Even though it was a short day, it felt like the toughest.
I left just before 8am saying goodbye to Captain Pilgrim and getting a selfie with him. It was slightly misty, and the moisture in the air collected in my beard.
The path started out on soft gravel but that soon turned to tarmac. That was it for rest of the day. Hard ground to walk on.
At 3km outside a cafe I spotted Captain Pilgrim’s bike. I went in for breakfast. “You walk fast!”
From there it was a steady downhill on the roadside. The scenery wasn’t really inspiring, mostly in trees or past small farms.
At 12km my legs and feet needed a break from the pounding on the asphalt, and a cold drink at the bar in Pereiras was calling me.
The road then took me into a large industrial estate, with lorries thundering past me, making any road crossings like ‘Frogger’.
A short climb brought me into Ourense’s outskirts. The vast town nestled in the valley. On my way in more evidence of wildfires were present. The city also barely escaping the flames.
I entered the city centre, a hive of activity, people everywhere. Bit of a shock to the system having spent the last 5 days in solitude.
I found the albergue before it opened. I ordered a cold drink at the bar waiting for it to open. First and only to arrive. I was hoping there would be pilgrims, as the variant route rejoins the Sanabrés here.
I took a stroll around the city centre to scout out somewhere for food. At a bar I decided to book my stay in Santiago to find the ‘Seminario Menor’ that I usually stop at to be full. I secured a bed in another albergue, but the prices have gone crazy this year £48!
The hill wasn’t as bad as my drunken friend last night portrayed. A day of great views and surprisingly, a few watering holes along the way.
At 7am I dropped the albergue keys off at the ambulance station then hit the Camino. For the first 1.5 hours it was flat, mostly road walking.
Once at Tamícelas the up hill section began. I managed to get to it before the sun crested the surrounding mountains. When it finally did, I was near the top and above the clouds.
The views were some of the best since entering Galicia. Before I knew it, I was entering Alberguería. The bar was open – although no proper food, they sold cakes and fruit. Every available space on the walls and ceiling were covered in scallop shells, signed by visiting pilgrims – the oldest one I saw was 2004!
A slight rise took me to the highest point for the day, then it was a sharp downwards route revealing the wide open valley below.
My knees were complaining when I reached Vilar de Barrío. The village centre had numerous bars with all the outside seating taken. I continued on.
Bóveda, a village a short stroll away had a bar with plenty of space. A cold drink and an empanada later I pressed on. The sun was now at full strength and the route entered a long straight gravel road.
For about 4km I baked, but the route after that went through forest tracks, shaded from the sun. After 34km I arrived at the albergue, shortly after joined by a cyclist peregrino – the first pilgrim I have seen since Rionegro.
We found a restaurant that had a pilgrims menu. Turns out he is a captain in the Spanish navy. He has been cycling from Cadiz and in two days he’ll be in Santiago.
Tomorrow is a short 21km, which I am pleased for. I have pulled some long distances in the last 4 days. I’ll also be in a town, and hopefully some more peregrinos.
A whole day in the mountains of Galicia, with rolling green hills as far as the eye could see. The best thing of all, it was a very gentle ascent.
The alarm didn’t have a chance, I was up at 5.50am. I decided to get ready and head off. A complete different experience to last nights albergue. I was out the door just before 7.
Once out of the town it was pitch black requiring the head torch. I was passing a small holding and heard a rustle to my left. In the torchlight I saw two eyes glowing and a muzzle. Could this be the Iberian wolf? No, it barked, it was just a farm dog.
By the time the daylight arrived I had gone beyond yesterday’s flame grilled earth and amongst the mountains. The route followed a road high above the huge reservoir ‘Portas’.
The only issue was, it was tarmac walking. In fact, I reckon 90% of today was by road. My feet took a beating, but it was worth it for the views.
Again I was in no rush. I was soaking in the silence and peace. Apart from the sound of my footsteps and the occasional bird. There was nothing to be heard.
At Bolaño I stopped at a picnic bench overlooking the rolling hills. I had done 13km and felt the need for some snacks. It was bliss.
