Saturday 4 May 2024 – Star Wars Day, no less, and we woke up to find that the force was emphatically not with us for the moment; yesterday’s deluge had continued overnight and showed no sign of abating.
We’d decided that our options were (a) wait until the afternoon to see if the rain abated and walk the remaining 5.5km to our next hotel or (b) take a taxi. We decided that plan A was preferred and so settled ourselves down in the hotel’s bar, which was quite lively, to see if we could wait out the rain.
As well as read the papers, we occasionally checked various weather forecasting websites, all of which agreed that the morning would be a write-off, hiking-wise, but offered varying amounts of optimism for the afternoon. It was supposed to rain solidly until midday, but actually it didn’t; there was a short period when the skies cleared and the rain stopped.
We noticed a bunch of peregrinos across the road and it turned out that they were waiting for a bus. At around 11am, one duly turned up and they all boarded it – its destination was, ultimately, Finisterre, so these had obviously decided that discretion was the better part of valour; their choice was vindicated as the rains swept in again and carried on relentlessly. (Later on we perused the bus timetable on the reception desk, only to find that there was one bus per day and that had been it!). Every so often I’d look up, wondering if things had improved weather-wise – but the rain was still lashing down.
Around about 2pm, we were (a) beginning to wonder if the forecasters had got it wrong and (b) hungry, so we had lunch – a tuna-and-tomato concoction and lentil soup, both of which were delicious. Our starting lunch was, of course, the signal for the rain to ease, and so immediately we’d finished eating we decided that we should just jolly well get on with it, rather than wimping out by taking a taxi. We set out on the short walk to Olveiroa, the next town along, and I have to say that it felt good to be out walking, even the short distance we would cover. I took a couple of valedictory photos of the area by the hotel, where, for some reason, there were a couple of cow statues
and many interesting examples of a pollarding technique whereby individual branches had been curled around to meet neighbouring branches, and fused in with them.
Then we set off, in weather conditions that I bet the Galicians have a word for – something between fog, drizzle and light rain.
Since our route was simply walking along the road between the two towns, I wasn’t expecting there to be anything worth photographing; but actually I was wrong. There wasn’t a plethora of scenes, but one or two things caught our attention as we went. For example, there were many fine stone-built horreos on display.
including, near our destination, a magnificent specimen.
There was another example of the pollarding technique we saw in the town.
There was one odd (now apparently abandoned) house, on stilts
and we wondered what the thinking was behind the design. I suppose it might have been to keep the building away from the ground to avoid rising damp? But none of the other buildings around had this design. Though avoiding damp must be a local imperative, given our experience of the last couple of days. I’m quite impressed with the general capability of the land and the drainage to cope with the deluge we’d seen in the previous 24 hours – basically, things were just wet and there was very little indication of the amount of rain we’d had. Except in a couple of places, where even ploughed fields coudn’t cope with the volume of water that had fallen out of the sky.
The rain actually completely stopped after a while, and when we got to Olveiroa
we were even confident enough in the clemency of the weather to stop for a quick coffee (OK, and a tactical stamp for our credenciales to ensure that we got the required two stamps a day for our Compostela at the far end). And shortly thereafter, we reached our hotel for the night, the very charming Pension As Pias.
We were greeted warmly by the proprietors who gave us a welcoming chunk of tortilla which we decided should be consumed in the bar, accompanied by G&T and writing up of the day so far. It’s an interesting bar
(note the wonderful bar stools!) with a great view over no fewer than three tidy horreos
and it’s clear that the owners have put a lot of thought – and whimsy – into the decor. There are many nice touches – photos on the ceilings, odd bits of farm machinery as bar furniture and so forth, and bar tables that add to the gaiety of the place.
The restaurant was crowded and buzzing at lunchtime and it looks to be a generally popular and well-run place.
The village, too, is interesting – tiny but photogenic, with another church-surrounded-by-cemetery
and more horreos than you can shake a stick at.
And so to tomorrow: we have just two more days before we reach Finisterre, and our destination tomorrow is the seaside town of Corcubion, some 19km away. The weather outlook is for some showers (well, there’s a suprise!) but we should be able to arrive there somewhat less bedraggled than we were when we got to Mazaricos. Come back to these pages in due course, and you’ll find out how it all went.
