom not to know or care what day it is.

The walk wound up, like a corkscrew, into the mountains steadily getting higher but not proving too onerous. The sun began to break through the mist and soon enough a clear blue sky and warm sun took over the day.

I walked past flowing rivers, listening to cowbells ring and watching butterflies grace the air before me. One town, La Faba, proved a hard slog to get to as the path suddenly turned steep and rocky. An hour of this saw me gulp down my Aquarius when I arrived at La Faba whilst enjoying the goings on of the hippy commune opposite. From La Faba it was more of the steep rocky ground and I stopped for another drink at the little pub playing Celtic music. A short, sharp walk later and we were standing before the outstanding views of O Cebreiro. Stupendous, magnificent, looking into the valleys below with winding pathways, little villages and farmland being worked on. The town itself is a delightful little touristy mountain village with a mixture of weekenders, cyclists, a wedding party in all their finery and peregrinos in their grubby overwork, underwashed walking gear.

Today’s walk was picturesque, varied and, at times, challenging and overall one of the finest walks of the Camino. I’m glad I didn’t miss it and my blistered foot still let me make the walk.

The Albergue, though big, is clean and efficient and has the best view in town. I sat down outside worried that my heel that was beginning to look quite bad and it was beginning to concern me when two Portuguese girls came to my rescue. Psychologists working in an intensive care unit of a hospital they took one look at my heel and declared a course of action. Dousing my foot in some red solution purloined from a hospital they had soon set my mind at rest as infection, not pain, was my biggest cause of concern with my heel. They also give me some anti inflammatories and we exchanged peregrino chit chat as these two confident, friendly and efficient women fixed my foot. I was grateful for their concern, help and confidence. I’m not sure what I’ll do tomorrow in terms of covering the wound but for now I’m much more relaxed about the problem.

– Posted from my phone

I walked today, at different times, with a French priest and a Dutch rugby player. It is one of the priceless joys of the Camino, the camaraderie that walking the same walk inspires in such disparate groups of people. The French priest and I can barely find a language in common but we travel roughly the same etapas (stages) and so have found ways to communicate. The Dutch guy I have spoken to on a few occasions and today we had an enjoyable discussion about rugby as we walked the last 8km or so of the day.

At 23km today’s walk was almost effortless. I know it was 23km because, here in Galicia (pronounce that Ga-ly-thee-ah) they have big stone way markers every 500 metres that count us down to Santiago. I hate them. I don’t want a countdown, every kilometer closer is my Camino coming closer to an end. Who would have thought that after over 650km I would still be enjoying the walking so much?

Today had a couple of short, sharp hikes but mostly just undulating hills through spectacular mountain scenery. Just a beautiful day’s walk. It started with a spectacular sunrise with the sky glowing orange behind pitch black mountains slowly bringing to light mountain tops that poked through shrouds of mist making them look like islands in the sea. From there the day meandered alongside fields of heather, paths made of shale and quartz and views spectacular enough to entertain anyone. We stopped several times for coffee and to enjoy the spectacularly beautiful walk. It was the last day my Lithuanian friend and I will walk together as she slows down to meet a friend and I speed up a little to get to Santiago by the 31st. I’ll miss her company as her intelligence and good nature made for a great walking companion.

When we arrived at our destination, the small, but longish, town of Triacastela, we were directed to a great Albergue by the French priest (spotless, spacious – at the end of town) which made for a nice end to the walking day. After obligatory washing duties we went out for a lunch to a cafe at the start of the town to see if we could see people we knew coming in. We were missing familiar faces with all the newcomers on the trail

Within half an hour we’d greeted a friend from Barcelona that we’d travelled with for awhile, my two Portuguese foot heeling friends from yesterday, an Italian friend, another friend from Valencia and ended up making a new friend in an Italian doctor. Camino friendships are easily made and are one of the many reasons it is a special type of holiday.

