Villafranca, 21 May

I was up at 7.30 a.m.  Rain was falling steadily as per forecast.  I left the hotel with only a coffee (not realizing that I had actually paid for breakfast with my booking).  I was at the bottom of the hill in good time for the little bus up to Pedrafita, rain falling all the while.

It was a most interesting ride up and up into the mountains.  After a couple of stops on the minor road, we swung onto the freeway.  This was a feat of engineering, with at least 4 viaducts built high above the valley floor.

On arrival in Pedrafita, it was exceedingly cold, so I headed straight for a bar to get a hot coffee.  I got talking to a Norwegian girl, Sol, who also had a foot problem which was preventing her from continuing to walk.  However she was limping along and determined to complete her Camino by bus.

When she had found a hotel and deposited her bags, we shared a taxi for €10 up to O’Cebreiro.  When we got there, the weather if anything was worse.  It seemed to be blowing a Force 10 gale, which made my notion of strolling round the little town very unattractive.  I had been there previously with Fresco Tours, but we had arrived late in the day on a lovely Autumn evening, with no time to look around.

Sol and I headed for the old Church, now with its own legend, and had our Credencials stamped by a monk.  We then hurried inside (as fast as we could with our gammy feet!)  to a warm bar across the street.  I ordered a sherry and the lady also gave me a tiny bowl of chicken noodle soup.

Suddenly some old Camino friends of Sol arrived, and were amazed to see her there, thinking she must be behind them.  They had left her way back, injured.  They were a couple from Queensland with their grown up daughter.  We had an enjoyable long lunch (just beer and bowls of garlic soup), but we made it last as long as we could as it was just too cold and wet to go out.  From our little refuge we were able to watch all the pilgrims arriving, struggling up the hill, exhausted and dripping wet.  Not the dream Camino!

Outside I saw “Taxi Ana” parked, but no driver.  The friendly bar lady located Ana for us, having a coffee at the opposite bar.  So we jumped in and headed back down to Pedrafita.  The driver agreed to take me back down to Villafranca for €30.  I was keen to get back to the warmth and welcome of the Parador.  Ana drove down the freeway at speed, negotiating the bends with skill and talking on her mobile at the same time.

I thawed out with a nice hot bubble bath, washed my hair with proper shampoo and conditioner, then lazed on the bed watching the Spanish TV News.  The weather forecast was still solid rain across Northern Spain.  After another long Internet session, during which I booked my hotel in Madrid for 2 nights, it was time for dinner: a fresh salad with goats cheese, followed by octopus and potatoes.

Iglesia de Santa Maria Real,  O'Cebreiro
dating from 9th Century

Bibles in the church in many languages

Candles in the church

Typical house in O'Cebreiro

Hotel next to the church

Looking back from O'Cebreiro

Cacabelos to Villafranca, 20 May (8 kms)

I had made a booking at the Parador in Villafranca with Booking.com (€85), so I was looking forward to a night of luxury!  It was only about a 2 - hour walk, though it took me 3 going at my much slower pace with this tendonitis which seemed to be getting worse not better as the days went by.

Leaving town I looked at a large model of an ancient wine press.  I took the scenic route through all the vineyards of the Bierzo.  Many had touristic signs advertising the grapes they produced and giving a history of that type of grape. It was much cooler en route, with clouds on all sides and showers threatening. As I was coming down into Villafranca it seemed about to rain, but this didn't come to much till the afternoon when it poured down.

Diagram of winepress

Winepress

Vineyards:  every pilgrim must have photographed this view!

I passed the Church of Santiago (11th century), where it was possible in medieval times to obtain your pardon if you were too old or infirm to reach Santiago itself.  I felt that my tendonitis might qualify me!  The layout of the town was rather confusing, and I had to ask the way to the Parador.  When I finally arrived, it was a haven of peace and luxury!  It had a full range of toiletries to replenish my dwindling supplies.  I ran a big hot bath and lazed in it for a long time with a bottle of beer in my hand!  I also spent some time looking out of the window at the view across the valley.  I could see the entrances to the tunnels into the mountain, one for the normal road and two for the freeway.  There was also a very tall chimney in the middle of town with a stork's nest on top.

Entering Villafranca, albergue in front

Best of all, the Parador had 3 computer terminals for the Internet, so I was able to read and send emails at my leisure, and then research a few ideas about where to go from here in view of my tendonitis problem.  Hotels in Mallorca seemed twice as expensive as I had been paying over here, and the good ones in Illetas were filling up fast.

