Day 17-20: May 28, 2026 Sahagún to Ponferada to Villafranca del Bierzo to O Cebriero
Pedrafita do Cebreiro, Spain
May 28, 2016
Well, it's been several days now, and I need to catch up. There are still no earth-shattering epiphanies, or world-changing events... just more Camino adventures, which are impossible to relate effectively.
It was a tough decision, but I jumped ahead on the trail.
I appreciate all the comments and advice. There was an interesting biphasic temporal pattern to the replies.
When I first imagined what this journey might be like, I visualized walking to the ocean, the end of the earth (yes, it's not really the end of the earth, in fact many now believe the world is round, and without end). The religious end of the journey in Santiago was never that important to me, although it will still be included. I think what pushed me over the edge was Robert Frost's comment "oh, I saved the first for another day/ But knowing how way leads on to way/ I doubted if I would ever come back." There was a thought in the back of my mind that I could return and finish walking across the flat, featureless Meseta... but then, why would I? There are better things to do with my life. So, I traded 3 days of mind-numbingly flat Meseta, for 3 days of hilly, hopefully beautiful walking to the coast.
It was the right decision. Immediately the character of the Camino has changed. Here are some of the highlights:
To Ponferada
As I approached the Cruz Fierro, there was a general sober/exhausted mood among the fellow pilgrims. This is the highest elevation on the Camino, and for many people marks the beginning of the final, spiritual stage.
Pilgrims traditionally carry stones that they have brought with them from their homes, representing their burdens, sorrows, goals and prayers. This cross is where the stones are left. But the ritual actually pre-dates the current pilgrimage iteration, and dates back to Roman times when stones were left on passes as a monument to Mercury, the God who watched over travelers. Both the current and pagan rituals resonate with me: I certainly have baggage to get rid of, and I too carry stones in my pack. Here, I left a stone commemorating my prayers for a good friend's family in their time of difficulty. I also left a stone for my parents, who are passed-on now for many years, though always walking with me. Finally, I left a stone for Kato, my golden retriever who died last year. It sounds silly I know, but this stone was the hardest of all. I guess I am not ready to let him go.
With the ritual done, as is the modern custom, I took a quick selfie and was off.
The road down to Ponferrada was where I really started to bond with my new Camino pack. The day before was a uphill climb, and people were less prone to talk. Now on the gentle down hill through charming towns, tongues were loosened and the general mood was more engaged, and more joyful. I met Peter and the hobbling Nikki, a couple form South Florida who were charming. Nikki was crippled with tendinitis, there was no way Nikki was ever going to make it down the mountain, but she kept going.
I passed a refugio (an albergue which is especially rustic, in this case, no electricity, and no plumbing). The proprietor is a character who considers himself the last Knight Templar. I had a coffee, but the no plumbing was a no-go, and I moved on looking for better-equipped digs.
Later, I noted a donativo bar ahead and the proprietor was trying to lure customers in from the road, but few pilgrims were engaging. Regardless he wished all a "beun Camino!" , and somehow it felt sincere. I popped in and he promised to make me the best cafe con leche of my life, stating that he would put his "heart and soul into it". Frankly, it tasted the same as any other coffee, but the energy and sentiment were so positive, I was enchanted.
Other examples abound. There was Jose, the wood carver who showed me how he carved scallop shells (symbol of Saint James and the Camino). Again, he put his heart and soul into each one. I took one carved from a chestnut wine barrel (back in the day, the wine from this region used to be stored in chestnut barrels). The outside is a beautiful burnished chestnut, the inside has the patina from the wine stored there many years ago. Each piece of wood was special, and each had a story, and a special blessing.
Ponferrada is where the Templar Knights set up shop to protect pilgrims on the Camino, creating the first checking account equivalents for pilgrims who didn't want to carry cash. Their castle remains, and had a special exhibition of the Templar library... with its illustrated manuscripts and maps. I spent hours. Walking across Spain today, I have the benefit of electronic guide books, and GPS on my phone when I am lost, the maps the early pilgrims depended on were pretty sketchy. It's amazing they ever arrived in Santiago.
To Villafranca del Bierzo
After Ponferrada, there are miles of vineyards. The wine from this region, Bierzo, is up-and-coming, and delicious. One vineyard offered passing pilgrims a tasting and a pinxo for a euro. It was early and I passed by... but that might be worth coming back for.
Albergue in Villafranca
But, as it turns out, I had more than enough wine last night after I ran into Peter and the hobbling Nikki again (yes she made it down from the mountain and to Villafranca). At first they seemed just a really adventuresome and fun couple. They already love Mike, and there were invitations to their balcony over Bourbon St for Mardis Gras, and a returned invitation to Oktoberfest. Then, after the third bottle of wine, the story came out: Nikki had been a professional exotic dancer in New Orleans, as was her mother before her (she showed me pictures). She had met Peter, in the bar, and Peter later left his wife for Nikki... an unusual story to say the least, and I love it. It's significantly different from my recent travel companions, the equally wonderful, but less exotic Ben and Linsey, recently graduated medical students. Ben does missionary work, and Linsey recently converted to Catholicism for the wedding. They were delightful, and will make fine physicians. They stopped in every church and went to mass every evening. They were wonderful and a God-send when I needed it: more on them later. I exchanged contact info with Peter and Nikki... I genuinely hope they will stay in touch, because my copy of their info was drenched in today's hike and is now illegible. Sadly, I am now ahead of them, and doubt I will see them again.
So, that brings me to today: O Cebreiro.
O Cebreiro
Hotel O Cebreiro
17.45 miles, 39067 steps, 105 flights, 6:54 hr
After the Roncesvalles pass, this is the day that pilgrims dread. The climb is long and steep. It was tiring, but the climb was really not that big of a deal. The problem was the rain. Today was the first extended exposure to heavy rain. I arrived wet to the bone. I wore the rain jacket and the rain pants, but even though they claim to breath, especially on a strenuous climb, you sweat, and there is nowhere for that sweat to go. So you are wet from the outside in, and the inside out. Also recall that my current footwear solution is sandals with socks. I arrived, muddy, cold, and wet-wet-wet! The pack cover was not completely effective, and everything in the pack is damp as well.
So now I'm off to bed after doing what I can to dry my clothes, which are spread on every surface in the hotel room. There will be the usual 30 minutes of foot care, debriding old blisters, and rubbing in various oils and lotions and chanting certain spells.
More soon.
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