I spent the afternoon chatting over wine and beer with friends. The Italian doctor noticed my foot and kindly examined it, after a bit of poking, peering and prodding at it he assured me it was not infected or likely to become infected so that’s taken away my main concern with the foot. Walking on sandals has proven reasonably comfortable and the blister doesn’t impinge on my day’s enjoyment. Tonight I’ll meet with my friends again and we’ll have a few vino tintos or cañas. As I see the end of the Camino draw nearer I am trying to ensure I appreciate these last few days as much as I can.

This afternoon the French priest gave me an English copy of a speech the local parish priest had put together about the Camino. I think the French priest is well aware I’m not religious but felt I would enjoy some aspects of the local parish priest’s take on the Camino. He was right, I did. I was particularly taken with the following which encapsulates a core part of the Camino;
“The Pilgrimage to Santiago is a journey Universality [sic], in which we all feel as one and each feels a part of a small travelling universe, beyond the confines of nationalism.”

– Posted from my phone

I walked today, at different times, with a French priest and a Dutch rugby player. It is one of the priceless joys of the Camino, the camaraderie that walking the same walk inspires in such disparate groups of people. The French priest and I can barely find a language in common but we travel roughly the same etapas (stages) and so have found ways to communicate. The Dutch guy I have spoken to on a few occasions and today we had an enjoyable discussion about rugby as we walked the last 8km or so of the day.

At 23km today’s walk was almost effortless. I know it was 23km because, here in Galicia (pronounce that Ga-ly-thee-ah) they have big stone way markers every 500 metres that count us down to Santiago. I hate them. I don’t want a countdown, every kilometer closer is my Camino coming closer to an end. Who would have thought that after over 650km I would still be enjoying the walking so much?

Today had a couple of short, sharp hikes but mostly just undulating hills through spectacular mountain scenery. Just a beautiful day’s walk. It started with a spectacular sunrise with the sky glowing orange behind pitch black mountains slowly bringing to light mountain tops that poked through shrouds of mist making them look like islands in the sea. From there the day meandered alongside fields of heather, paths made of shale and quartz and views spectacular enough to entertain anyone. We stopped several times for coffee and to enjoy the spectacularly beautiful walk. It was the last day my Lithuanian friend and I will walk together as she slows down to meet a friend and I speed up a little to get to Santiago by the 31st. I’ll miss her company as her intelligence and good nature made for a great walking companion.

When we arrived at our destination, the small, but longish, town of Triacastela, we were directed to a great Albergue by the French priest (spotless, spacious – at the end of town) which made for a nice end to the walking day. After obligatory washing duties we went out for a lunch to a cafe at the start of the town to see if we could see people we knew coming in. We were missing familiar faces with all the newcomers on the trail

Within half an hour we’d greeted a friend from Barcelona that we’d travelled with for awhile, my two Portuguese foot heeling friends from yesterday, an Italian friend, another friend from Valencia and ended up making a new friend in an Italian doctor. Camino friendships are easily made and are one of the many reasons it is a special type of holiday.

I spent the afternoon chatting over wine and beer with friends. The Italian doctor noticed my foot and kindly examined it, after a bit of poking, peering and prodding at it he assured me it was not infected or likely to become infected so that’s taken away my main concern with the foot. Walking on sandals has proven reasonably comfortable and the blister doesn’t impinge on my day’s enjoyment. Tonight I’ll meet with my friends again and we’ll have a few vino tintos or cañas. As I see the end of the Camino draw nearer I am trying to ensure I appreciate these last few days as much as I can.

This afternoon the French priest gave me an English copy of a speech the local parish priest had put together about the Camino. I think the French priest is well aware I’m not religious but felt I would enjoy some aspects of the local parish priest’s take on the Camino. He was right, I did. I was particularly taken with the following which encapsulates a core part of the Camino;
“The Pilgrimage to Santiago is a journey Universality [sic], in which we all feel as one and each feels a part of a small travelling universe, beyond the confines of nationalism.”

