Tuesday 6 October 2026 – It was a bit difficult to interpret the various weather forecasts we had access to. For the morning, Accuweather gave a chance of precipitation of around 40%, an icon of “Clouds”, with the real chance of rain being in the afternoon – and two weather warnings for the whole day, one for storms and one for rain. Our previous experience led us to form a plan of leaving around 9am after a leisurely breakfast; with a walk of only around 10km to Ribasar, that seemed to give us a reasonable chance of getting there without getting soaked. Also, since most people would, we thought, be undertaking the longer, 26km, walk to Santiago, they’d clear orff early so we wouldn’t have to face too much crowding.
On leaving the hotel, this plan looked reasonable. Not a pilgrim in sight, clear and not too cold.
Within 50 metres of starting out, though, it basically fell apart. We felt a few drops of rain, then a few more, and then had to stop to put on rain jackets and then to put rain covers on our backpacks. It rained quite hard for a short while, during which time we sheltered; when it seemed to ease, we set off again. The first kilometre or so was quite wet, but not unbearably so, so we carried on, past one of those Estrella adverts
which features the Padrón peppers for which the area is well-known. At the bottom right-hand corner we noted a sign that seemed to sum up much of yesterday.
The route led us past a very imposing building.
It was the Collegiate Church of Santa Maria de Iria Flavia, which, you’ll remember, is the Roman name for this area. What particularly attracted us to the building was its twin spires, which were of an unusual design. We actually walked right round the outside of the church trying to find an angle that satisfactorily captured both spires, but it was sufficiently large that this wasn’t possible. In doing so we noted that it had a very striking graveyard outside
and Jane actually found the tombstone of Rosalia de Castro
who was originally buried, as she had wished, in this graveyard; but her fame led to her remains being disinterred and moved to the Pantheon in Santiago.
There was a stone marker,
once again reminding us that we were on the Antonine Via XIX, whch led from Braga to Lugo.
The rain came and went, and the surrounding hills had some very photogenic mists.
I took this photo when it was raining quite hard, and it’s difficult to understand that from the picture above. Had you looked the other way, this is what you would have seen.
At about this time, we saw the first flash of lightning and were really quite startled by how loud the crack of thunder was that accompanied it. For a while there were regular flashes of lightning and it was clear that the thunderstorm was quite close by. We kept walking, passing a granite workshop at which a statue of St. James was on offer,
and, after about 3km, came to the Hotel Scala by the roadside. Since it was raining quite hard at this point, we dropped in for coffee,
as had many other damp peregrinos.
After a while, the rain eased a bit and we walked on. The amount of rain was variable, from a fair bit to almost nothing, and it was clear that we were on the edge of a rainy area;
we could see blue skies and that photogenic mist in the hills, but were ourselves being rained on. At one stage Jane needed running, or rather walking, repairs to some tape on a foot, and we stopped at a convenient bus shelter, where a young American lass was also taking shelter. She was from Florida and was considerably more nervous about the thunder and lightning than we were. Given that her house had been struck by lightning twice, one can understand her caution. She seemed content to wait out the weather some more but we moved on. (She might have been there quite some while – thunder was still rumbling as we reached our accommodation a couple of hours later.)
The official Camino route meandered though the countryside, but we decided, after a kilometre or so, to return to the main road, for two reasons: firstly, there would be more bus stops and other chances for shelter should the rain really kick off; and secondly all the coffee stops were on the main road, not on the trail. Accordingly, we stopped after about another 3km
for some more coffee and orange juice, which was (a) tasty and (b) well-deserved, of course. After we moved off again, we could just make out pilgrims on the parallel Camino track in the distance,
as we reached a small town with a name that deserves an entry in The Meaning of Liff
Comments on the possible alternative meanings of the word “escravitude” are welcome. Perhaps it means the enormous upwelling of relief when some kind soul provides a dose of the addictive drug that you’ve run out of?
Anyhoo…
The town had an interesting-looking church (closed, of course)
which was the point at which the Camino trail, having rejoined it for a short distance, departed from the main road once again. Since the rain was very light at this point, we followed the Camino route, as it was rather more rewarding to walk along than the N-550. It took us past a farmer who was having a harrowing experience
and who flashed his lights at us when he saw me taking his photo – I think it was him being jovial; past some more atmospheric scenery by the railway,
and to a tunnel underneath the railway
where an optimist was lying in wait, with his piano.
He struck up some minimalist kind of stuff as soon as he saw us, and Jane hadn’t the heart to walk past him without acknowledgement. As it turned out, he had a fairly interesting sello, so we were able to get our stamp and give him a small contribution in recognition of his desperation dedication. As we walked away, we heard a car door slam, and we think he might have packed up and gone away at that point; or perhaps his car was a vantage point from which he could espy the next pilgrims in time to get back and be ready to serenade them as they went by.
Our accommodation was a little way off the Camino trail, on the other side of the N-550, so we headed back towards the main road, past this vignette, which appealed to me,
as it features a couple of things which are strong symbols of the area – an horreo and a lavadoiro. The latter was decorated with a rather nice stone cockleshell.
We hit the main road at anpother potential coffee stop, which clearly several bedraggled pilgrims were taking advantage of
but we only had a short way to go, so carried on, crossing the N-550 and diving back into the rural outback of the area
where we found our way to our accommodation, Casa Vella de Rivera.
I was very glad that we didn’t then face what can be a typical Camino scenario – arriving at a remote destination only to find it locked and deserted. Rather, we were welcomed and shown around this very pleasant accommodation by Diego and his wife. We had a comfortable room, a recommendation for a local restaurant for dinner, a nice place where I can write my deathless prose for your delectation
and
an honesty bar.
The restaurant, O Tallón, about an 8-minute walk away, was delightful.
Its official opening time, as far as we could find out anything about it online, was 7pm, but Diego said we could go there early and they’d give us dinner, and it would get a bit crazy later when the Spanish turned up. It’s kind of traditional Spanish in that the obvious spaces are for drinking and snacks, and the comedor, the restaurant, is hidden away, in this case upstairs. I wasn’t sure what to expect (particularly in the matter of the availability of gin), but they had us settled down with G&Ts and olives in short order, and served us a marvellous – and copious – meal over the course of the next couple of hours. Jane had raxo – tender pork chunks – and I had chorizo in a red wine sauce, both very tasty. Of course we had Padrón peppers, too, and some of them surprised us by actually being hot, just like they’re supposed to but never have before. We had an engaging chat with a couple on the next table, from Canada but with South African roots; they were on (I think) their eighth Camino. They were able to give us some supplementary information about a French Camino route that we think Jane thinks would be a grand adventure (and one that doesn’t end with the tiresome faff of crowds on the last leg to Santiago). You’ll just have to continue your subscription to these pages to find out more…
We staggered out after far too much food (and a complimentary glass of some local coffee-flavoured hooch) and made it back to Casa Vella under torchlight but without further incident.
So: tomorrow is our last day on this particular Camino; we’ve about 15km to cover, and rather uncertain weather conditions in which to walk it. Maybe we’ll make it without getting drenched, and maybe we won’t. Check back in later to find out how it went.