I talked to the friendly guys in Reception, and discovered that there was one bus in the morning going up to Pedrafita, 4 kms from O'Cebreiro, with a return at 6.30 p.m.  The only problem on the horizon was the worsening weather, with rain solid forecast for the next 5 days at least!

I walked into town to check the info about the buses at the Turismo, and got caught in a gusty downpour which threatened to turn my umbrella inside out.  I had dinner in the Parador: c.€30, with grilled mixed veggies for starter, then a skewer of fish and scallops on a bed of rice.  Not bad at all, but I couldn't manage dessert!.

Church of Santiago

Castillo Palacio de los Marquesas

Transport of baggage for pilgrims

Bedroom at the Parador

Toiletries

Veggies

Seafood

View from my window of the tunnels

Ponferrada to Cacabelos, 19 May (7 kms plus bus)

I had previously discovered that local buses ran frequently as far as Fuentesnuevas, almost as far as Camponaraya, so I caught one at 8.40 a.m. and was soon transported through miles of suburbs to a walk of only 7 kms to my destination of Cacabelos.

I had decided to give my stomach a rest so that it could recover, so everywhere I could I simply ordered a black tea with lemon: I must have drunk 4 of these today!

The walk was lovely: through vineyards looking very healthy in rather stony ground.  I rejected the temptation at a Bodega for wine tasting at €1.5  (the only one I've seen in Spain).  It was a bit early and I was still resting my stomach.

I had booked into the Hostal Santa Maria, having been told that the lovely Posada La Moncloa de San Lazaro was full (though its possible I got the day wrong on the telephone).  The Posada looked a really interesting historic building when I passed by, so I resolved to drop in later for a drink later in the day.

When I finally did this at 5.30 p.m. or so, I shouted myself a whiskey to (hopefully) finally settle my stomach.  As I sat enjoying this in the upstairs restaurant area, I noticed it was pouring with rain outside.  What a change in the weather!  This was the first heavy rain I had seen in Spain in 3 weeks:  perhaps this was more typical of this part of the Camino.

A group of ladies were having a knitting lesson from a woman selling beautiful wool.  The group were seated happily at a round table, oblivious to the weather.  I decided to have a light meal there to warm me up before venturing out into the cold wet night.

Posada La Moncloa Restaurant

Church of Santa Maria: XVI century
with 10th century apse

Se vende

Molinaseca to Ponferrada, 18 May (by taxi)

I asked the Señora in the hotel to call me a taxi, which took me 7.5 kms into Ponferrada and dropped me in the centre of town, deserted on a Sunday morning.  We passed the amazing edifice of Castillo de los Temparios.  I should have got him to drop me there, as I had to walk back to it in search of El Castillo Hotel.  They told me I could have a room at 10.30 a.m., which was fine with me.

Having checked in, I wanted to spend the morning looking round the Castillo de los Templarios.  It was a most interesting medieval castle, complete with a moat on one side and a deep river gorge on the other.  There was a drawbridge and remains of a portcullis, turrets and defensive walkways on the battlements between them, with slits for arrows and holes for boiling oil, I imagine.  There were bits of the building dating from various historical periods, and much had been restored.  The audio guide was not available and the small leaflet not up to explaining everything.

There was a small section on the different building styles, concentrating mainly on the types and colours of the stones used, with a reference to coats of arms, but not all of these were visible.  The Knights Templars themselves were outlawed in 1312 and disbanded by a Church "fearful of their increasing power and esoteric tradition."  I must research this more when I get back home!

After walking all around the grounds of the Keep, noting the well and the secret tunnel, which allowed the castle under siege to draw water from the river down below without the enemy knowing about it.

It was now getting very hot for this part of the world. I later saw a chemist's sign reading 32 degrees.  I followed the Camino signs through the Street of the Clock, through the arch of the Torre del Reloj (16th century) into the Plaza Mayor.  It was International Museums Day, with free entry to all museums, but I had run out of energy for the Museo del Bierzo.  So I went instead for a gazpacho and vino tinto in the square at the Violet Restaurant.  After a siesta, I returned there later in the day for a Broken Eggs Dish, served in the pan, with chips and local ham and young garlic shoots.

I shouldn't have eaten all this: more stomach problems in the night!