– Posted from my phone

Crush. My feet bore down on the berries and cherries lying on the road. Dyed red the cherry berry road was just one of the many highlights of today’s walk. I hobbled out of Ponderrada in the early morning. My blister causing me some pain. Not enough to make give up walking unlike the poor Italian girl we met going through town who fifteen minutes into the day realised her body had given out and her Camino was over. She was, understandably, distressed.

The day proved a beautiful one, weather perfect and the scenery providing enough variety to keep even the jaded walker happy. We walked through Apple orchards, wound our way around vineyards and strolled through lively, lovely towns. The wine town of Cocobelos provided some great views of vineyards and some of the friendliest locals around. I got given more “buen Camino’s” in that town than any other.

From there it was a walk to test the legs as the trail rose and fell as it slowly worked it’s way towards the mountain town of Villafranca del Bierzo. The walk was hot and dusty but enjoyable as I worked my through beautiful tendered vineyards. I arrived in Villafranca del Bierzo and decided to stay at a smallish private Albergue at the end of town. Owned by a young couple this place was a delight, best showers on the Camino thus far, friendly people, good breakfast – the ideal Albergue even if slightly more expensive at €8 per night.

That evening a motley crew of peregrinos from Italy, France, Lithuania, Sweden and Korea joined together for an evening meal in the Plaza Major. It was nice to catch up with friends again although the nature of the Camino is changing. Earlier on we would recognize many faces on the walk. Since Leon and Burgos however new faces join the walk everyday. Mostly groups of younger Spanish people. It’s changing the nature of the walk for us and we miss the days when we knew almost every face in the Albergue. From Sarria (about 100km from Santiago) the trail is expected to get even busier and us old hands will be horribly outnumbered.

Heel update: in quite a bad state as the boot re-opened the wound and pushed all the bandaging off. I may need to walk in my sandals for awhile so the boots stop aggravating the wound.

– Posted from my phone

The morning was trying to start like an old car in the middle of winter. The sun pushed an occasional errant ray through but mostly failed to penetrate the surrounding cloud of grey. Around me the wind threatened to catch my hat and occasionally me and then the rain started in. This morning was a challenge. An early start failed to beat the forecast rain but it allowed me to reach Cruz de Ferro before the rain kicked the day down a notch. At the Iron Cross all the peregrinos who were there placed their stones of burden. The mound of stones at this point is impressively high and the symbolic burdens they all carry makes it a calm like place. The religious said a prayer or two and then, with burdens cast aside we prepared to weather the day. Poncho on I strode into the day. It was cold and wet, we reached the highest point on the Camino at 1,515m and the sun broke through with a couple of rays so we could appreciate the scene.

From there it was a descent into the mist and rain and fog. The wind caught at my poncho my glasses got covered in water and I began to think this would be a long walk indeed today when ahead of me two French girls burst into song. They sang with gusto clearly trying to keep happy and walked with a gait that looked almost like skipping. I smiled because they kept my spirits high and I trailed behind them for awhile enjoying their joie de vivre. Eventually I passed them but asked them to keep singing because it was so enjoyable. As I strode away I could still hear their voices singing away in French.

Every now and then the sun would poke through and it seemed the rain might stop but it persisted. After about four hours of solid walking I entered the delightful, narrow streeted, rocky housed and rocky roaded village of El Acebo. In the village the little bar was full of peregrinos getting breakfast and warming their hands on hot cafe con leche. I had breakfast and then another cup of coffee as friends arrived at this warm, friendly, “gemutlich” (as my german friends would say) almost cavelike bar of shelter from the rain. The bar at 16.5km almost marked the day’s halfway point. I left the cosy place reluctantly at about 11am but I needn’t have worried as the day gradually began to change as we walked off the mountain.

I walked along and tilted my walking stick, with a nod to Cervantes, at the windmills poking through the mist on the mountain opposite. I watched as a rainbow hugged the hillside and enjoyed another stony village with it’s steep narrow streets. Then it was walking through a forest and the sun was out and I was just loving the walking.

