Day 24. Portomarin to Palas de Rei and back. 34 miles

Day 24. Portomarin to Palas de Rei. 17 miles (34 miles out and back)

I said I'd explain about today's activities. This is Brendan's first day of walking on the Camino. You have to do a minimum of 100km to qualify for an official Compostela certificate, and I guess have your name called out in the cathedral for completing a pilgrimage. 100km lies between. Sarria and Portomarin at a tiny place called Pinza. B chose to start at Sarria and I drove him there first thing.

After parking the car back at Portomarin, I set off to cycle the next bit of the route - to Palas de Rei. Not much in terms of distance, you might think, but the last two days involved climbing up and over a couple of mountain ranges, then the hilly road between Sarria and Portomarin, so I felt a bit lacking in energy. Also I had to cycle back from Palas de Rei to Portomarin.

The road climbs steadily from Portomarin for 12km and then cyclists and walkers are directed onto a narrow country lane. It's tarred though, but has a a lot of short steep ups and downs. So pretty exhausting. Beautiful scenery and a succession of tiny hamlets each with a cafe or two and some pilgrim accommodation. Ligonde was the biggest, and you felt you were cycling through someone's farmyard. They had certainly driven cattle along the Main Street recently!

Ligonde gives me a chance to mention languages. Hereabouts they don't speak the Castilian Spanish that we get taught at school, and that the phrase books use. Instead it's Galician, which sounds very different from Castilian. Place names often seem to have two versions, and you often see road signs that have been altered (informally) with spray paint. Ligonde has had the last two letters deleted, so I guess the Galician name is Ligon.

Cycling back against the tide of walking pilgrims was an odd experience. Instead of people's backs, you see their faces. Cyclists going with the crowd are assumed by walkers to be pilgrims, and often a greeting of 'Buen Camino' is exchanged. If going against the flow, the supply of greetings seems to dry up.
Back in Portomarin, I stopped off minto a supermarket and a gift shop. Stocking up on a few groceries and also to get a Camino T shirt and fridge magnet for B's birthday present.

B arrived back from his walk about 3pm, a bit footsore, but perked up after a cuppa, piece of chocolate cake, and a shower.

And here are his feet and boots after the first day's walk.

T
Here's the first entries in B's Pilgrim Record.

Evening meal will be at the campsite cafe.

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Day 23. Valle do Seo to Portomarin. 60 miles.

Day 23. Valle do Seo to Portomarin. 60miles

After writing yesterday's bulletin, we discovered that the car battery was flat. It's the original battery from 8 year ago. Had it simply come to the end of its life? Recently you we've switched our breakdown cover to Nationwide (it comes with one of their bank accounts), so here was an opportunity to see how it worked. Brendan phoned in the evening to report the problem. It was agreed to phone again in the morning. The engineer arrived within an hour, gave the battery a boost advised be to drive for at least 2 hours today. Great service all round.

So our usual pattern of meeting up during the day didn't happen. B drove straight to the next campsite, at Portomarin, a small town on the shore of what looks like a lake. It's really a dammed up river. The town was rebuilt stone by stone when the valley was flooded. You approach the town over a smart looking bridge, and straight ahead is an enormous flight of steps rising up through a turreted portico into the town. The campsite is off to the right about a mile. Grassy, partly shaded, good facilities, cafe/bar. We're staying here two nights, which will make sense when you read tomorrow's posting.

Back to cycling. It was another cool morning, so the climb up to Pedrafita do Cebreiro proved to be a steady, but not exhausting plod. The gradient averages 4% but there are a few slightly steeper stretches. Fuel was that excellent combination of potatoes (left over mince and tatties from last night's meal, and oatcakes). As time passed, I collected a cloud of house flies - they seemed to like the smell of my sun block (that's being charitable). I didn't shake them off till on the final climb to O Cebreiro. It wasn't that I was cycling faster, quite the opposite, but there was a stiff breeze up that high. O Cebreiro is at 1300 metres. The hamlet includes a cluster of circular, thatched, stone dwellings that used to be summer residences for local farmers when the took their animals up to them summer pastures.

These ones have been restored. The road stayed high up for several miles, undulating a bit, and crossing two more summits, alto de San Roque at 1270m (there is a statue of him by the roadside) and Alto de Poia (1332m).

Just before Alto de Poia I spotted this mountain village graveyard, looking more like a collection of little cabins than graves.

From here the road made a gradual descent for 16 km, with wide sweeping curves and a smooth surface. I got to the foot of this hill (Triacastela) in 25 minutes. The road continues dropping to Sarria, a much bigger town than I was expecting, and not easy to navigate through. The usual white arrows painted on the road as markers to cycle pilgrims seemed to take a break in the town. I saw another cyclist who said he'd come from Santiago and pointed the way for me. His journey started in Lisbon, and he's aiming for France, one of the few pilgrims going the opposite direction. After Sarria, the road climbed for several miles, but, O Joy, the final 8 km were downhill.
Here is the view from inside the tent.

And this is what you see from the terrace of the campsite bar/restaurant. A very fine kitchen garden in th foreground.

