Tag Archives: Camino de Santiago

Camino Day 34 – Triacastela to Sarria: Going to the Dogs

Friday 22 September 2023 – Today was a day of inaccurate expectations.

The Accuweather forecast for today was very discouraging. Previously, if the chance of precipitation was around 50%, it might have predicted “Cloud”, or “Intermittent Cloud”. Today, for each of the relevant locations for the day – Triacastela, Samos and Sarria – it forecast, baldly, “Rain”. Given that much of the day’s walking would be on trails rather than roads, I was sorely tempted to wear walking shoes rather than the tried-and-trusted socks and sandals. Before we went to breakfast, I looked outside and it was dry, so I trusted to luck and donned sandals.

As we ate breakfast, it started to rain. Of course it did.

However, I decided to stick with sandals. We donned rain jackets and rain covers for the backpacks and started off at about 0830 into persistent, but not overly heavy, rain.

There were, broadly, two options for the day – going via the Samos monastery, or taking the direct route. We decided to stick with plan A and head for Samos, on the basis that 25km across country in the rain was probably less dispiriting than 16km grinding along beside a road. You can see the Relive video summary of the day here if you haven’t time to read on.

Quite soon after we set out, the rain, to my surprise, eased, then stopped altogether – the first of my expectations unfounded.

We spent the first few kilometres walking beside the road

on a track that was well-maintained for the most part.

After about 3km, we departed the road and struck out across country, coming to the first of the many (largely deserted and somewhat crumbling) villages that we’d pass through in the day – San Cristovo do Real.

Our path was good underfoot, and the weather persisted in not raining.

We walked through Renche,

which had some interesting roof tiling on some of its properties.

We were particularly struck by the “dragon’s back” effect achieved with the slates; dwellings in some of the other villages had a similar approach, so it would seem to be something of a local architectural vernacular. There was a lot of slate in the ground as we walked the paths, which made its choice as roofing material quite logical.

A possible coffee stop in Renche proved to be closed, despite the protestations of the owner on Google Maps. We used his tables and chairs, though, to park our backpacks whilst we took off the fleeces we had on under our rain jackets, as we were getting quite warm. This was as the result of a second expectation of mine which proved to be inaccurate – the terrain. The route, according to Garmin, had this profile.

I had expected a drop of 270m over a distance of 25km to be a gentle downward stroll; as Google might call it, “largely flat”.

It wasn’t. It reminded us of something we’d come across in our travels in South America. In Peru, where the Incas held sway for so long, there is a terrain description: “Inca flat”. Given the Incas’ predilection for building large and complicated structures up mountains, it should come as no surprise to learn that what they considered flat going was, well, not. And so it was with out path today – Inca Flat, with some surprisingly steep uppy and downy bits. However, the weather was kind to us and the going underfoot was largely fine, so it was a pleasure to make our way, and we were really glad that we’d stuck with the longer trail after all.

San Martiño do Real was the next village we passed through,

and shortly after we reached a place proudly advertising itself on Google Maps as the “Mirador de Samos”. We had high expectations of getting a really good view of the fabled monastery of Samos, Mosteiro de San Xulián.

Well, I suppose it’s a decent overview, but it would help if someone chopped a few of those trees down, don’t you think?

We walked the tortuous route into Samos and found a coffee stop – very welcome after 10 coffee-less kilometres – which also gave us a very nice view of the monastery.

As we sipped our coffee and snarfed our croissants, we made plans about just having a quick look around the monastery, as we wanted to crack on with the walk while the weather was good rather than investing time waiting for and going on a guided tour.

Another expectation shot down. You can only enter the monastery as part of a guided tour; we’d just missed one, so would have to wait the better part of an hour before a 40-minute tour. Probably in Foreign, at that. So we took a photo of the (admittedly impressive) frontage,

got an equally impressive stamp on our credentiales, and decided to move on, whilst, as I say, the weather was good.

About half a kilometre further on, it started raining.

We took shelter under some trees and waited a few minutes, and, fortunately, the rain eased, so we carried on.

Very shortly we came to Foxos,

which has a squash court.

We were walking between the road and the Rio Sarria at this point, and the river gave us some nice scenes such as this.