A gradual decline along the road giving great views of the reservoir got me to Campobecerros, with the promise of a cold drink and food. Unfortunately only the former was on offer.
A short up climb through Portocamba finally took me off the road onto a forest gravel track. It hugged the mountain side with constant views of the valley to my right.
Each corner had picturesque scenery. At ‘As Eiras’ I was back on the road for the last 6km into Laza. Known for its festival where the villagers wear huge hats with animals painted on them.
I had to check in at the ambulance station for the albergue; getting the keys to the building. Again I’ll be the only peregrino stopping the night – this is now day 4 without seeing a pilgrim.
Chores done I had a walk around the village. The shop closed at 2.30pm and the restaurant didn’t open until 6pm. I went for a siesta.
At 6 I went in search for a beer. Everything was still closed except for a small back alley taberna. An inebriated Spaniard was propping up the bar. Tattoos all down his arms, neck and knuckles. Hooped earrings.
I had already entered. I ordered a caña. Impressed I went for a big beer, he struck up a conversation. This really put my pigeon Spanish to the test.
90% of what he said – no idea. But what I did get, he is visiting his mum. Lives in Switzerland. Loves heavy heavy metal music and gave me the low down for tomorrow’s stage.
I then asked him about somewhere to eat. He took me to a local restaurant that is open! One not on google maps. I bought him a drink for his time.
The Camino magic didn’t stop there. This weekend there is a tradition where local singers bring their instruments to bars and serenade the patrons.
After some food I retired for the night. Tomorrow’s stage is a tough one.
It was a little spooky to say the least last night. Alone in an albergue that has lights dangling by the wires and sockets hanging from the fittings. Coupled with being in the middle of rural Spain and owls hooting outside – I’m sure I’ve seen a horror film like this?!
At 7.30am I was power walking back on the Camino before someone wears my skin for a coat. It was a gentle down hill start for a couple of kilometres before a long steep ascent. The path wound up through the woods, thankfully it was easier than yesterday.
At the top I crossed into Galicia. It felt like coming home. The biggest hill of the day conquered, light cloud cover and a down hill stretch on soft gravel paths – perfect.
I ambled along in no rush, after all it’s a short 23km today. I reached the tiny hamlet of A Canda. That’s when I was taken by surprise.
The green lichen covered trees were replaced by charred black stalks – the aftermath of August’s wildfires. The fields around were black, trees with soot stained trunks clung onto brown dead leafs, giving an odd autumnal effect.
There were small pockets where nature had survived the carnage – green islands in a sea of black. This was the scenery for the next 15km into A Gudiña.
I passed a few small villages miraculously still intact. literally the scorched earth stopped at the stone farm walls at the village borders.
The path was easy to follow, the soft yellow gravel was stark to the blackened earth. The route undulated over what I can only guess were fells. I got to a high point, giving panoramic views of the devastation.
It was black all the way to the surrounding mountains. I’ve never seen such destruction in person before. You don’t get the same scope or feeling from the news reels.
I continued on as the clouds dispersed leaving me no shade from the sun. It got very hot, something weirdly fitting for my environs.
But nature, ever the resilient. Merendera started to grow from the charred ground. This hardy flower seems to grow in places you wouldn’t think possible. A plant I saw often on the Francés, and one I took as a good omen.
At 1.30pm I arrived at my destination for the day – looks like I’ll be having this Albergue to myself again, although this one is operated by the local authority. A complete polar opposite to last nights.
It’s all modern and clean. Even has washing machines! The hospitalera said there were only three peregrinos last night – the 3 Spaniards I spotted in the guest book at Lubián.
It was tough today with some steep climbs, navigating a collapsed bridge and a lot of road walking – I reckon 50% of today was on tarmac.
I was on the route at 7am. I wanted to be in the woodlands around this time in the hope I could catch a glimpse of the Iberian Wolf. They are active at dawn and dusk – they are crepuscular (bet you didn’t know there was a word for animals being active at those times.)