It was a fantastic few hours walking across the mountains slower getting lower and then entering the picturesque town of Molinaseca. With it’s church on the right with de rigeur old lady out front, market gardens on the left and the chunky 19 century stone bridge running over the gurgling river ahead it was an excellent second stop for the day and prep for the final push into the day’s destination of Ponferrada.

The walk into Ponferrada started well enough but the last 4km saw my knee beginning to ache from all of today’s descents, this combined with the blister rubbed raw saw me hobble into the rather large town of Ponferrada. I stopped briefly to admire the vineyards surrounding the town and enjoyed the quirky little suburban street where every third or fourth house had a statue on it’s front gate or fence. I finally arrived in town quite tired from a longish day of 33km with steep descents. The Albergue, with a capacity for 250, is the biggest yet. It’s impersonal and in stark contrast to the homey warm place we stayed last night. The dorm tonight feels almost prison like. My Italian friend took care of my blister this afternoon. Cleaning it and then applying, because it covers almost the entire heel, a large swatch of artificial skin. I’m grateful for her help and her medical kit because my heal was looking a bit freaky and I was worried about the state of it after another day’s walk. Tonight it’s out with a couple of friends to a local Pizzeria – yum

The town itself is another typically beautiful Spanish town with open aired plaza surrounded by cafes and restaurants. Nearby churches and an old castle adds an ages old atmosphere to the whole place.

– Posted from my phone

Clouds like swhirls of broad brushed impressionist paint filled the sky. Like some giant kaleidoscope the moving clouds and early morning sun created an ever changing colour tone to the morning vista. The walk out of Astorga was an easy stroll toward the mountains. Within an hour I was happily sitting in a streetside cafe having my cafe con leche and french toast at the foot of the mountains.

Today’s walk a relaxing stroll up pathways alongside the forest and country roads, through towns no longer made of mud but of the large rocks found in the area. Ahead the clouds continued to move and change shape. You can almost smell Galicia in the air. Galicia lies over the mountains and is renowned for it’s rainy days it’s ever changeable days.

The last stop before the final walk up to our destination of Rabanal de Camino sees us stopping for drinks in another rocky little ville. I then feel like a brisk walk and tell my friends I’ll meet them up the mountain. I pushed on enjoying stretching my legs. My golf ball blister decided to cause me some trouble and burst on the walk up the hill but it wasn’t enough to slow me down or stop my enjoyment of the walk.

After a brisk but pleasant and not overly steep walk I arrived in Rabanal. A stone town with winding sloping streets typical of mountain villages. Little clusters of townspeople standing around chatting, stone houses with flowering plants out front, a van calling out for people to bring their knives and scissors out for sharpening, this town is a great stop on the Camino. The afternoon rainshower did nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for Rabanal. The Albergue, run by volunteers including a friendly Aussie couple (great to meet some Aussies again) is run by the British confraternity of St. James and is a friendly, cosy place to stay in this friendly, cosy little mountain town.

Rabanal is also an important stop on the Camino and the reason why I stopped here after just a 20km walk. An Italian friend had explained to me when we were in Astorga why this village was of importance. Peregrinos often carry a stone, either one they pick up on the way or one they bring from home. My particular stone is one that lodged in my old boots whilst walking across the mesetas and stayed there for 8km slowly wearing a hole through both layers of socks and wearing into my heel. My stone found me.

The concept of the stones is that they represent the burdens we carry in life. Tonight a ceremony is held in which monks in the village chant gregorian prayers in Latin, a few words are said, following prayers, by peregrinos from various nations (I’ve been drafted in to do the English version as one of the few native speakers in town tonight) and then the stones are blessed. Tomorrow peregrinos carry these stones to Cruz del Ferro (Iron Cross) at the highest point on the Camino and symbolically place their burdens there. This little ritual is part of the rich tapestry of the Camino and, especially for the religious people on the walk, an important part of the journey.

