Camino de Santiago: Astorga to Santiago

To summarise my Camino pilgrimage so far, in October 2008, I started my walk in St. Jean de Port, finishing Part 1 in Logroño two weeks later. During April and May 2009, I started Part 2 of my Camino in Santo Domingo de La Calzada, finishing in Astorga three weeks later. So far, I have completed 22 stages out of the 33 stages of the Camino de Santiago. I have spent 5 weeks walking and I have covered approximately 530 km or 330 miles. Part 3, the final part of my Camino will take me from Astorga to Santiago de Compostela. From Astorga it will be 272 km or 170 miles to my final destination.
El Camino de Santiago is a bit like life, as it starts off rather difficult with a relatively easy stretch in the middle and a very difficult finish. West of Astorga, everything changes, as the pilgrim leaves the relative flatness of the Meseta and begins to cross the Mountains of Leon and the wilds of Galicia.
This time, the flight arrangements are Shannon/Stansted/Santander and for the return journey – Santiago de Compostela/Stansted/Shannon – all Ryanair flights.

Part 3 of my Camino began on Wednesday September 30th 2009 with an early morning taxi ride to Shannon Airport in order to catch the 6.35 Ryanair flight to London Stansted. As I had 7 hours to wait for my connecting flight to Santander, I decided to take a local bus out of Stansted and see some of the Essex countryside. At around 9 AM, I caught a bus from Stansted Coach Station to Thaxted, a small town with a population of around 2,500. Thaxted is noted for its guildhall, magnificent church and restored windmill set against a backdrop of medieval houses and is the jewel in the crown of Essex. As I started my walking tour of Thaxted, I was really impressed with the collection of quaint old cottages and houses to be seen, many of them thatched and all of them beautifully maintained. The focal point of the town is the 600 year old arcaded half timbered Guildhall. Beside the Guildhall is the home of one of my boyhood comic book heroes – Dick Turpin – the famous highwayman. Dick Turpin’s Cottage is a lovely old half timbered Tudor style building. Near the church, there are two long buildings, one thatched and the other tiled. These are the Thaxted Almshouses and they provide a picturesque frame for the windmill. On a low hill stands the restored windmill, which is surrounded by a public park. From the windmill, there are extensive views of the local countryside which is mainly cultivated. After a few hours in Thaxted, I caught the bus back to Stansted Airport for the 15.00 Ryanair flight to Santander.



It was a lovely warm balmy evening in Santander as I made my way from the airport to the centre of the city. I had booked a room at Hospedaje Magallanes, where I had stayed last April at the start of Part 2 of my Camino. The tariff is €19 for a single room.




The following morning (Thursday October 1st), I was up bright and early in order to catch the 7.15 ALSA service to Oviedo, which was to be the first leg of a 6 hour bus journey to Astorga. The bus used on the Santander to Oviedo route was the ALSA Supra service, which is luxury long distance bus travel at its best. Instead of the usual rows of 4 seats, the Supra buses have just 3 seats across, that is 2 seats on one side of the bus and 1 one on the other. This arrangement assures maximum leg and arm room for comfort on long journeys. There is also a cold drinks cabinet, where passengers can help themselves to a complimentary bottle of water. A selection of free snacks is also provided. Each passenger is handed a set of ear phones on boarding so that they can listen to the radio or music. Overhead each seat is a monitor so passengers can also watch films if they wish. There is also an on board toilet/washroom. It was certainly the most comfortable coach that I have ever travelled on. That particular bus was travelling from Bilbao in the Basque Country to Santiago, which is a considerable distance. ALSA do charge extra to travel on their Supra services.
Unfortunately, the early part of my journey was in darkness as it does not get bright in Spain until about 8.30 AM in October. From Santander, I travelled westwards towards Oviedo along the green and lush Cantabrian coast with the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the Cantabrian Mountains and the Picos de Europa National Park on the other. Eventually, we crossed into the autonomous region of Asturias. After a journey of around 3 hours, I had reached Oviedo, the capital city of Asturias where I had to change buses. From Oviedo, it was another 2 hours to León. The highway southwards from Oviedo to León crosses the spine of the Cantabrian mountain range and offers some really spectacular views of rugged peaks and the occasional village clinging to the steep slopes. As I travelled southwards towards León, the weather also got brighter and sunnier and the landscape became drier. From León, I was able to catch one of the frequent buses to Astorga, which is only a journey of an hour.
Once in Astorga, I checked into the Albergue Publico, where I had stayed last May at the end of Part 2 of my Camino. As I had already explored Astorga last May, I was able to take it easy for the afternoon concentrate on stocking up on supplies before heading into the hills. I also had to buy a new walking pole.