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Day 22. Rabanal del Camino to Valle do Seo. 44 miles

After a simple but delicious breakfast at the inn, I was faced with a stiff climb up to the highest point on the whole journey, at over 1400 metres, higher than Ben Nevis. Fortunately it was a very cool morning, which helped. The vegetation became greener as the top of the hill approached. Oak is the main tree, with some pine higher up. Two kinds of heather (calluna and erica) and two kinds of broom (yellow flowered large broom and white flowered smaller broom) form most of the shrub layer. There are occasional wild roses, plenty of bracken and, several smaller flowering plants whose names I don't know. Should have brought a flower book.

Anyone know what this little yellow flower is?

Reaching the Cruz de Ferra proved to be a very emotional experience for me. As soon as I saw it looming over the horizon on the last stretch of the climb, tears came to my eyes.It's an iron cross atop a tall wooden pole supported by an enormous, cairn of stones. There are photos of people, and items such as ribbons, flags, and pieces of cloth pinned to the pole. There is a tradition that here pilgrims place a stone from their home country. For some this may symbolise the laying down of burdens, psychological or spiritual, as a part of the pilgrimage. To me, this place seemed to have a far greater sense of spirituality to it than all the churches I have visited so far. I was thinking of the words we use in our church to begin our worship: "Divinity is present everywhere. The whole world is filled with God. But in certain places and at certain times, we feel a specialty of presence..." This was certainly one of those places and times. I felt exhilarated to have reached this high place, but am conscious that another mountain range had to be crossed tomorrow, with an even longer climb. The stone I laid was taken from the river Liddel at my home town, Newcastleton, in the south of Scotland. Brendan too laid a stone from Scotland on the cairn. We spent a while quietly before messaging our families. B gave me a scallop shell to attach to my bike as a souvenir of the journey.

Downhills can be exhilarating. But this one was scary. Long and steep, with a rough surface and many bends. I hoped the brakes would work. Half way down is a tiny village called El Acebo. I had read that cyclists have died here due to slipping on the paved surface of the road. In fact, the concrete paving has rough stones set into it, so it's a bit uncomfortable to ride through. There was a smooth concrete shallow drain down the centre of the road, with water running in it. But I managed.

Our planned meet up in the next big town, Ponferrada, proved a challenge. The place turned out to be vast, a city of maybe 100,000 or more. But thanks to mobile phone technology we found each other. B unfortunately had a minor tussle with a door in a supermarket. He had been attended to kindly by one of the shop ladies and emerged with a plaster on his nose.

Second stop was in the charming town of Villafranca del Bierzo, in the foothills of the next mountain range. Exit from the town took me through a road tunnel by which the N-IV road traffic could avoid the town centre. That road has now been bypassed by a motorway which runs up the valley on a series of viaducts. Many hillsides have been scarred by construction of this road, and although there is some evidence of landscaping/tree planting, it will be many years before the vast scars turn green, if they ever will. The other hillsides of this valley are covered in lush woodland (oak, with pine higher up).

A gently rising, quite road led me to the camping site at Valle do Seo. A quiet meadow surrounded by trees and with the best soil of any camping site so far.

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Day 21. Part 2. Rabanal del Camino

Rabanal is an old stone village high up in the mountains, something like 1150 metres above the sea. The village looks like a collection of farms grouped together. But every building seems to be in good repair, and there are some that look new.
We booked into the Hosteria del Refugio, which is a village inn.

They do meals and there is a bar.
Here are a few photos of the village to give a flavour.

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Day 21. Leon to Rabanal del Camino.49 miles

Day 21. Leon to Rabanal del Camino. 49 miles.

The last day of flat terrain. I think. Leaving the campsite about 9am, I headed straight through the city of Leon, with a short detour to the cathedral where I got my Pilgrim a Record stamped (at the cathedral museum ticket office, actually). Crossed the river on an ancient stone bridge now pedestrianised. Coming out of the city, I rejoined the N-120 road which led me through some rather dull straggly suburbs, all of which had plenty of cafes, restaurants, hostels and hotels, all with an eye to the pilgrim tourist trade. Plenty of pilgrims on foot. Weather fairly cool this morning, as it has been the last couple of days, so ideal for cycling. I could see the parallel motorway as I moved along the N-120. The motorway had far less traffic than the N-120. The tolls must have something to do with this.

Our 6lb Camping Gaz cylinder is about to run out, and we hadn't managed to identify a stockist, so B called in at a hypermarket and bought a small camping stove plus some gas cylinders. Hope it's a kind that can be bought in the UK.

We met up at Hospital de Orbiga for my early sandwich. This is many charming small town on the Camino taking its name from an early religious foundation for pilgrims. There was a pharmacy nearby, so I bought some cream to help my cracked lip. The pharmacist blamed the sun, which was true, but the crusty bread didn't help. It's a Neutragena product and also has factor 30 sun block in it.