Turns out I didn’t read at Vespers as the reading was only done in Spanish. Vespers was held in a little stone church opposite the Albergue and Monastery. The church is quite small and about fifty peregrinos crowded in as four of the monks chanted away in Latin. The acoustics of the church made their voices fill the small space and the intimate little ceremony carried out in Latin transported me back in time and I could feel what it would have been like for peregrinos of the past. At once sombre and uplifting, ceremonial and reverent the chanting in the church left me feeling priviledged to have seen this ages old ceremony.

– Posted from my phone.

In Indigenous culture in Australia they speak about the time of dreaming when the land was laid down. They also speak of songlines, roads and routes through the country of their ancestors along which exists stories of the creation of that area. These songlines seems to be almost a living breathing entity for Indigenous people in Australia. I never quite got it before. I understood what was being said but it didn’t really mean anything to me. Now I understand.

We who walk and have walked the Camino (note the capital C) talk of it almost as if it’s alive. A presence that can guide if not control our lives whilst on it. We say the Camino will provide. Need new shoes then the Camino will provide a shop for shoes or someother solution. Need a break then the Camino might provide an easy day or a peaceful Albergue or a town located by the river. The Camino also provides balance, no one gets off scott free, those with blisters might be given a great day those without might have to endure a hard slog. The Camino is just a pathway and yet those of us who walk it embue it with so much more. I walk in the footsteps of others, I feel like I’m following something like a songline.

This morning I followed the songline out of Léon, past the street sweepers and the Leonard Cohen posters I walked the early morning streets. I walked the straight road out of the town, past shops and car dealerships, bars and cafes. I walked through the abandoned hobbit village. A village of little domed houses covered in earth and grass with a chimney and one doorway. No one lives in the village anymore but if hobbits lived anywhere it was here (of course they could just be wine cellars but in the spirit of Yann Martel’s “Life of Pi” I’d prefer to believe my story). I walked past fields of corn and watched as aqueducts fed water into the fields. Sometimes the water rushed through creating little white water rapids and at other times it flowed so languidly as if tired from the rushing and determined to take it easy for awhile. I walked past fields of spinach in which errant corn was growing, poking it’s green straight leaves high above the crumpled spinach leaves.

I walked and walked, stopping for coffee and once to chat and share a cake with a Frenchman who’d walked from his front door in a house near Lyon. Then I walked into a beautiful sight. A little country path wound it’s way past a stream and then through a forest. A forest! Enough of parched earth, barren wheatfields and hardy scrubs here at last was the forest again.

I can smell the nearby mountains, I can see the landscape beginning to change. The soil, still hardy, supports more trees and bushes. There is water. Ahead of us lie mounds of mountains piled on the horizon, ready for our arrival. The forest didn’t last long but it is a taste of things to come.

The last 4km I slowed down, not wanting the walk to end. I arrived before 11am in the dullest town yet. I enjoyed the day’s walk immensely. It wasn’t particularly pleasant terrain, dull even but I’m enjoying the head space, the response of my body, the sun. I am not looking forward to the Camino ending. I am in the moment. The Camino is singing to me.

That evening in the Albergue our Italian friend decided to cook us a meal. I went to help her with the shopping and within a short while we were all sitting down to bowl fulls of spaghetti, bread and red wine. Another fitting end to a day on the Camino.
– Posted from my phone.

Canals, corn cobs and contrails greeted me as I began today’s walk. Today’s walk was a beauty. I drank deeply from the cup of life today thoroughly enjoying everything about the day. I have a blister the diameter of a golf ball on my heel, another two elsewhere, I have an armful of bed bug bites but I don’t care. They don’t affect my enjoyment an iota..

After many days of less than spectacular terrain the Camino delivered a walk of contrasts. The day started with a walk over a canal and past row and rows of upright green leafy fields of corn. The blue sky almost cloudless but filled with the contrails of soaring aircraft. The early morning playfulness and twittering of birds provided further contrast.

Then we walked into the elegant town of Hospital de Orbigo. Through a narrow winding road and the across a beautiful old stone, multi arched bridge, one of Spain’s oldest bridges, and into the old town. There I stopped after greeting friends who had got up earlier than me this morning (my lazy start was after 7am). I sat drinking my hot cafe con leche and piping hot croissant whilst overlooking the jousting fields in front of the old stone bridge. I pictured knights of old jousting before me and both the sun, rising in the background, and I applauded the scene.

