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

Astorga to Santa Catalina, via Castrillo de Polvazares, 14 May (10kms plus detour)

I left Astorga at 7.45 a.m.  It was still very chilly at that hour.  On the way out of town I felt some twinges at the back of my heel.  Was this the beginning of the dreaded tendonitis, which has caused many a pilgrim to abandon the Camino?  I hope not!

The detour I made to Castrillo was not really worth the effort,  but I had to find out.  The restored Maragato village was just like a film set, but the residents' cars were in the way of good photos.  There were several "authentic" restaurants, not yet open at 11.00 a.m., but waiting for an influx of tour buses for lunch. I stopped at one for a coffee, just to use their loo, and was served by a lady still in her dressing gown!  There were no other pilgrims in sight:  they had all stuck to the main route.

I had already fortified myself with a "green smoothie" at an organic restaurant El Llar in Murias de Rechivaldo, where the lady insisted on telling me every ingredient that went into it, including numerous herbs, parsley, pineapple, banana and lots more!

The way to Sta Catalina was a picture:  yellow and white gorse lining the route.  I finally arrived in hot sun at El Caminante, where I had a beer and a free tapa.  Their interior courtyard was so pretty with geraniums and other pot plants, it tempted me to ask for a private room there (€20).  The private rooms were upstairs overlooking the courtyard and the Albergue downstairs.

Outside, I got talking to an American lady who was rounding up a group of people to go and have dinner at San Blas Albergue just down the street, so I went along with them.  They included a father and daughter from Sydney.  Her feet were all patched up with blister dressings, but she was very cheerful about it and told me about a reality TV show she watched at home called RBT, featuring all the stupid and ridiculous excuses made by drivers to try and evade fines.

Dinner was mixed salad followed by trout and chips, then yoghourt  (€9.50).

Castrillo de Polvazares

Castrillo de Polvazares

Castrillo de Polvazares

The Way