Castillo de los Templarios

Drawbridge

Bridge over the moat

Portcullis and turrets

Castillo from the riverside

Street of the Clock

Acebo to Molinaseca, 17 May (9 kms)

At breakfast, an Australian couple I'd met before reminded me that today was Saturday and everything was booked up in Ponferrada.  I decided to opt for Molinaseca, since I would get there early in the day and be able to look around at leisure for somewhere to stay.

The walk, again with some steep and stony downhill bits, took 2.5 hours, with no bars open en route. The scenery was spectacular, with many wild roses in flower and scenting the path.  It was a joy to glimpse Molinaseca down in the bottom of the valley.

The first place I came across over the bridge was advertising bacon, eggs and baked beans.  Never did an English breakfast taste so good!  The hotels I'd thought of (La Posada de Muriel and Hotel de Floriana) were both full, the latter preparing for a grand wedding.  I finally found a little gem, El Reloj (the Clock), a small Casa Rural with traditional fittings and beautiful crisp white sheets.  The owner lent me his iPad to send an email home, but the Spanish autofill feature drove me mad making unwanted corrections.

I went out for a stroll to the bridge later in the evening.  Lots of Spanish families with kids enjoying the sun, the kids paddling in the river while the parents had a drink.  I was ready for some food, but nothing was available till 7.30 p.m.  (I had only had a bag of cherries for lunch).  I ordered mushrooms a la plancha and chips, but the portions, which were theoretically tapas, were too much for me.

I enjoyed the ambience of the traditional hotel, with lots of ancient artefacts and agricultural implements on the walls.

Near Molinaseca

Molinaseca main street

Mushrooms a la plancha

El Reloj Casa Rural

Rabanal to Acebo, 16 May (17kms)

What a tough day!  It took a lot out of me and I really struggled to reach my destination of Acebo.  In retrospect, I realise it was because I had allowed myself to get completely de-hydrated, which weakens the body without you realising it.

The way up to Foncebadon and the Cruz de Ferro was hard going.  It was a beautiful sunny day with clear views on all sides.  Purple heather, white gorse, yellow broom, but the path was a slog!  At Foncebadon, the hippie-style albergue was serving a D.I.Y. breakfast, including flasks full of coffee and tea, getting a bit luke warm by the time I arrived, plus rock hard tostadas.  Even so, I should have had more to eat or drink, to give me strength for the climb.

At the Cruz de Ferro it was quite windy, and hard to find a warm place to sit that was out of the wind.  As I watched all the pilgrims place their stone on the pile with great solemnity and then pose for photos, I lost patience with the whole enterprise.  This was a great symbolic moment for some, but I was feeling worn out and knew that the descent down into Acebo would be equally demanding.

At Manjarin, another hippie establishment offered unattractive fizzy drinks and snacks for a donation.  The only nice thing about it was a friendly puss cat.  I finally asked if they had a glass of red wine, which I poured into my bottle to flavour my water.

As the stony, slippery path wound its way downwards into Acebo, I found myself taking more and more rest stops. I didn't feel too good and even resisted the chance to buy some delicious looking cherries from a roadside stall.  My stomach could not face them!

Finally at Acebo, a pretty mountain village, I secured a single room in an annexe to La Posada del Peregrino.  This was in a normal house, no longer inhabited.  When I went to have my pilgrim's meal at 7.00 p.m. it was an effort to walk back up the street.  I found I could only eat my soup and had to leave my shrimp omelette and chips.  What a waste!  And what a day to fail to enjoy the magnificent views because of dehydration.

Moon setting outside Rabanal

Foncebadon

Puss

Stony track down to Acebo

Sta Catalina to Rabanal, 15 May (12kms)

I went very slowly today because of my aching tendon and tired legs generally.  Every single pilgrim en route passed me, no question about it!  The snow covered mountains up ahead were now much nearer, but surely the snow would melt under the hot sun we were getting.  Could this lovely weather continue?

At El Ganso I stopped at the Cowboy Bar for a coffee, then pressed on and up towards Rabanal, which became visible in the distance.  On entering the town I stopped for a beer and a gazpacho, which was delicious and replaced some of my fluids.

I proceeded through the town towards my chosen destination for the day: La Posada Gaspar, where I was given an attic room (unable to stand up in parts), but with a splendid new bathroom and full-sized bath.  I had a good long soak and ate some cheese and tomato and bread while doing so!

Later, down in the vine-covered courtyard I celebrated with a G and T  (€4).  I was now only 242 km from Santiago.  For dinner I opted for a small bar that advertised Italian cuisine, a mistake because it was only a frozen pizza!

Cowboy Bar

Flowers at rest stop