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Published: March 29th 2010
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Lunch in Rabanal
All the essentials. The scenery is not dissimilar to Exmoor. Slate cottages, craggy hills and green fields full of black and white cows. The weather is comparable as well. The early morning drizzle has stopped but it’s quite cool with this mist.
The Camino winds along green lanes hemmed in by dry stone walls and hedgerows. Foraged blackberries once again provide a delicious supplement to my chocolate croissant and banana breakfast.
The “tourists”, as many pilgrims call them, have arrived on the trail given that we are now less than 100km from Santiago. This is the minimum distance you have to walk in order to receive the Compostela (the one way express boarding ticket to heaven). Their bags are taken ahead in vans leaving them to amble their 15km per day and arrive at the albergues first to take all the beds. Having walked over 700km so far it is a little frustrating to have to sleep on the floor at the expense of this lot. But I try not to be bitter. I know nothing of their lives so perhaps they are restricted by work, family, finances or health to only be able to spend a few days on the Camino.
Pity them.
Sleeping on the floor of an indoor football pitch with several hundred others has quickly become a normal pastime. Scenes reminiscent of that baseball stadium after hurricane Katrina are a nightly occurrence.
Often guitars appear from nowhere and after the regulation Hotel California and Wonderwall, a gang of Andalucians will take over and treat us to a bit of wonderful flamenco.
I’m now covering more distance every day, around 30-40km. Partly because my ankles no longer give me grief and partly because, despite the beautiful countryside and villages of Galicia, the towns do not really demand a lot of your time. Though of course Melide is a must, purely for the octopus.
While walking by a particularly ancient looking slate farmhouse, a little old lady appears brandishing a huge tortilla de patatas, the size of a wagon wheel, and invites those of us fortunate enough to be passing a wedge of it. She only speaks Galego, the language of Galicia, which is actually closer to Portuguese than Spanish. The Brazilians in today’s gang chat away with her while I munch my share of the eggy treat.
When the mist clears, expansive views are
offered and the lush green of Galicia is in stark contrast to the scenery of the Meseta a week ago. The transition between these two worlds could well be my favourite part of the Camino so far...
...After leaving the delightful town of Astorga (make sure you’re in the square on the stroke of the hour), a long steady climb heads toward the high ground. These longed for, freshness bringing hills, had always seemed impossibly distant from the flat conveyor belt of the Meseta.
Early the next morning the high point of the Camino is reached. The iron cross is an odd monument. The cairn through which it protrudes is made up of retired hiking paraphernalia and message covered stones. Often lugged from the home country of pilgrims. I obliged in taking photos of fellow early risers (I was on the floor again last night) as they posed amongst the broken sticks, soleless boots and scallop shells.
A day or so later you enter the incredibly rich Valle del Bierzo. The wine has to be my favourite in all of Spain. Not a lot is produced so it doesn’t travel too far from this region before it’s
Early Morning Mist
This is just after passing the highest point on the Camino at La Cruz de Ferro. supped by wise locals (and peregrinos). Frequently the Camino has passed through vineyards and I’ve helped myself to the odd grape or two on the way. Usually they are super sour but not here. The ever present roadside blackberries seem bigger, apples, apricots and pears often overhang the path, and almond trees provide a bit of crunch to go with all the soft, sweet fruits.
And it isn’t just nature that provides the free grub; occasional cafes and wineries will give you coffee, cheese on toast or a glass of red if you tell them you are heading to Santiago. The whereabouts of these freebie giving establishments only seem to be in the German guidebook. So I recommend finding a pretty Austrian to walk with on this particular day.
One lunchtime I reached Villafranca del Bierzo. The short time I spent in this town had me planning how I could spend the rest of my life there. It’s surrounded by lush hills, a crystal clear river flows through the middle, and the cobbled streets are full of abandoned mansions. A few have been converted into very plush guesthouses but the majority are gagging for some “Grand Designs” treatment.
A wonderful day’s walk follows. Definitely take the high route out of Villafranca rather than the easier and shorter track alongside the highway. Everything seemed to come together during this long, hot and scenically beautiful day: Why was I walking the Camino? What did the future hold? I even told someone once I arrived in the pretty hilltop of village O Cebreiro that I’d figured out the meaning of life. Unfortunately I’ve since forgotten it so I may have to do the whole walk again.
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The Compostela
Donny wrote "the Compostela (the one way express boarding ticket to heaven" The Compostela is merely a 'tourist' document, designed in the 1950's, based on a 14th C document in Latin. The "ticket to heaven" would be an INDULGENCE given to those who arrive at the cathedral, confess, attend mass, make a donation etc. One does not have to walk to Santiago to earn an indulgence but you do have to walk 100km - from any direction - to earn the Compostela. If you are not walking for a religious reason, you can request an alternative document - even prettier than the Compostela.