At this stage we were somewhat part of a procession of pilgrims, but we had a trick up our sleeves, ha, hah! Whereas the official track simply headed off directly to Sarria, walking some 10km beside the road, both the Brierley book and the good folks at WalkTheCamino.com had provided an optional route.

and so while everyone else carried straight on, we hung a right

and walked to start with along a stretch of road. I suspect we could have stayed on the road, but the Black Line on our Google Map took us (decidedly) off piste,

past (crumbling) farm buildings,

some nice views

through a village called Gorolfe

to the village of Sivil and a very bizarre sight – a scenario of what looked like cattle pulling an ox-cart.

It turned out to be in the garden of a (somewhat bonkers) Pensión called A Fonte das Bodas.

Bonkers or not, beer and coffee were on offer, and so we settled down outside to watch the fun as the lady who managed it bantered with her various guests.

It will take a while before I forgive the group you see in the photo above. During the banter, we heard that they were from Taiwan. My brain leaped upon this and so for the whole of the rest of the walk, I had the 1973 earworm from a group called Dawn: “Taiwan Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree”. Well, I suppose it made a change from the Funeral March from Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony which had accompanied my huffing and puffing up the slopes earlier in the day. I despair at the musical antics of my brain, I really do.

We were nearing Sarria by this stage; just one village to go.

This one was called

and nominative determinism ruled:

“Perros” is Spanish for “Dogs”.

We rejoined the “direct” Camino route, walking along beside the road

and very soon caught sight of Sarria in the distance.

The rest of the walk was a matter of working our way through the outskirts,

climbing 62 steps, called “A Escaleira da fonte”

and making our way past a church with an atmospheric mural

through the town

to our hotel.

We checked in and had a very briskly-dispensed lunch before having a quick wander around to see the sights of Sarria. It’s a quick wander because there aren’t many that we hadn’t already passed: a ruined castle;

a mirador which, to be brutally frank, is even more tree-infested than the Samos one;

an early 20th-century prison building, now an exhibition space;

The Other Church;

and a couple of nice decorative touches.

And that was it, so we had the rest of the day to ourselves, to relax and plan for the morrow.

Sarria has an important part to play in Camino Lore, as it’s just over 100km away from Santiago. Anyone wishing to get the prized Certificate of Distance or Compostela on arrival in Santiago must be able to show that they have travelled at least 100km and got two stamps in their Credenciales each day from places along the way. This means that there are a lot of people starting from Sarria; the people checking in before us at the hotel were prime examples, since they had clearly just arrived in Spain and didn’t actually know how to find or follow the Camino. The receptionist patiently explained about following the yellow arrows and the crowds.

The crowds: this is likely to be a challenge for Jane and me to ~~moan about~~ rise to. Over the last 400+ miles we’ve relished the experience of being largely alone as we walk, almost resenting the presence of other pilgrims. I wonder how we’ll feel with crowds of “bloody amateurs getting in our way.”

The Brierley book cautions against such a patronising attitude; everyone has a right to enjoy the Camino in their own way, and I hope that we can stay positive as we wend our way Santiago-wards.

Today’s stats: Relive credits us with 26.2km, so we have now covered 690.4km, which is 429 miles.

Tomorrow, our destination will be Portomarin, about 22km down the (crowded) road. The weather forecast is, as far as we can tell, good; let’s hope that Accuweather has got things right about that, so that we can stay positive as we elbow our way through the throng. Check back in soon and you’ll find out how we got on.

Camino Day 32 – Ambasmestas to O Cebreiro: a big up to us

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Wednesday 20 September 2023 – We hadn’t too many kilometres to cover today (just the vertical metres in the ascent which I’ve already expatiated on), and the weather forecast showed no meteorological threats, so we didn’t feel the need to rush out. If you’re in a rush, you can view the usual summary of the route and the photos on the Relive video rather than enduring my commentary below.

We departed Ambasmestas at about 0830,

in cool weather with a lot of mist in the hills we were headed for. At first we walked on the road, which led gently upwards past allotments and other crops, such as this quince orchard

and the first village was Vega de Valcarce,

a town somewhat larger than Ambasmestas and with sophisticated touches of civilisation, such as a pharmacy and ATMs. We didn’t stop, but carried on along the road, which carried indications that conditions might not always be benign in these here parts.