The streets were dark and finding the arrows was difficult, I used Gronze Maps to keep on track. It led up to the castle and down a dirt path requiring the head torch. However I was stopped in my tracks by building works.
I had to return and descend the hundreds of steps down to the road below – pilgrims don’t like steps. I followed the road for a few kilometres before getting to the woodlands – I didn’t see any wolves.
The path joined the road again, and it went on forever. The mountains in front were slowly turning golden as the sun was rising.
Eventually it veered off and ascended through a small woodland to Terroso. I had covered 10km, and needed a break. I parked myself outside the small church to the village and munched on some chocolate digestives.
It was back on forrest trails until Requejo de Sanabria. I called into a cafe for a Kas limón before continuing. On the way out I passed a sculpture with a poem on it.
The first line is “you like the solitude, you want to be the protagonist of this Camino” definitely sums these couple of stages – I haven’t seen another pilgrim since leaving Rionegro!
It was back into the forest that led to the feet of the two huge flyovers built for the high speed train. This was where the fun started. The arrows sort of, went rogue.
A hastily painted one was on a crash barrier, then on the floor fence posts had been arranged into an arrow pointing up the service road to the tunnel entrance for the rail.
About halfway up this steep road, something didn’t feel right. I looked to my left across the river to see the white concrete way markers. I pulled out the app. I had passed a turn off that leads to the path between the two towering flyovers.
I backtracked down to join it, only to come to a sign prohibiting passage. The small wooden bridge had collapsed on the other side, leaving a waist high concrete wall. I wasn’t going to turn around and find an alternative way.
Tentatively I crossed. It held me. I placed both my hands on the ledge – I probably should have taken off my pack. With an unceremonious jump, I rolled on the path, righting myself onto all fours – just as well I’m the solo protagonist of this Camino, saved me the embarrassment of anyone seeing me.
The reason for the weird markings came apparent. There must have been flooding at some point as the banks where the route below led, looked washed away, and probably the bridge as well.
The path then led to a ruined building and through the gate a yellow arrow pointed the way, so did Gronze maps. My Camino senses were tingling again. I passed through the gate that gave access to the train tunnel.
I went back to the ruins and followed an unkempt path around the rear. This lead to a small suspension bridge over the river. Warning signs for no more than two people on it at once.
Once I stepped on, I understood why. It had to be the most bounciest bridge ever made, like bouncy castle bouncy! After catapulting to the other side it was a brutal up hill climb.
The route zigzagged upwards on paths that weren’t well maintained. It was the hardest climb so far on the Sanabrés. The arrows had disappeared and were replaced with yellow tipped posts.
It was hard going. I turned one zag to come face to face with a cow. It immediately scarpered up the path, pausing every now and then to check if I was still there.
I finally emerged from the tree line at the top to see the valley I had just ascended. It was then back to road walking into Padornelo. I called into the bar for a cold drink and a generous portion of tortilla y patata. It had just started to rain and the temperature had dropped, the Camino was telling me to take a break.
By the time I rejoined the way, the rain had subsided, although I kept my coat on as it was chilly. Following the road around a few precarious bends brought me back to forest paths.
This time it was a lot more gentle, and it had warmed up. I removed my jacket to see a hand painted sign on the tree opposite “Atención Abejas”. The first word is self explanatory, but the second? I looked in the field opposite. It was full of hives – Bees! There’s another word added to my vocabulary.
The route meandered into Aciberos where the arrows disappeared. Luckily an elderly gentleman was getting into his car and shouted “Ruta de Peregrino” and point in the direction I needed to go.
Back on winding forest paths and a couple more short but steep climbs got me into Lubián. I passed the ruins of old buildings; on the lintel to one door it had “1709” etched into it. The walls may still stand but the Amazon jungle resided within.
A short walk from there I arrived at the albergue. First to arrive – I would be, I’ve not seen a fellow pilgrim all day!
A little oddity I’ve experienced on the Sanabrés, is they leave the Albergue’s open and the hospitaleros appear at a set time – in this one, between 7pm and 7.30pm.
As far as Albergue’s go, this isn’t a good one. Very tired, which would explain the 5€ price! It had a hot shower and a bed, you don’t need more.