Friday October 2nd, the day the walking started all over again. That morning in the albergue (hostel), they were playing Gregorian chant just to get us in the pilgrimage mood. Most albergues insist on pilgrims leaving before 8 AM, which is fine during the summer months, but in October it does not get bright until 8.30. I have to interest in walking in the pitch darkness because one can see little and it could also be dangerous. That morning as I walked through the dark streets of Astorga, I could feel the straps of my rucksack biting into my shoulders – how I longed to take it off! I felt that I was carrying too much. Maybe this Camino is just too much for me. I found a café that was open for breakfast, so I hung out there until the dawn started to break. After breakfast and with the rising sun at my back, I set off on the final part of my Camino. It did feel good to be back again on the Camino. I was still in the vast region of Castilla y León, which I had been traversing since Day 3 of Part 2 of my Camino. Outside Astorga is the tiny medieval hermitage of Ecce Homo, where the pilgrim may rest a while, say a prayer and brace himself for the trials and hardships ahead. For many pilgrims, heading into the mountains west of Astorga is a welcome relief after the Meseta. The stretch between Astorga and Ponferrada is one of the most interesting and beautiful of the whole Camino. The inhabitants of Astorga and the 45 villages to the west are known as the Margatos and are descended from Berbers from North Africa who settled here in the 9th century. They are renowned for their honesty and they were the muleteers of Spain for centuries. They could be trusted to transport a ton of gold from the Atlantic to Madrid. They have preserved many of their unique customs, cuisine, and style of architecture.
After Astorga, the first village reached is Murias de Rechivaldo, a typical Maragato village. I rested there for a while and photographed some of the local streets. From Murias, I took a short diversion to visit the classic Maragato village of Castrillo de Polvazares, which had been painstakingly restored by artisans and craftsmen. The entire village is a national monument and it has some upmarket accommodation. I wandered around the cobbled streets marvelling at the lovely old stone houses with their green doors and window frames and wooden balconies. Castrillo must be a film director’s dream as it is a perfectly restored medieval village without any modern intrusions except a few cars owned by residents.
From Castrillo, I continued on to Santa Catalina de Somoza, another typical village of the region. Santa Catalina has 3 pilgrims’ hostels and I decided to check in at Hospedería San Blas, a private hostel. As today was my first day back walking on the Camino, I decided to check into a hostel early and just rest and hang out for the afternoon. I had walked around 12 kms in 4 hours. Hospedería San Blas is a nice clean comfortable place and has a bar that offers food and drink throughout the day to the resident or passing pilgrim. Pilgrims may relax in a courtyard at the rear or sit out front and watch the world go by. While enjoying a cold beer out front, I got talking with an elderly Italian pilgrim. He was telling me that he was suffering from a throat infection and that the girl from the hostel had driven him into Astorga to see a doctor. In these small places, they do really care about the welfare of the pilgrims and will help in any way they can if someone has a problem.
That evening, dinner was served in the bar, and I had the pleasure of the company of pilgrims from Germany, Italy, Malaysia and Canada. I got talking to a really charming lady called Wila from Malaysia and I was to meet her again on the Camino.




The following morning after breakfast, I was on the Camino again, walking in brilliant sunshine. After about 5 kms, I came to El Ganso, a hauntingly crumbling village, evoking a sense of loss and a reminder of a less hurried time. El Ganso is the location of a classic pilgrim halt – The Cowboy Bar, which is decorated with all kinds of Western memorabilia. As I relaxed with a coffee outside the Cowboy Bar, a pilgrim nearby remarked to me “this is paradise” and indeed it was. Just to relax there in the warm sunshine and enjoy the peace and quiet without a care in the world was indeed a special experience.
Between El Ganso and Rabanal Del Camino, the pathway started to become a bit steeper as I approached the high country. At around 1 PM, I had reached Rabanal, after covering about 12 kms. Rabanal Del Camino is a busy little place with 4 pilgrim’s hostels, 2 hotels and a shop. I was planning to spend the night there at Refugio Gaucelmo, the only English hostel on the Camino Francés. The hostel did not open until 2 PM, so while I was waiting, I had a beer and a sandwich in one of the bars. Outside the bar, I noticed that the mercury on a temperature gauge had reached 30 C! It was a hot one!

Refugio Gaucelmo

Refugio Gaucelmo is run by the London based Confraternity of St. James and I was particularly interested in staying there as I knew that I would experience a warm English welcome. As it turned out, I was to experience a very warm Scottish welcome. The hostel is in a sensitively restored L shaped Maragato building. It is spotlessly clean and offers every facility for the weary pilgrim. It has extensive grounds, which include a large garden, patio and barn. The dormitories open onto a balcony which overlooks a delightful courtyard. What really made Refugio Gaucelmo special was the warm welcome and hospitality offered by Betty and Dougal, a Scottish couple now living in Yorkshire. The hostel is operated by volunteer hospitaleros and each couple spends a few weeks there looking after the pilgrims. Betty was constantly inviting pilgrims to join her for a cup of tea in the courtyard. There is no fixed charge to stay overnight and the hostel operates on a donation basis in the medieval traditional of service and hospitality to everyone regardless of means. Of the over 40 pilgrim’s hostels that I have stayed in during my Camino; I would place Refugio Gaucelmo at number one on my list of favourites.