Our first stop was at the next village, Las Herrerías,

where we had a quick coffee. Soon afterwards, the road steepened noticeably,

and the Camino route left the road for a track which was steep and stony,

sometimes muddy, and in many places covered in an inconvenient amount of horseshit.

Presumably the horses saw the gradient and crapped themselves. The amount of manure diminished as we ascended, I guess because more and more of the horses using this track were running on empty as they got higher.

We had a welcome break at the next village, La Faba, in a somewhat idiosyncratic albergue-cum-bar.

We pressed on, up the steep track

View up

View back

and passed our first palloza, a traditional style of construction

in this case used only for animals, but – as we shall see later – also built as combined dwellings for humans and shelter for animals.

As you’d expect from climbing up the side of a hill, the views were pretty respectable.

We soon crossed from the province of Castilla y León into Galicia.

and very shortly found ourselves at the outskirts of O Cebreiro, the name of which had been swirling around in my head to the chorus tune of the rugby song version of “John Brown’s Body”. The rugby song is “Oh, Sir Jasper, do not touch me”, sung to the tune of “Glory, glory hallelujah”, and I was getting “O Cebreiro” instead of “Oh, Sir Jasper”. Such is the intellectual level my mind achieves when faced with a steep uphill trek.

O Cebreiro is a sort of living museum

consisting of buildings in the traditional style, including some pallozas. Most of the palloza constructions, one of which was attached to our hotel,

are locked and shuttered, with no public access. One of them, though (top left in the above gallery) is set up as an exhibition space

with someone there to explain which was the space where the animals would live (now a handicraft exhibition area) and, where the kitchen was, and so forth. The leaflet accompanying this palloza describes the style as Celtic, which is a bit of a puzzle for me; yes, there are strong Celtic links in Galicia, but the nearest that Great Britain gets to palloza buildings are iron-age round houses.

An important building in O Cebreiro is the Sanctuary

where a daily mass is held, and outside which is a bust of one Don Elías Valiña Sampedro (1929-1989).

He was the pastor of O Cebreiro until his death and was almost single-handedly responsible for the revival of the Camino as a pilgrimage route, organising the clearing of parts of the route that had become impassable and instigating the system of yellow painted arrows that guide pilgrims at critical points along the way; an important man in the Camino world.

We had a very engaging lunch in the O Cebreiro restaurant, which involved tasting the local hooch

in the company of some boisterous Italians. Afterwards we found that the rather misty weather had improved to the point where I could use my drone to take some aerial pictures.

The Sanctuary

Today’s stats, then. I think Relive added some unnecessary wanderings in its recording, so I’m taking Jane’s MapMyRun figure of 14.3km as the distance we covered today, giving us a total of 642.5km – half a mile short of 400 miles in total. Garmin credits us with a total ascent of 817m, which includes some going up having gone down a bit; we started at 609m and finished at 1300m above sea level. My knee gave me no trouble at all, I’m glad to say.

The weather outlook tomorrow is rather uncertain. We’ll probably get wet at some stage. We also have to descend quite sharply, back down some 700m, as we head to Triacastela, about 21km away. Here’s hoping that the way down is less horrific than the ghastly Molinaseca approach we suffered a few days ago. I will, of course, report back, so please return to find out how it went.

Camino Day 31 – Villafranca to Ambasmestas: a mist opportunity

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Tuesday 19 September 2023 – The transit into Galicia is the third and final Big Climb of the Camino. Day 1 – crossing the Pyrenees – has the largest vertical ascent of 1428m. Days 27 and 28 between them take the weary pilgrim up 735m to the highest point on the Camino. We have in front of us tomorrow the prospect of quite a steep ascent to O Cebreiro. Today, the task was to get to ~~Asbestos~~ Ambasmestas (for some reason, this is the village name which has consistently given us the most difficulty in recalling it). As many people would say, absolutely enraging me in the process, there are two choices.

NO!

There is ONE choice, between TWO alternatives, OK? Is that clear?