Chores done I went to the local bar, a couple of drinks later I returned to the albergue and it’s just me for the night. I returned to the bar for the pilgrims menu.
It had been a day of challenges and a little further than I’d expected. It’s also going to be weird spending the night alone in an albergue.
This was my last full day in Castilla, tomorrow I cross into Galicia.
It was a tough day and had the first rain on this Camino. There was a headwind for most the day under brooding skies to add to the difficulty.
I was the first to leave the albergue not waiting for the cafe to open at 8.30am. I knew I had a long trek ahead. I said goodbye to my fellow peregrinos, potentially the last time I’d see them.
The skies were purple and windy, I could feel a change in the weather approaching. The mountains on the horizon had rain clouds moving across the peaks – the direction I was going.
The route passed through grasslands that ran along side the highway. As I entered Mombuey a rainbow arched over the town to greet me – I got a contender for the best picture of this Camino.
I called into Spar for some fruit and juice to munch on throughout the day and stopped at a bar for a Kas Limón. Then it was back on the trail.
I followed the road for a short while before walking along a long straight wide gravel forest road into Cernadilla. The dark rain clouds were getting closer and I could feel the moisture on the air.
It was road walking for next few kilometres until San Salvador de Palazuelo, marking my half way point for the day. I sat outside the church to have my packed lunch and relax my legs.
An up hill climb, the biggest for the day followed, leading into forest paths all the way to Asturianos. As I entered the rain finally arrived. It felt like the Camino was telling me to stay at the albergue here and await the arrival of my friends. But I need to get into Santiago on the 20th – I can’t afford to take short stages.
I put on my waterproof coat and backpack cover and continued on. Minutes later the rain stopped and it remained cloudy. The route stuck to forest paths and I was still the only one on the Camino – I kept startling deers on the path.
I crossed the 30km point, breaking the back of this day. I trudged on; my feet feeling a little tired, my legs had fallen out with me. I just breathed in the solitude and stillness of my surroundings to keep my mind of them.
I emerged from the woods at Otero de Sanabria. A quiet little hamlet. It would be a great location for an albergue, as Puebla de Sanabria doesn’t have any. It would be a popular one with it being just shy of the stage end.
I took 5 mins to give my legs a rest and continued on for the last 8km – it was all road walking from that point. The sun at least had come out to cheer me along.
The kilometres passed by, and soon Sanabria was in sight. A huge castle and church dominate the hill overlooking the town. There were signs boasting the towns biodiversity. Otters live in the river and Iberian wolves reside in the surrounding woodlands.
I crossed the bridge entering the old town and found my hotel for the night. 42km covered today, so perhaps a well deserved luxury of my own hotel room.
Despite the long distance it was a rewarding day. I had the whole stage to myself. I felt immersed in the solitude of nature and good to get a 40k plus day done.
I left at dawn passing through the village following a dirt path. It was chilly, cold enough to put my jumper on. I walked with Tania talking about her life living “off grid” in Australia.
The views weren’t too great, the route passed by quarries, with Large trucks thundering by kicking up plumes of dust.
I pulled ahead and after a while the route joined a forest track leaving behind the industrial excavation and HGVs.
After 11km I reached Calzadilla de Tera for the promised cafe stop. I couldn’t find it, and while probing google maps on my phone Tania caught up.
According to the map the nearest bar was in Olleros de Tera, and with the directions from a local we proceeded to the village along an irrigation canal.
We trudged through the quiet streets, feeling drained. We had done 13km with no breaks. We pulled up to the cafe to find it’s closed on Tuesdays. There was nothing for it, we had to keep moving. According to Gronze the next place for food was Rionegro – another 14km.
I left Tania who wanted rest and continued on. The route followed a single track road to an old church being renovated before heading off into shrubland. At this point my left calf began to hurt. I couldn’t tell if it was cramp or something more. When on the Camino, you just have to grin and bear it.
The path wound through the shrubland in the shadow of a dam, before winding up a mesa to join the road that crossed it.