Betty and Dougal were on duty at 7 AM in order to serve breakfast to the pilgrims before their departure. I set off from Refugio Gaucelmo at first light, which was around 8 AM for what was to be one of my hardest days on the Camino. Again, I enjoyed a magnificent sunrise as I started to climb towards the Cruz de Ferro, the highest point on the Camino. As dawn broke, spectacular views of the surrounding mountains opened up. The country side was parched after a long hot summer and any water courses were bone dry. From Rabanal, the going got really tough with many steep inclines - Moan! Gasp! Pant! The first settlement reached is the semi-abandoned village of Foncebadón. By the 1980s, the village had become totally abandoned and was inhabited only by wild dogs that used to attack the relative small trickle of pilgrims passing through. Foncebadón is now stirring back to life with the reawakening of the Camino with many of the abandoned houses undergoing renovation. The overall appearance of the village is untidy with abandoned scrapped cars, unsurfaced streets and an assortment of dogs, cows and domestic fowl wandering around. There is an unusual circular thatched building, which was the first thatched structure that I had seen in Spain so far on my travels. In the centre of the village is Albergue de Monte Irago, which is a pilgrim’s hostel, guesthouse, shop, bar, café, and restaurant – whatever you want it to be! In the middle of all this, the woman of the house was feeding a baby! The tired pilgrim may stop off here and have some refreshment – all supplied on the basis of a donativo or donation. As I sat outside having a coffee, I got talking to 2 Irish pilgrims, Ann and Dominic. They are from County Offaly but now living in Wales. They too had started walking from Astorga and were planning to reach Santiago at around the same time as me. Foncebadón is a good place to experience life in a mountain community – Spain in the raw! There is a very unique pilgrim’s hostel in Foncebadón, an old abandoned church that has been beautifully restored to provide accommodation. A stark wooden cross adds a haunting beauty to this isolated mountain hamlet.
As I climbed out of Foncebadón, the doorway through the mountains and its memorable cross opened up to guide me, as it has done for countless millions of other pilgrims for over a thousand years. The Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross) is a humble monument to mark such a noble gateway. This majestic spot stands at 1,505metres or almost 5,000 feet above sea level and a simple iron cross stands atop its weathered wooden pole. Around the cross is a massive pile of stones and it is the tradition for pilgrims to bring a stone from their own country and add it to the pile. I added a piece of Clare limestone to the pile. I was now at the highest point on the entire Camino, so it was a good place to rest and reflect. Ann and Dominic were already at the Cruz de Ferro before me, so they kindly took my photo at this memorable landmark on the Camino. From the Cruz de Ferro, it was mostly downhill – what a relief! The day had become really hot at this stage with the sun beating down from a clear cloudless sky – Oh the heat! The dust! The Flies! Every time that I stopped for a moment to admire the view or to take a photo, I was plagued by swarms of flies. Luckily, I had some insect repellent with me. Some really stunning views of ranges of forested mountains now opened up. The next settlement reached is Manjarín, another abandoned village, which has been brought back to life by the modern knight/hospitalero Tomás, who has rebuilt the only habitable house. Tomás operates this simple mountain sanctuary in the age old traditions of the Knights Templars and cares for pilgrims in a medieval manner. He provides hostel accommodation in a collection of shanties and tumble down shacks that surround the main house. Tomás devotes his life year round to caring for pilgrims in this high desolate spot where bad weather – fog, rain, cold and snow is almost the norm. In spite of its rough and ready appearance, the settlement at Manjarín is very atmospheric and certainly worth a visit. They also offer refreshment to passing pilgrims on a donation basis. Just to sit there with a drink and listen to the sacred music and take it all in is an experience. There are some local characters hanging about – unshaven and smoking cigarettes as well as an assortment of dogs and cats. There is no running water in Manjarín and the toilet is reported to be ‘a hole in the ground’. It may be just a bit too primitive for most pilgrims. Many solo female pilgrims are reluctant to stop off in Manjarín when they see these scruffy looking blokes hanging about. For me it was just another memorable landmark on the road to Santiago. From Manjarín, I had another 7 km to walk in sweltering temperatures to my destination for that night. Eventually, the village of El Acebo appeared below me, a huddle of slate roofed houses under the mountain – and it was a very welcome sight indeed. Thoughts of a shower, a cold beer and some food and a bed kept me going for the last steep descent into El Acebo. I checked into the Albergue Casa Parroquial, which offers pilgrims bed, dinner and breakfast on a donation basis. It had been a long tiring day as I had walked 17 km and had been on the Camino for 7 hours. It was only when I sat down that I realised that I was covered in dust and drenched in sweat. After a cold shower, I was ready to explore El Acebo, a typical mountain village of the region with one long principle main street with a central drain running the length of it. The stone houses with their overhanging wooden balconies are very old but still lived in. Many of the flower bedecked buildings also feature external staircases and have slate roofs instead of the tiled roofs which are the norm in most of Spain. The slate roofs provide more protection from the rain and the storms which affect this area. El Acebo is one of the most attractive villages on the Camino and gives a glimpse of a now almost vanished world. After a beer and some food, it was time for a siesta before dinner.
Albergue Casa Parroquial is housed in a restored stone building in the middle of the village. On closer inspection of my bed, I could see that the pillow and sheet had not been changed and were not clean. Luckily, I had my own pillow case and fitted sheet with me. That evening, a communal dinner was served, but luckily I did not have to pitch in as there were a number of Spanish pilgrims present and they helped the hospitalero to prepare the meal. They basically put sausages and vegetables into a big pot and just boil it up and dish it out. There was a great atmosphere of comradeship and conviviality generated by so many pilgrims eating and drinking wine together. At my table, there were pilgrims from Spain, Portugal, Finland, Norway and Switzerland and as the wine flowed, tongues were loosened and language was not a problem to communication. It was only after sitting down for a while that I realised how tired I actually was. After dinner, I could hardly stand up from the table; I was just so stiff and aching all over.
That night, I had the luxury of a bedside chair, a rare enough facility in a pilgrim’s hostel. The chair also doubled up as a night stand on which I placed my glasses, phone, head torch and other personal bits and pieces. As I dozed off to sleep, I could see this pair of feet dangling from the bunk over head mine and they were about to land on top of my bits and pieces. I quickly pushed my belongings aside as the occupant of the top bunk stood on my chair. I later discovered that the feet belonged to that nice Norwegian lady to whom I had been speaking to during dinner. There was no ladder to access the top bunk and also there were no bars to stop the occupant of the top bunk from falling out – talk about a safety hazard!




The next morning after breakfast, I was on the road again for the relatively short and easy walk to Molinaseca. Outside El Acebo is a modern sculpture of a bicycle, which is a memorial to a German cyclist who was killed there in an accident. The next village reached is Riego de Ambrós, another attractive mountain village with the traditional overhanging wooden balconies. On leaving Riego de Ambrós, I followed a path up a hillside, which I presumed was the Camino de Santiago. After about a kilometre, I met a group of local walkers who told me that I was not on the Camino and that I would have to turn back again to Riego de Ambrós. It was lucky for me that I met them as I would have really gone astray. From Riego de Ambrós, the Camino follows a very steep rock defile past a magical grove of giant chestnut trees. After a while, I came across a wayside café, which offered breakfast – fresh orange juice, scrambled eggs on toast and coffee – I’m having that!
The rest of the route from Riego de Ambrós to Molinaseca was all downhill along a winding road with breathtakingly beautiful views of forested mountains and lush green valleys. At that time of year, the foliage displayed the autumn colours of golden brown, russet and light green.

