Tag Archives: Vanagandr

Camino Finisterre Day 10: Quintáns to Dumbria – Just another day’s walking

Friday 11 May 2024 – After yesterday’s auspicious return to the act of actual walking, I was a little concerned that the burger I ate yesterday evening might hurl my digestion back into the inferno and dampen (possibly literally) my propects of repeating the exercise today.  My fears went unrealised and so we were able to set out soon after 9am after, it has to be said, a rather meagre breakfast at La Plaza. No matter, the weather was cool and the prospects for rain were nil – a delightful combination for a 13km walk.

It was a misty morning as we left Quintáns,

and it continued to be misty and cool as we continued,

with the hint of rain in the air. Rain would have been very unwelcome, as I had, rather optimistically, packed all my waterproofs in the suitcase. But we had nothing more than a hint of moisture in the air, so my decision was vindicated – all of 200 grams weight saved!

The day’s walk was like many we had during our Camino Francés – very pleasant but with nothing that marked it out as exceptional – just this day, you know? But I was very happy to be out and walking, even if I had less energy for the uphill sections than I had yesterday; there were a couple of Steep Bits, for which I was very glad to have my poles.

So, what did we pass that was worthy of comment? Well, continuing evidence of Eucalyptus exploitation, of course. This patch had been logged, and the stumps very neatly plucked from the ground.

Among the young and teenaged Eucalyptus which bedevilled the landscape were some older specimens. This one was nicely bedecked by moss, which was trying its version of cultural integration.

We found a tiny pilgrim clinging grimly to a wall.

The countryside was attractive, if a bit shrouded in mist,

but walking conditions were great, so we didn’t mind. The village of A Grixa provided a few little vignettes: a lavadoiro

a high street cluttered with horreos;

and displaying some nice mural work.

The next village, Vilastose, provided some rabbits,

and a church, Iglesia de San Cibrán de Vilastose, whose cemetery had different markers to the ones we saw yesterday.

As we walked on, the skies began to clear and at last we had

a little sunshine – weak at first, but well-established soon after. It never became oppressively warm, just nice to be walking in.

As we approached a village called Trasufre, we passed an abandoned house

which was rather practically being used as the container for a bonfire.

(It really was that, and not an incipient wildfire – we saw the chap tending it.) Generally, we passed a lot of fields and patches of land that had been ploughed over, possibly ready for this year’s crops, but most were roughly turned over.  This one struck us as being the neatest bit of turning-over one could wish to see.

Trasufre itself had a high street just littered with horreos.

After Trasufre, we came to another Steep Bit

which again led through largely Eucalyptus plantations.

We emerged from the woods close to Dumbria, near which was our destination for the day.

In the town itself, there’s a school with a rather attractive fence around it,

and a town hall with some interesting figures outside.

The four figures each bear text telling the story of the different development stages of the area: indigenous/immigrant; megalithic (3,500 – 4000 BC), Castros (5th – 2nd century BC) and Romans; the Middle Ages, including the evolution of the Camino; and the 19th century onwards.

Just after that was a bar, and it was open. We only had a couple of kilometres to go, but then, Jane wanted an ice cream. So what were we to do but to take a break?

The remaining couple of kilometres offered us some very neat topiary

and a church, Iglesia de Santa Baia de Dumbría, which had its own pink signpost, so I suppose must have had some historic significance, although I haven’t been able to establish what.

I’d show you more, but there was a sodding great tent set up in front of it

which, from the sound of things some hours later, was to be the site of the town fiesta or some such; we’re currently a few hundred metres downwind of whatever’s going on, and it appears to involve loud music and a lot of shouting. So nice to see (hear!) the people enjoying themselves.

The church itself has some nice stonework on its façade,

and the square has some of those linked-pollarded trees we saw in Mazaricos.

On the home straight to our accommodation, we passed a very unusual sight – a new-build horreo.

This looks to be made from concrete, or some kind of composite – it has an almost 3D-printed  perfection about it. Note also that the end face is not a smooth surface, but has pillars with the face sunken behind them.  I’m not sure what the story is, here. It is illegal to destroy horreos in Galicia and many of them (particularly the ones not entirely made of stone) are in disrepair and crumbling; but what’s the idea behind creating a new one? Eh? Anwer me that, then.

Our final vignette before reaching our accommodation was a shepherd with his small flock of sheep.

He was walking around testing the ground – perhaps worried about damp patches and the possible consequence of foot rot for the sheep? Or searching for one which had been claimed by the marshes?

Very soon after, we arrived at Casa A Pinchona,

which, after slightly more minutes of standing in front of a stubbornly locked door than was entirely comfortable, proved to be an excellent guest house.  We had a nice, and satisfactorily late, lunch, accompanied by the very fine Vanagandr gin that we’d first encountered when we were in Santiago last Autumn.

So, here I am, sitting in a pleasant post-lunch haze and overlooking a sunlit and bucolic riverside scene, bringing you up to date on what has been an enjoyable day, even if it hasn’t taken the sum of human knowledge forward in any meaningful way. Tomorrow, our destination is Mazaricos, where we stayed on our outward journey. The complications of its not being actually on the Camino Finisterre path gives us some planning to do as to how to get there and how thence to return to the Camino; but the quickest and simplest route to it is about a 13km walk, so we’ll probably elect to do that. There are several options as to how we carry on from Mazaricos, and we’ll have to seee how we feel. On that note of uncertainty, I leave you; you’ll have to keep an eye on these pages in order to find out What Happened Next.