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.
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| Moon setting outside Rabanal |
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| Foncebadon |
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| Puss |
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| Stony track down to Acebo |
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