Second stop was at Astorga, a hilltop cathedral city of modest size. On entering the city, I saw the first moving train I'd seen since coming to Spain. There have been very few railway in the area we've been crossing, so railways are few and far between, and probably lowish traffic density. Next the cathedral is a Bishop's Palace, designed by the famous architect, Gaudi. Only €3 to get in. A splendid building if somewhat bizarre, and wholly impractical as a residence for a bishop, and not a patch on his Sagrada Familia church in Barcelona.

The last 20km today took me out into wilder countryside. The road climbed fairly steadily, passing a few very old, stone villages. The landscape changed. No cultivation any more, just miles of scrubby woodland of stunted oaks, some willow, and an undergrowth of some kind of heather. The pine, trees hereabouts seemed to have been planted rather than wild.

Rabanal, when I got there proved to be a substantial village with many places for pilgrims to eat, drink and sleep. There are a couple of food shops too. As the last place before the fierce ascent to the Cruz de Ferro, this looks a prosperous wee place. It would be a ghost town without the pilgrims. We're booked into the Hosteria el Refugio, which is basically a village inn. Going to have a shower, then a walk round the village, then a beer.

Day 20. Carrion to Los Condes to Leon. 63 miles

Day 20. Carrion de Los Condes to Leon. 63 miles.
Yesterday evening we visited one of the many churches in Carrion - Santa Maria del Camino. It has the most spectacular decorated wall above and behind the high altar. It's covered in a huge carved scene showing various saints focused on the Blessed Virgin Mary plus Biblical scenes, and all covered in gold.

All the churches in this town have clocks that chime the hour and the quarters, but they chime a few seconds apart. The nearest first, then a fainter one, and finally a very distant one. I tried to remember how fast sound travels. Would that account for the time lag?
Many church towers round here have storks nests on them. The old convent in a Carrion, has a rickety bell tower held up by steel scaffolding, and several nests.

In one of the tiny villages I passed through today, there was a modern church, with what I guessed must be a purpose built metal tower for them storks. They seemed quite at home.

The strong wind which had made pitching the tent so difficult continued all night. A clear sky, and temperature dropped to 9 degrees by 7am. Note to self - pack an extra blanket next camping trip. We are 900 metres above the sea, so cold nights are perhaps to be expected.
Our first stop today was at Sahagun, a small town with an Irish pub! We had a coffee and cake at a cafe opposite, then B stocked up on groceries at the local Spar.
My route took me under a high speed railway that is under construction. Yet the parallel ordinary two-tracked electrified, line more or less parallel to it seemed to be devoid of trains, at least during the half hour I cycled alongside it. Again the mystery of how Spain can justify construction of these grand pieces of infrastructure.

At Mansillas de las Mulas we stopped next to the parish pump where all the town's old men congregated to set the world to rights. I expect their wives were busy at home, cleaning and cooking while they relaxed.

The Leon campsite is 2 km off the main road up a hill. Small, with tent pitches among the pine trees - so dappled shade - and a very friendly and helpful lady who advised on where we might stock up with camping gaz.

We'll be cooking on the Trangia by tomorrow. Note to self - buy a spare full canister of gaz for the big camping stove. We'll try and cook some potatoes tonight, but if all fails, can get chips at the campsite's cafe. Campsite also has wifi, but it's a bit slow, so not attempting to add photos.

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Day 19. Burgos to Carrion de Los Condes. 58 miles

Day 19. Burgos to Carrion de Los Condos. 58 miles.

Navigating through Burgos was straight forward for me on the bike, and would have been for Brendan except that part of the road had been closed by the time he came along, for a marathon. No diversions in place, so he had to try several side roads. This meant that I got to Olmillos de Sadamon, our agreed meeting place before Brendan. A small village with enormous church and a ruined castle. I ate a sandwich here then moved on to Villasandino where we coincided. Lunch was in Melgar de Fernamental, a small town with a charming central square. There were loads of cafés and restaurants, but almost no customers. Maybe because it is Sunday today. Melgar is just off the autovia, so maybe during the week it picks up passing trade.

I was amused, when stopping for a swig of water and an oatcake (yes, there are still some left) to be overtaken by a huge convoy of cyclists, complete with motorbike outriders, cars with full headlights on, ambulance and support van. I seem to be managing with just one support person and vehicle.

By the way, I cycled the whole way along the N-120 road, now dead quiet due to the parallel motorway, which itself was dead quiet.

Near Osorno la Mayor, the Santander to Palencia and Burgos to Leon motorways crossed at right angles, amid a clover leaf of slip roads. The N-120 wove its way through this intersection. But I seemed to be the only person using the road today. The simple fact is that round here there is a very low population. The land is a gently rolling upland plain, probably quite dry in the summer. There are vast fields of wheat wind sunflowers, but hardly any villages, and no isolated farms. At one point I noticed that I could see no houses and or cars. In the far distance to the north are mountains with snow patches still on them.

Weather today was sunny with some cloud giving shade during the morning. Moderate wind from the north east i.e mainly behind me. By mid afternoon, the wind had strengthened and it took both of us to get the tent up, me holding on to the guy ropes while Brendan did the pegging. Normally, the tent can. Be put up by one person.

Good site though.

A cafe in Carrion de los Condes