From there it hugged the shore. I found a shaded spot to rest and have a drink. As I was strapping my bag back on, Tania caught up with me.
Together we walked into Villar de Farfón. There were signs promising drinks – blue painted wooden signs. We reached a small Albergue with 4 beds. They had a donativo refreshments operation.
It is owned by a family of South Africans, who rebuilt it from ruins. Their only purpose to serve pilgrims. If I wasn’t on a time table, I would have stopped there.
Daniel was already here and planned to spend the night. He had come down with a cold and was taking it easy.
This is likely to be our last meeting. I wished him farewell and continued on with Tania. The blue signs erected by the South Africans took us all the way into Rionegro.
The path was much more picturesque, and a beautiful end to the day. Once at Rionegro, we joined Benita at the albergue. One that would accommodate 4 times our group.
Marcus and George soon arrived. We had some drinks at the adjacent bar then moved on to a restaurant that gave a pilgrims menu. I’ve never had a pilgrims menu like this.
It was gourmet stuff. Four course meal with wine and liquor. All for 15€. We were very spoilt. The chef had clearly been trained, just by the way he cooked and presented the dishes.
Today has shown the nature of the journey. The Camino taketh and it giveth. A long hard 28km without food and a brief cold drink with the South Africans. Then after the hardship, a full on gourmet feast.
Tomorrow I’ll be pulling a 40km. Leaving behind my new friends, fortunate for them, they’re not on a clock. I’ll now be catching the coat tails of the wave of pilgrims in front.
Great night sleep, and I owe it to my new addition for this year – an eye mask. The street light shone through the window opposite me.
A quick breakfast at 7am and I hit the road, the last to leave the albergue. I soon caught up with Tania, who I walked with for the first couple of kilometres.
The moon was full and present as the sky slowly brightened. It was a little chilly with my hands feeling slightly sore, but I resisted my gloves.
It was glorious walking, out in the middle of the Castilian countryside. At one point I was on a small plain, with golden grasslands surrounding me and trees interspersed to the distant hills. It felt like another world.
I paused to take in the silence, the faint chirp from a bird somewhere was all I could hear. It was just beautiful. I stood for 5 minutes or so, appreciating the serenity.
I continued on. A group of cycling peregrinos doing the via de la plata whizzed by, shouting ¡Buen Camino!
Around the next bend I caught them up, a chain had fallen off one of the bikes. They really tested my Spanish, but I managed to have a simple conversation.
Pressing on, the grasslands gave way to shrubs and the charred remains of trees stretched out before me. There had been a wild fire here at some point, but not recent with all the greenery about.
I took an easy pace today, I felt no need to hurry or keep to my usual stride. The tranquility of my surroundings was inviting me to slow down.
Eventually I came to the fork in the road. Taking the advice of the hospitalero, I took the left path to Villanueva de las Peras – this had a bar for a rest stop.
I ordered my first tortilla y potata of this Camino – I was fantasising about a slice all morning. I was soon joined by Tania and Lisardo.
Fuelled up I continued on, leaving the small village and back into the countryside. I reached the only serious hill of the day, skirting around numerous bodegas, now converted into small holiday homes.
Before long I was on top of a mesa following another rich red-brown dirt path for several kilometres before descending into Santa Croya, where I stopped at a bar for a drink, joining Lisardo.
I called into a little convenience store to get something for dinner – Santa Marta doesn’t have a shop nor bar, and the albergue doesn’t offer a communal meal. There wasn’t a lot on offer and I settled for a microwaveable paella. Disappointingly, there wasn’t any fresh veg to cook up anything more substantial.
A short kilometre over the river I was at Santa Marta, settling in to the donativo albergue next to the monastery.
I was asleep the instant my head hit the pillow – it had been a long day. I was out the door at 8.30am heading back to the bus stop, but my luck with the public transport hadn’t changed. There was only one bus to Granja de Moreruela, and it leaves at 4pm.
I had to bite the bullet and get a taxi – my last resort. 20 minutes later and 60€ lighter, I was in Granja.
31 hours after leaving London! It took me less time to get to Japan!