Leaving the town the Camino divided. Left was a shorter route to Astorga, right, a little longer. I took the right route because it looked more interesting and so it proved. The right route took me past more fields of corn, old stone farm houses and rushing sounds of water as little canals fed the fields. I walked past a field of seven storks in which five stood, statue like, preening their bodies while a further two prowled around them pecking at the ground. I stood and watched awhile. In the background I saw the trail heading into a small hill and I rejoiced.

I walked up the hill along the dirt path and into the village on the other side.
“Buenos Dias”, I greeted the old woman in town who was sweeping outside her old stone house.
“Buenos Dias. Buen Vijage”, she repliedi with a little smile as she watched me walk on by.
A short walk through the village’s winding g roads, watching as the village women headed off to ten o’clock mass and I was back on a dirt track. The track took me through a dairy farm, with bellowing cows and little cages with calves that were being hand fed milk of some sort by the farmhands

Along the winding trail and entering into the village I stopped to look at the sky. Filled with contrails I noticed and then I saw that the contrails fanned out from a similar starting point creating the illusion of the shell sign that peregrinos follow. It was even pointing in the right direction, a slightly surreal moment.

I caught up with friends and we walked the last few km’s into town. A beautiful stone walled city with Cathedral spires rising high. We walked past crowded houses, the Gaudi building, the scaffolding encased Cathedral and into a delightful old Albergue with loft ceilings, wooden floors and a salt water fountain for the feet.

The afternoon/evening was spent drinking and dining with friends, wandering Gaudi’s Bishop’s Palace, admiring the chocolates in the windows in this home (self styled) of chocolate, sitting in another Plaza Major and watching as little figurines struck the city clock on the quarter hour while we downed our cañas.

– Posted from my phone

“The followers of the sun”, he said “used to walk this route. They would follow the same path as the rising and setting sun until they had reached the end of the earth”. I was talking to an elderly Spanish guy that I’d chatted to briefly before but never had an in-depth conversation with until the last half hour walk into Léon today. He was a treasure trove of information and I felt like I was receiving my own private history lesson as we walked the last section into Léon. He told me how ancient sun worshippers had laid down the original path, how Rome had declared the Camino the official pilgrimage to replace the one to Jerusalem in the middle ages, how Hospitals (refuges) and churches had been built on the route for pilgrims. I have never enjoyed a history lesson as much. An especially interesting lesson about the path I was walking and how I walked in the footsteps of others now dead for many many centuries.

Today almost felt like a day off. A mere 18 or 19 km walk into Leon. I slept in and didn’t head off until about 7:15. By this stage the dorm was empty and everyone was on the road. This didn’t worry me as everyone moves at their own pace and as mine is reasonably fast I knew I would catch up to friends throughout the day.

So it proved. The walk was flat and not overly interesting but you can see we’ve moved out of the mesetas now and are seeing more trees and shrubs and evidence if water. It’s not exactly green but it’s changing. The road was mostly the yellow dusty road we’ve become familiar with. The one that covers your boots with a fine yellow dust that sticks like chalk. I soon passed a few friends then caught up with my Lithuanian friend and we strolled the last 8 or so km into town.

The walk into Léon was much better than I’d expected or heard about. A winding road kept us mostly away from the highway and then we climbed over a little forested hill and there was the city of Léon, to the right we could see the white towers of it’s gothic cathedral poking above the red roofed buildings.

We wandered into town where we caught up with the guy who told us so much about the Camino. We were so engrossed in the conversation that we forgot to follow arrows and got a little lost. We soon found our way and before long we were happily ensconsed in the Benedictine Convent on this beautiful little Plaza Santa Maria, with it’s combination of old wooden and stone buildings, it’s fountains and statues and it’s wide open plaza with well rounded cobblestones.