Molinaseca

A handsome Roman bridge brings pilgrims into the delightful and historic village of Molinaseca (dry mill). It was the first place so far that I had seen a river with actual water in it. I made my way to Albergue Santa Marina, a private hostel and checked in. It was around 1 PM and I was the first to check in there that day after walking for just 4 hours and covering about 12 km. I was still tired after the day before and needed a bit of rest and comfort. Albergue Santa Marina is a first class hostel and it is housed in a new building on the way out of Molinaseca. It offers every facility for the weary pilgrim in clean well maintained surroundings. What I liked most about it was that they provided proper single beds for pilgrims – no bunks, so no banging of heads, back strain of twisted innards! Albergue Santa Marina has nice outdoor seating areas, comfortable lounge, snack bar, nice dining room, laundry facilities, spacious washrooms, and Internet access. I would certainly place Albergue Santa Marina in my top 10 of all the hostels that I stayed in.
After settling in, I set out to explore the delights of Molinaseca. I also treated myself to lunch – a 3 course meal for €8 including a drink! Molinaseca is a substantial village with a wide range of services. That afternoon, there were a few light rain showers – a sign of changing weather!
Just down the road from Albergue Santa Marina, is the municipal albergue, a very shabby and badly kept establishment. A few tattered flags outside do not give a good impression. The ‘reception desk’ is a table outside the door where the unshaven and pot-bellied hospitalero checks in the pilgrims. I took a discreet look inside and the place looked very dark and gloomy. What astonished me were the bunk beds that were placed outside on an open verandah – it was the first time that I had ever seen that. I think that Molinaseca has one of the best albergues on the Camino and one of the worst!
That evening a delicious 4 course dinner with wine was served in the elegant dining room of Albergue Santa Marina at a cost of €8. Actually, one can eat very well on the Camino at a reasonable cost. That particular day, I had 2 breakfasts, a 3 course lunch and a 4 course dinner. At dinner, I got talking to this Austrian girl who was actually doing the Camion de Santiago backwards! My ordered mind could never comprehend such a journey - going against a thousand years of history and tradition of pilgrims heading west towards Santiago. It would take a woman to even consider such a journey which would involve walking against the morning sun rise not to mention the hoards of other pilgrims going in the opposite direction! She was also pulling behind her a kind of trolley with one wheel - a kind of long wheel barrow with her luggage on it. I also got talking to 3 Japanese pilgrims, who had a little English but hardly any Spanish. They showed me their Japanese pilgrim’s credentials which were written in Japanese and Spanish. They had obtained their first stamp at St. Mary’s Cathedral in Tokyo.




The next morning, I was on the trail again in semi-darkness towards Ponferrada. On the way into Ponferrada, I passed rather poignant memorial to a pilgrim named John Carty aged 75, who died on the Camino at this place. Ponferrada came as a bit of a shock to the system as it is an industrial city with a population of 60,000 – mucho trafico! I found it difficult to follow the Camino through the suburbs of Ponferrada and when I did finally reach the old part of the city, I felt tired, vulnerable and weak. After a rest, I felt better and explored the old city of Ponferrada which is dominated by El Castillo de Los Templarios, one of the largest medieval castles in Spain. I then made my way to Estacion de Autobuses – the Bus Station, in order to catch the 11.30 bus to Villafranca Del Bierzo. Why walk 20km when there is a bus going that way! As I travelled along in the bus towards Villafranca Del Bierzo, I passed many pilgrims as they trudged along through the soulless suburbs of Ponferrada – I even recognised some of them. I was now starting to feel what I call ‘bus pilgrims guilt’ as I sped along the highway leaving so many pilgrims behind who were doing it the hard way.
On arriving at Villafranca Del Bierzo, the bus stopped outside the tourist office, so I was able to get a map of the town, directions to my hostel and detailed bus information for the following day. I decided to stay in Albergue de La Piedra, the best pilgrim’s hostel in town. It is a nice clean place with good if somewhat cramped facilities. The building is wedged in between the street and a solid wall of rock so there is no outside seating or drying areas. Inside, the building features walls comprised of the living rock. After a freshen up and some food, I was ready to explore the sights of Villafranca Del Bierzo.
Villafranca Del Bierzo (Pop. 4,000) is one of the most attractive towns on the Camino and is surrounded by forested mountains and is crisscrossed by several rivers and streams. Everywhere one goes in Villafranca, the sound of flowing water is heard due to the numerous waterways and cascades. This delightful town began to develop in this idyllic spot along the Camino in the 11th century. The ‘Villafranca’ comes from ‘town of the French’, which refers to the French pilgrims who settled here in medieval times. The town has a rich heritage of religious and secular buildings. Visually, Villafranca is a tangle of bridges, waterways, and some impossibly steep streets and houses clinging to precipitous hillsides. That afternoon, there were a number a heavy rain showers – a sign of the worsening weather situation. That evening, I had dinner in the albergue with a Polish couple and 2 German pilgrims. Generally, though the facilities in the Albergue de La Piedra were adequate, it lacked atmosphere, possibly due to the fact that is seemed to be run by youngish people and was basically just an upmarket youth hostel. That night, I could hear the rain pounding against the rooftops and I thought to myself “it’s really starting to look and sound like Ireland!”