So, a steady ascent, or a longer route with a hill in it (quite a big one, actually – check out the axes and the vertical totals)?

The Steve Walker of a year ago – or even two months ago, come to think of it – would have dismissed any suggestion of taking the right-hand route as coming from someone of unsound mind. The Steve Walker of today, however, gammy knee and all, was game for the hilly route.

That, mind you, is because the Steve Walker of today has been unable, despite 30 days of practice, to translate from graphs such as the above to an accurate understanding of what’s involved.

You can get the usual summary of route and photos from this Relive video.

We set off at 0830 into a cool, clear morning, bidding farewell to Villafranca as we crossed the medieval bridge.

At the decision point between the routes my attention was distracted by having to avoid a couple of cyclists and before I knew properly what I was doing, I was toiling up a path that was much, much steeper than I had thought it would be.

The view up

The view down

I paused to take a valedictory photo of the view across Villafranca

and to unship my walking poles, unused for over two weeks since we exited Castrojeriz on September 3, just a couple of days after we left Burgos. They made the rest of the ascent a great deal easier, and it was actually quite gratifying to note that both of us were still capable of managing a pretty stiff climb without actually finding it unpleasant.

To start with, there was quite a lot in common with our Day 1 climb

but as we ground our way up the hill we gradually emerged from the mist because we rose above the clouds. This gave us another wonderful set of views.

The path eventually levelled out

and entered a landscape of chestnut trees

which went on for some considerable distance

including departing from this optional trail and striking out along a faintly-discernable track between the trees.

Eventually, and inevitably, we reached and passed the highest point and had to make our way down.

The path down was, if anything, steeper than the ascent, and was quite demanding, but nowhere near as unpleasant as the hideously rocky drop into Molinaseca that had made my knee question my fitness for this whole thing; indeed I was glad to note that my knee seemed able to cope with both today’s ascent and descent. There were decent descent views to distract me.

The one thing that this route option didn’t have was any chance of a refreshment stop whilst on the hill. So it was nice to come into range of Trabadelo

which offered many possibles for a coffee. This being Spain and the time by this stage being nearly midday, of course most of them were closed. But we wandered determinedly about until we found the municipal albergue which also featured an open bar, and got ourselves outside juice (Jane) and beer (me) and crisps (both of us).

By this stage we had joined the other route option, which was a long and steady, but gentle, climb. (Incidentally, a friend of ours who walked the Camino last year and who took the road route out of Villafranca, commented that it was really dull, which merely increases my smug satisfaction at our route choice. Sorry, Karin!)

You’ll have noted the motorway in pictures above; the path took us underneath it,

and basically followed the river Valcarce upstream beside the road that the motorway had largely rendered redundant and which was therefore pleasantly quiet.

I’d hate to meet the spider that wove this web

We passed motorway services

on the way into the village of Portela, which, although it had its crumbly bits

was in surprisingly good shape.

It featured one mystery vignette,

as well as a rather charming Ermita With No Name

and a restaurant engagingly called “Rock and Roll Pizza”.

From there it was a short and pleasant walk

to ~~Abstemious~~ Ambasmestas

which is somewhat overshadowed by the passing A6

which is the motorway taking traffic from Castilla y León into Galicia.

And Galicia is our target tomorrow, via O Cebreiro, which looks like being a stiff climb of about half as much again as we ascended today.

The consolation is that there are three villages along the route and the profound hope is that the potential business model, of hordes of pilgrims looking for a rest and refreshment stop, will encourage at least one establishment to be open in each place. If not, then I think we’ll still have proved to ourselves that we can do the climb; but it would be nice to arrive in the least grumpy frame of mind possible.

Today’s stats. We ascended a total of 620m in a distance of 17.8km (there was some extra as we searched for ~~beer~~ refreshments). So we have now covered a total of 628.2km, a smidge over 390 miles.

The forecast for tomorrow seems currently not to involve rain, but I think it’ll be quite cool at the top, maybe 15°C, with something of a breeze. We’ll be spending the night at O Cebreiro in some interesting-looking accommodation. If weather permits, I hope to be able to get the drone up to take some aerial photos. If you return to these pages, you’ll find out whether I was successful or not.