That afternoon I spent pleasantly drinking beer and wine and trying tapas. Later on the Korean girl I’d met a few days earlier and I sat in a little park and discussed everything from travel to Korean blood types to the social obligations of business. We then wandered through Léon’s cathedral. A beautiful building, if not quite as intricate as Burgos’s, it has a beautiful peaceful ambience. It’s interior is filled with beautiful stained glass windows that rise several stories in this high ceilinged cathedral.

After the cathedral we met, as pre-arranged, with other friends and then following recommendations we were in a little tapas bar down one the lively side streets not so far from the Cathedral. At the table sat 9 of us from Korea, Australia, Estonia, Lithuania, Barcelona, Valencia, USA, Italy and Sweden. We had a great evening drinking and dining together. Each of us had started the Camino alone but, as everyone else will attest to, it’s nigh on impossible to be alone on the Camino. It’s one of the many things that make the Camino special. The evening finished with a mad scramble through Léon’s crowded streets as we rushed to be back before the Convent closed for the night.

A great day and night in Léon. One of my favourite (out of many delightful towns) towns. A place that is full of character and history and yet is full of life and people enjoying themselves.

– Posted from my phone

I followed my shadow today.. Actually, to be completely honest I follow my shadow everyday. It seems to know the way to Santiago if I do not. When my shadow moves to my feet and then begins to drag behind me I know that it’s about time to call an end to the walking day. There’s no point to walking the Camino with a tired shadow.

This morning’s walk out of Berciano de Real Camino (makes me wonder if there’s a competing town called Berciano de Unreal Camino) started around 6:30 when the sun is just beginning to rise. A sky of purples and reds and blues sat atop the fields of yellow and patches of muddy brown plowed earth. Early morning walks are always great, forgoing a sleep in (well nigh impossible in a dorm anyway) means you get to see the day breaking, the birds swooping, the air chilly but beginning to warm, the promise of a beautiful day sitting expectantly all around you.

Today’s walk started briskly with a body that’s feeling good. Just 8km away lay breakfast and I enjoyed moving at a goodly pace. When I arrived in the breakfast town, El Burgo Ranero (sounds like a chain of steak restaurants, doesn’t it?) I found I’d walked past the bar so I decided to forge ahead. Next stop was 13km ahead, just under 3 hours.

Those next 13km proved to be long and dull if not particularly arduous. I plowed on along this straight, straight, straight road with it’s accompaning peregrino pathway coloured a dirt greyish, whiteish yellow. Young trees lined the road and future peregrinos may enjoy their comfort but they did little for me. I enjoyed the occasional stream or outcrop of trees, the field of sunflowers and even the ultralight airfield but overall this was a piece of the Camino that errs more to endurance than enjoyment.

My body however was feeling good. I stopped briefly in a little town called Religios for breakfast and was pleasantly surprised to be given a gift of an orange by the owner. I drank my coffee and sliced my orange enjoying it’s succulence before heading off for the last 6km stretch. I also left my penknife behind

The last 6km I did not want to end. The road wasn’t particularly different and you’d think my body would have been tired after the first 21km but I hit the zone. That moment that sportspeople talk about when the the body clicks into gear and everything is possible. My mind began to wander as the body just walked. I walked at quite a pace but really enjoyed it, not looking forward to the 6km’s ending. I put on some music and positively cruised forward like some well tuned sportscar. Before I knew it I was in the lively town of Mansilla de las Mulas.

I arrived at about 11:30 and so I sat around chatting with others until the Albergue opened at 12. I made good time and while I enjoy a leisurely walk somedays and enjoy my coffee stops on all days I find that I also take pleaure is pushing my body. This means on the days when I do this I arrive at our destination before the hive. Someone referred to me as speedy gonzales but I enjoy the occasional days that I push my body hard. I do not however do too many km’s in a day as this would bring the Camino to an end sooner than I would like.

Within half hour of the Albergue being opened I had showered, had my washing done (I have never washed as much and certainly not as much by hand as on the Camino) and was sitting at a table in the narrow calle outside the albergue enjoying the sun and my ice cold beer greeting other peregrinos as they came in ….. It is always a great pleasure to see faces and people you know in such out of the way, unfamiliar places.