The following morning, it was teeming rain as I departed from Albergue de La Piedra in Villafranca. I had to don full rain gear before I even ventured outside the door. Today’s stage to O’ Cebreiro involved a journey of over 30 kms and a climb to a height of 1,300 metres or 4,300 feet above sea level. I had found out the day before at the tourist office that there was a bus to Pedrafita do Cebreiro at 8.30 AM, which would bring me to within 5 km of O’Cebreiro. As I waited at the bus shelter near the tunnel, many pilgrims passed by dressed only in flimsy plastic ponchos desperately trying to make out the camino markings in the darkness and the torrential rain. I was tempted to shout over to them “bus stop here folks”, but then I suppose it is up to each individual pilgrim to make their own way on the Camino. Many pilgrims, especially the ‘purists’ believe in walking every step of the way and would not consider using any form of public transport. There were only 2 other passengers at the bus stop – 2 Spanish backpackers. We were picked up in a mini-bus and soon we were on our way through the rain drenched and mist covered wilds of Galicia. As we sped along, I could see lines of pilgrims trudging along the side of the highway in the driving rain – another pang of ‘bus pilgrim’s guilt!’ In less than an hour, I was dropped off in the village of Pedrafita do Cebreiro, which is situated in the autonomous region of Galicia and the province of Lugo. Galicia is the Celtic region of Spain and has its own distinctive culture. The language of Galicia is Galega, which is related to Portuguese and is therefore easy to understand. The most visible difference is the spelling of place names where X replaces J and I replaces Y.
Galicia is divided into 4 provinces and has a population of fewer than 3 million. It is about one third the size of Ireland and the capital is Santiago de Compostela. Galicia is a land of rivers, green forested mountains and a deeply indented coastline and is very different from what is understood as a typical Spanish landscape. The climate is much wetter than other parts of Spain due to the influence of Atlantic rain belts.
I hung around for a while in Pedrafita do Cebreiro, which is a nondescript village just off the motorway from Madrid to A Coruña. Eventually, I made my way slowly up the road towards O’ Cebreiro. As it was my first time walking through Galicia, the similarities in climate and vegetation to Ireland were obvious. I recognised many different plants such as ferns and heathers that one finds in Ireland. Even the smell of the countryside was familiar – that of rotting and decayed vegetation and dampness. By the time I left Pedrafita, the heavy rain had cleared but the hills and forests were still shrouded in mist. The heat, dust and flies of some days ago had been replaced by cloudy skies, rain, dampness and mud – just like Ireland! Further up the steep roadway, the sun started to break through – the ever changing colour of land and sky – velvet valleys and rugged mountains.


O’ Cebreiro

I took my time in reaching O’ Cebreiro, lingering every now and then to admire and photograph the panorama of mountains and valleys that had started to open up around me. I eventually reached the village of O’Cebreiro at around midday. The weather was still very changeable with occasional heavy showers as I approached the highest village on the Camino, lying at a height of 1,300 metres or 4,200 feet above sea level. It felt cold at such at altitude and I needed a fleece as well as a rain jacket and a mountain hat. The village is situated on an open mountainside that gives incomparable views of the lush green valleys and jagged peaks that stretch away into the distant horizon.
At around 1 PM, I headed to the pilgrim’s hostel in order to check in and secure that all important lower bunk bed. There were a number of female pilgrims also waiting to check in including my Malaysian friend Wila. The hostel at O’ Cebreiro is one of many run by the Xunta de Galicia – the Galician regional government which offer standard prices and facilities. The charge for a bed is €3 and each pilgrim is given a disposable pillow case and sheet. Three staff arrived and opened up the hostel and started to check us in. We were issued with tickets which indicated the number of the bed that was allocated to each pilgrim. I was given a ticket for an upper bunk bed which I do not like. I returned to reception and asked for a lower bunk bed but was told to swap beds with another pilgrim. This was not an option at the time, so I just placed my belongings on a lower bunk thinking that it was a large hostel and would not be full in October. Another thing that I did not like about the dormitory was the way the bunks were pushed together with no space in between. I don’t mind being close to my fellow pilgrims, but not that close to them! There were some rows of bunks that were not pushed together, but the staff seemed to want to cram us all into one corner of the dormitory. I got talking to another pilgrim, Suzanne from Canada and she suggested that we could change beds later when the staff had gone away for the night. The whole idea in arriving early at a hostel is that one has a choice of beds. This was the first time that I had this kind of experience on the Camino. I put it all down to the fact that it is a government run hostel and that red tape and bureaucracy take precedence over the wishes of individual pilgrims.
After all that I needed some lunch, so I went into the first restaurant that I found and had Menū del Dia. To start, I had the local soup Caldo Gallego, which is a thick broth made with potatoes and broccoli. From desert, I had Tarta de Santiago, an almond tart, which is another local speciality. Then I was ready to explore the wonders of the highly picturesque mountain village of O’ Cebreiro.
The undulating village is a cluster of stone houses with slated or thatched roofs that are connected by narrow laneways of rough cobbles. O’ Cebreiro is on the coach tour circuit, so there are a number of restaurants and souvenir shops. Traditional Galician music, which is very similar to Irish or Scottish music can be heard around the streets.