Thankfully for the next 14 days I won’t be having to rely on wheeled transport, just my two feet.
Setting off it was overcast and a cool breeze made it perfect for walking. Within minutes I was in the Castilian countryside. Red-brown dirt and rolling golden plains as far as the eye can see – it brought me right back to the meseta on the Francés.
I had the whole Camino to myself, having begun so late, but I was loving it. A welcomed peace from the previous 31hours of chaos.
No sound but the wind and songbirds chirping amongst the trees – so good to back on the Camino!
In the distance I could see a lone pilgrim making his way along the long straight dirt path in front. I had a quick pace knowing I had 25km to do today, with the late start.
I soon caught him up. Lisardo had been walking since April following the Lavante, which starts in Valencia! He is heading for Tabara, with a buen Camino, I said I’ll see him there.
The route leads to the Rio Esla where you cross a narrow bridge. It felt precarious, there wasn’t a lot of room if you came across a car. Luckily I didn’t meet one – perhaps it’s changing?
Once on the other side it follows the cliff face along the banks that involved a tiny bit of scrambling. Then came the only hill of the day, a short climb but nothing too strenuous.
From there the trail winds through wild grass lands, before reaching agricultural fields. Long straight dirt paths stretched to the horizon. Typical of the pictures you see for the Camino.
After 18km without a stop I reached the small village of Faramontanos de Tábara. I stopped for a quick snack from my rucksack and continued on. As I was leaving a met Lorenzo from Italy. He could only speak Italian and Spanish, so I put my pigeon Spanish to the test.
He is walking the Via de la Plata and started in Seville at the beginning of August. Soon we came up to one of his friends, Daniel from Serbia – he could speak English. Making full use of google translate we made our way into Tábara, finishing the day at the Donitvo Albergue.
There I met Benita from Germany and Tania from Australia. Benita had started in Zamora and Tania in Salamanca.
Once showered and pilgrim chores done, I wondered back into the town for a drink and an empanada.
At 8pm we all sat down for a communal meal, gazpacho followed by rice and veg. The hospitalero gave us advice for the next stage before opening a box that we each picked a card from.
Mine said “When we say the Camino is like our own life, we should say that our life is like the Camino, since our life is an ongoing pilgrimage”
Not the ideal start to this years Camino. The train down to Gatwick was running 20mins late but with no rush to be at the accommodation I’d booked, I just went with the flow.
I had booked an en-suite in a guest house, 20 min walk from the airport. I dumped my stuff and went into Horley, the little town nearby for a pint. I stopped at a lively pub for one before moving onto the more rustic pub ‘Ye Olde Six Bells’
A couple of drinks and some food I returned to my digs as it would be a 2.30am start.
I made my way through the dark streets, none of the lamps were on – luckily I had my head torch. Soon I was at the airport checking in my backpack, to find my flight had been delayed by 2 hours!
This was a spanner in the works. This meant I wouldn’t be able to get the train I planned for, that would allow me to get into Zamora before the last bus to Granja de Moreruela – the starting point of the Sanabrés.
It was a long 4 hours waiting around in the terminal. The plane didn’t take off until 8.30am – 2.5 hours behind!
Once through border control, I beelined to the train station to find all the later trains were full. I felt like I was in ‘Race Across the World’, changing my plans on the fly.
I tried the bus companies, and there was only space available on the 6.45pm one. This meant I’d get into Zamora at 10.15pm – defo will miss the bus to Granja.
Being that late to arrive, no albergue will accept me, which meant I had to fork out for a hotel room. On the plus side I now had the afternoon in Madrid.
I took a stroll around the ‘Parque de El Retiro’. Soaking in the sun, the many fountains and monuments. I grabbed a cold drink from a stall and found a shaded bench.
I then moved on towards the bus station calling into a supermarket for some food while I wait. Stopping at a small park near the station to eat.
Keeping with the theme, the bus was an hour late, meaning I arrived in Zamora 11.20pm way after Check-in.
Luckily the hotel gave me the door code so I could check myself in. It had been a long day.
Stu's Camino 