Later on I walked the town then joined some friends for a wine and tapas. The tapas I tried this time was chicken necks. It was surprisingly tasty, spicy and succulent and I was thoroughly enjoying sitting in the calle talking to my friends whilst enjoying my Rosé and tapas. We’d all walked in from St. Jean Pied de Port and were enjoying this beautiful day in this lively little town whose denizens filled the streets. Tonight we’ll go out for tapas and a few vino tinto’s with a slightly bigger group.

Another great day on the Camino

Ps. Two German girls came up to me and gave me the penknife I’d left behind in Religios Things like this happen all the time on the Camino. Just two days ago I’d found a phone on the trail and managed to track down it’s owner, a young Italian guy with a hole in his pocket. Everyone seems to have a similar story
– Posted from my phone

“Why are you walking the Camino?” is a common question among us.. The answers vary and involve everything from paying past dues to god, to desires to achieve balance in life, some walk after resigning from jobs and before trying new lives on, some walk for loved ones lost, some walk before deciding on whether to get married or not, some, like me, walk for the challenge both mental and physical. The best answer I’ve heard yet and one which resonates a bit with me is the answer given by the Frenchman who was doing his second Camino. He replied to the Camino question with, “I’m doing the Camino to find out why I did it the first time”.

After a poor nights sleep caused by both knees aching and the fact that the poor Italian guy in the dorm next door was throwing up I slept in a little and wasn’t on the road until 6:30. Despite little sleep I felt good and in no time at all my body went into autopilot. It just walked without requiring thought or complaint and my mind took the time to soar around like the early morning swallows swooping through the belfry.

The first hour if the walk was a pleasant level stretch to the sleepy farming village of San Nicolas de Real Camino where a morning cafe con leche and croissant greeted the morning peregrino. After an early morning chat with others in my hive I headed off. Another pleasant walk followed through fields of rolled up hay and pathways garlanded with flowers of purple/blue.

The town of Sahagun appeared in the distance and a winding path soon found us in this interesting looking town. Another stop in a great little cafe with delicious fresh pastries was all the more pleasurable because many familiar faces had stopped in the same place. I walked out of Sahagun, leaving my morning companions, my Lithuanian and Italian friends, to explore the city. I walked out past the gates of the city, across the beautiful stone bridge over the picturesque river and out through a peregrino boulevarde of poplars.

I had music on and was completely in the mood for walking. All aches and pains tucked away as I just enjoyed the sky, the flying clouds, fields of sheet, rolling landscape and occasional outcrops of trees. I felt like I could walk for days. I soon met the Korean girl I’d chatted to the day before and we had a nice walk into town sharing stories along the way. Before I knew it the day’s walk was over and we’d arrived in the simple farming town of Bercianos Real Camino. I could easily have walked on, we’d only done 24km, but I’m running to schedule and rushing it now just means my Camino will be over sooner. I have no need or desire for that.

The Albergue in Berciano was a pleasant surprise. It’s a rustic old building with pillars of roughly hewn wood and walls made of mud and straw. I feel like I’m sleeping in a barn and I like the change. Tonight we all dine together as the Hospitaleros (volunteers who run the Albergues) have promised to cook us Paella. We’re all looking forward to this communal home cooked meal

The afternoon saw me exploring this little place. The buildings here are an intriguing mismash of styles. Mostly mud, straw and stones packed between roughly hewn logs the houses were rough and asymmetrical as if made by giant kids playing in a mudpit. Here and there more modern brick buildings dotted the town while in between the two styles saw patchwork houses comprising brick, mud, straw, wood and concrete. A poor farming town and the building we were staying in looked like it’s major barn made from the same mud, straw and wood.

Late evening saw all the peregrinos in town sit down to two giant pans of paella. Not only delicious but the honey atmosphere and the general camraderie made for a great meal.

– Posted from my phone