Scattered around the village are the pallozas, which are very primitive dwelling houses, made from roughly hewn stone with conical roofs thatched with straw. They are much more basic than the traditional Irish thatched cottage or the Scottish black house. The buildings are oval in shape and are described as ‘pre Roman’. The design is similar to the Iron Age round house of Britain and Ireland. They were still inhabited in remote mountainous parts of Galicia until the 1970s. They were designed to withstand the severe winter weather at altitudes of over 1,200 metres. One of them is open to the public so that visitors may have some idea of the living conditions in the mountains of Galicia in times past. The first thing that one notices on entering a palloza is the darkness as the windows are minute. There are no chimneys and the smoke from the fire escaped through the thatch. There is just one bedroom for the senior married couple of the house. One side of the palloza was used to house the animals and the heat from the beasts kept the family warm during the harsh winters. All food stuffs had to be placed in racks hanging from the roof in order to protect them from rodents. It is incredible to think that people and animals were still living together in such primeval stone huts until just a few decades ago.
The stark 9th century parish church of Santa Maria Real features a long low sloping roof in order to withstand blizzards and storms. The church in O’ Cebreiro was where the ‘Eucharistic Miracle’ took place in medieval times – ‘ an arrogant priest while celebrating the mass saw the bread and wine turn into the body and blood of Christ as he offered them to a humble peasant, who had risked life and limb to attend mass in a terrible snowstorm. The blood stained chalice and paten are displayed in a shrine in the church. The chalice and paten have become the symbol of O’ Cebreiro and they are also to be seen on the flag of Galicia. The village of O’ Cebreiro, which developed from and for the pilgrimage to Santiago, presents to the visitor a rare insight into the distinctive history and heritage of Galicia, and of course when the sun shines, the views of the surrounding tortured landscapes are truly stunning.
When I returned to the pilgrim’s hostel after my afternoon of sightseeing, I found that all my belongings had been thrown up onto the top bunk bed. I then had a good look around the hostel and discovered that there were 2 dormitories that were locked up and another one that was just half full. I did at that stage plan to move to another bed after dinner.
That evening, I enjoyed a very convivial dinner in one of the local restaurants with three French Canadians – Suzanne, Robert and Michelle and also Wila and a girl from Uruguay. When I got back to the hostel, I did not have the energy to start moving beds so I just put up with my top bunk bed. The following morning, I planned an early start as I intended to catch the bus from O’ Cebreiro to Lugo at 06.45.
For me, my visit to O’Cebreiro was one of the major highlights of my Camino and I would recommend a visit there to both pilgrims and visitors to Galicia. Outside of the slight unpleasantness at the hostel, I found the people there to be friendly and hospitable and it was a privilege to have had the opportunity to visit such a beautiful and fascinating settlement.




The following day, I decided that I needed to speed things up and I would have to reluctantly skip 2 stages of the Camino. I felt that I needed at least 7 days to walk from Sarria to Santiago and 3 days in that city before my departure from Spain on October 19th. Unfortunately, I missed a visit to the great monastery at Samos, one of the highlights of the Camino. I caught the mini-bus from O’Cebreiro to Lugo, the provincial capital at 06.45, arriving at 08.30. The bus journey from O’Cebreiro to Lugo was almost entirely in darkness. The city of Lugo, which is the capital of the province of the same name, dates back to Celtic times, and is named after the Celtic god, Lugh. Lugo is the only Spanish city to remain completely enclosed within superb Roman walls. After arriving on the bus, I enjoyed a very pleasant walk along Lugo’s Roman walls, which stretch for 3 km. There are 85 circular defensive towers and numerous impressive gateways piercing the walls. Later that morning, I caught a bus to Sarria, my destination for that night. Sarria, a town with a population of over 12,000 is a major starting point for pilgrims with limited time as it is necessary to walk a minimum of 100 kms to be entitled to a Compostela and Sarria is situated at a distance of 117 kms from Santiago. Many Spanish pilgrims start from here as they wish to obtain the Compostela with only the minimum distance walked. Sarria has 6 pilgrim’s hostels as well as a wide selection of other accommodation. On leaving the bus station, I checked in at the first pension (guesthouse) that I came across. I was offered a nice on-suite room for €25 at Casa Matias. At that stage, I needed a break from the pilgrim’s hostels and a chance to spread out my stuff and of course to enjoy a night of uninterrupted sleep.
As Spanish towns go, I found Sarria to one of the least interesting places that I have visited on the Camino. There is a much commercialised nondescript new town and a not particularly interesting old town on a hill. Unusually for Spain, there is no plaza mayor or central focal point or meeting place. Anyway, it was good to have the privacy and comfort of my own room and after a number of easy days of mainly bus travel, I was ready to start some real walking tomorrow. At this stage, I had left all my Camino amigos far behind me but imagined that they will catch up with me in a few days.





The following morning (Friday October 9th.), I was out at the break of dawn to begin what was to be one of the most enjoyable days of my Camino. It was my first day walking through the typical Galician farm country. From Sarria, I crossed over an ancient rough stone bridge and then up a steep pathway through delightful oak woods. There was a constant stream of pilgrims leaving Sarria that morning as it is a major stopover and starting point. I got talking to this Spanish pilgrim who seemed to be finding the going very hard as she was panting and gasping for air. She had just started her Camino in Sarria and I tried to advice her in my best Spanish not to overdo it on the first day.
At Villei, there is a very convenient pilgrim’s rest area called Km 108. It is a converted barn, which houses a variety of vending machines and seating for the weary pilgrim. The weather today was cloudy and overcast, but no rain so far. It was to take me 7 hours to cover the 12 kms to Ferrerios, not because the paths were particularly steep but because I was so fascinated by everything around me, which resulted in numerous photo stops, rest stops and just time spent lingering and taking it all in. Walking through the Galician countryside was like returning to Ireland of the 1950s and many of the sights, sounds and smells reminded me of my own childhood. There was a familiarity about the small fields, stone walls and the heavily wooded lush green countryside. It is a land of small family farms, not like the vast estates of Castile.
I was immediately fascinated by the old stone built houses and farm buildings. The farmhouses are generally square in shape with a pyramid style slated roof ending in a finial. The practice of having the cows and other animals live in the ground floor of the house and the farm family live overhead is still carried on.
A unique feature of the Galician countryside are the Hórreos, which are granaries standing on stone stilts and are used to dry grain, fruit, and vegetables and also to protect the stored crops from rodents. They are made from a variety of materials including, stone, bricks, concrete, wood, and wicker. The steeply pitched roofs of the Hórreos can be of tiles, slates, or thatch. The gables often end in crosses or finials. There are still 18,000 of these most unusual structures in Galicia and they are much admired and photographed by visitors. The Hórreo is unique to north western Spain and in some places, the bus shelters are modelled on this distinctive building.
I was amazed by the variety of fruits and vegetables to be seen growing in the fields, which included corn, cabbage, plums, pumpkins and indeed all kinds of other crops that I could not identify. At this time of the year, the countryside was laden with the mellow fruitfulness of the harvest – chestnuts (conkers), acorns, apples, nuts and berries.
There are many farm animals to be seen including, cows, sheep, pigs, and goats. Domestic fowl forage along the roadways and the crow of the cock and the singing of the hen can be heard everywhere. The smells too were familiar – silage, slurry, pig manure and cow dung.

The farm folk are friendly and will greet the passing pilgrim with a Buenos Dias or Buen Camino. Most people that I saw on the land seemed to be middle aged or elderly and were dressed in old fashioned clothing with the women wearing head scarves and the men wearing cloth caps. The shepherds still use the traditional crook or staff.
I rested for a while at a fountain which featured a large ‘Mickey Mouse’ type character which is the mascot for the Camino in Santiago in Galicia. I passed through a series of small farming hamlets which offered no facilities. In the hamlet of Morgade, a wonderfully maintained old farmhouse has been converted into a bar/restaurant and guesthouse. They offered a 3 course lunch for €7.50 – all home cooking and fresh farm produce – who could resist! I took an outside seat and enjoyed a delicious meal. Dining in a farmyard is great as long as one does not object to cows passing just inches from one’s table or having the pet dogs watching one while eating. Nearby, a tiny stone chapel is used as a source of pilgrim communication with people leaving notes for their friends. Unfortunately, it has been covered with graffiti both inside and out. This is rural Galicia at her best; wet and green with the pungent stench and squelch of cow dung underfoot. Some stretches of the pathways have stepping stones raised above flood levels in order to help pilgrims get through without getting bogged down in the quagmire.

Ferrerios

At around 3 PM, I eventually arrived at my destination for tonight – the tiny hamlet of Ferrerios, which consists of 2 bar/restaurants, a church and a pilgrim’s hostel. I noticed that the inns hereabouts have a hitching post out front as they sometimes cater for the pilgrim who travels by horse or burro. I checked into the hostel, which is a converted schoolhouse in a leafy glade. It is run by the Xunta de Galicia, but there was none of this nonsense about numbering the beds as in O’Cebreiro – one could just pick any free bed that was available. The nearby church is Romanesque and is surrounded by the tombs of local families – like some village of the dead.
That evening at dinner, I met two Irish pilgrims, Liz and Tony, who are originally from County Offaly, but now live in Australia. They were on 3 months long service leave from their jobs. They had started the Camino from Sarria. We had a very interesting discussion comparing life in Ireland, Australia and Spain.
I would consider Day 9 of part 3 of my Camino to be one of the most interesting so far and it was fascinating to see and experience life in the depths of rural Galicia. It was a good day! Compared to Galicia, I would regard the Irish countryside to be sterile – with little in the way of fruit or vegetables growing in it and few farm animals or wild life to be seen.





The following morning, it was raining again, so I waited around the hostel until it cleared a little at around 9AM. As I walked along in the heavy drizzle, I reached a beautifully converted traditional farmhouse where they had converted a wayside barn into a shelter for pilgrims. Trudged along a muddy lane, I suddenly heard some lovely classical music wafting through the air – I had reached Albergue Mercadoir – a veritable oasis of peace and tranquillity where the pilgrim is offered refreshment and accommodation in really lovely surroundings. Albergue Mercadoir is both a hostel and a guesthouse in an old converted farmhouse. There also have a nice restaurant/bar with terrace seating. I just stopped in for a coffee and a croissant and I was very impressed by the ambiance of the place, not forgetting to mention the beautiful señorita!
The rain started to clear as I made my way through mist covered forested hills and heather covered moors. Around mid-day, I had reached the outskirts of Portomarín - and what an entrance! Portomarín (Pop.2, 000) is a new town that replaced an old one that was drowned by the waters of a reservoir in the 1950s. The town is now accessed by a dizzyingly high bridge that spans the reservoir and gives some really extensive views of the waterways, the different bridges and the town. The water in the reservoir was quiet low at that time of year so I could see the original medieval bridge far below as well as the remains of the old buildings that were covered by the waters of the reservoir almost 60 years ago.
On arrival in downtown Portomarín, I checked into Albergue Porto Santiago, a private hostel. It is a nice clean well run place, which occupies the ground floor of a private house. There are nice private bathrooms, a lounge with TV and Internet as well as a shady garden with sun loungers. Only 3 other pilgrims stayed there that night – it must have been the charge of €9 that put them off.
Portomarín is a busy place with 5 pilgrim’s hostels, a youth hostel, several hotels and guesthouses as well as a full range of shops and services. There is a fine plaza mayor that is dominated by a fortified church and a handsome arcaded main street. That evening there were people dancing and playing music in the plaza. Portomarín on a Saturday night – a lively spot!
As I wandered around town that evening, I started to meet all the amigos that I had left behind including, Wila, the 3 French Canadians, and Dominick & Ann. So even though I had spent 3 days travelling on buses and had skipped 2 stages, they had all caught up to me again.
In one of the bars on the plaza, there is a framed photo on display of the Irish President, Mary McAleese that was taken from a local newspaper. It shows her as she passed through Portomarín while walking the Camino in April 2009. Mary McAleese is the only serving head of state to have done the Camino de Santiago.

The next morning was cloudy and overcast as I crossed the footbridge out of Portomarín and began a steep slog up a forest track that ran parallel to the main road passing a brick factory and a fertilizer plant on the way. I stopped for a while at a wayside picnic table for a rest and a snack. I was later joined by Liz and Tony who had spent the night in a hotel in Portomarín. We were then joined by Dominick and Ann and I introduced the 2 couples to each other who were both originally from County Offaly. They were surprised to meet fellow pilgrims from the same Irish county on the Camino. The talk was of Clara, Ferbane and Ballycumber – all places in Offaly. We were later joined by another Irish pilgrim – Sheila from County Cork. I suppose it was a bit of an unusual coincidence that 6 Irish pilgrims should meet that morning at that picnic table outside Portomarín.
After 5 kms, a wayside bar at Gonzar provided a much needed coffee and loo stop. At this stage, the sun had started to shine down from a blue and cloudless sky – it was feeling like Spain again! After another 5 km, I had reached my destination for today – the tiny farming hamlet of Ventas de Narón. I checked into Casa Molar, a private hostel and pension that is in a converted farmhouse. It also has a bar/restaurant that serves food throughout the day. I was able to secure one of the single beds available in the dormitory. Liz and Tony had already checked in to one of the private rooms. I joined them later for a beer out on the sun drenched terrace. We were later joined by my other Irish pilgrim friends, Ann, Dominick and Sheila, but they had decided to press on to the next village for the night.
It was a just one of those perfect days in a perfect place – a tranquil atmosphere, good company, tasty food, cold beer, warm sunshine, a lazy afternoon with the prospect of a good dinner to follow and a comfortable bed – this is the life! There were only 8 pilgrims staying in Casa Molar that night and we enjoyed a nice dinner and stimulating conversation together. There were 3 Irish pilgrims, 3 Germans and 2 Canadians. I also had the pleasure of a dormitory of silent sleepers, so I slept soundly – no snoring!




The following morning, I passed through the typical farming hamlets of Ligonde and Airexe. The weather was glorious, with a bright sun blazing down from a blue sky. I could feel the temperatures starting to rise again and it felt that I had come back again into summer after a number days of cloudy and damp weather.
As I walked along that day, I became aware of an elderly pilgrim shuffling ahead of me. He seemed to be just about able to walk even though he had no walking poles and carried a very light rucksack. At one stage, I helped to point him in the right direction as he had gone off the Camino. I kept catching up to him at various places during the morning. At one place, he had stopped for a rest and he called me over to help him put his rucksack on his back. From his accent, I thought that he was German, but he informed me that he was Austrian. He was very rough in his appearance, with at least a week’s growth of beard. He later caught up with me again at a crossroads. He seemed to be going in the wrong way and I had to point out to him the yellow arrow on the roadway indicating the Camino. He was still going the wrong way when I realised that he must have had sight problems also. I was amazed that his relatives would have allowed someone in such a poor physical condition to walk the Camino.
I eventually reached the town of Palas de Rei (Pop. 2,000). I went into a supermarket to get some supplies for the road and the ‘shuffling pilgrim’ was there before me. He was asking the girl in the shop about a hotel, but he did not seem to understand what she was saying. Eventually, an old woman came out from the back and brought him to the hotel.
After another 3 km, I had reached my destination for tonight – Albergue Abrigadoiro in San Xulián. The small farming settlement of San Xulián (St. Julian) is collection of old stone houses with tiled roofs, some inhabited and others falling into decay. In the centre of the village is the Albergue Abrigadoiro, a pilgrim’s hostel housed in a complex of converted farm buildings. I was welcomed by the bearded hospitalero Miguel Angelo and shown to a small dormitory with only 4 beds. It was in an outside building, which I imagined was originally a cow byre. It also had its own toilet/washroom slotted into a corner. A traditional half door ensured that none of the hens or chickens picking around outside would get into my room. There is a magnificent bar and restaurant housed in the main building and the rest of the complex is full of quaint corners with quirky features.
As it was a beautiful sunny afternoon and as I had checked in early, I walked along the route of the Camino to explore the nearby settlements of Ponte Campana and Mato-Casanova.
Later that afternoon, I relaxed with a cold beer outside Albergue Abrigadoiro and watched the age old routine of the farmer and his dog bringing the cows home for milking. That evening, Miguel Angelo served up a delicious 4 course dinner to over 20 hungry pilgrims with considerable style and flair. We were all seated at a long table with a group of boisterous Italians at one end and a group of friendly Americans at the other end. There were also pilgrims present from Germany, France, Canada, Switzerland, and Hungary. I got talking to 2 lovely American ladies – Amy and Suzan – they were oozing with charm – really fun people!
In terms of atmosphere, quaint surroundings, cleanliness, good food and hospitality – I would place Albergue Abrigadoiro in my top 5 of the albergues that I have stayed in on my Camino. I could see straight away that Miguel Angelo was a true hospitalero and that he had dedicated his life to serving the pilgrims.




The next morning, Miguel Angelo was up early to serve up breakfast before we hit the road again. Little did I realise that morning as I set off at around 8AM that today would be one of the most difficult for me on the Camino. Eventually, I reached the Camino marker that indicated that I had now left the Province of Lugo and had entered the Province of A Coruña. As I photographed the marker, I heard a shout from behind – Up Clare! My old friends Liz and Tony had caught up with me again. I joined them for a coffee at a nearby café. I told them about my encounter with ‘The Shuffling Pilgrim’. They had stayed in the same hotel as him in Palas de Rei and Liz, being a nurse, concluded that he must have been suffering from Parkinson’s disease. They said that the people in the hotel did not treat him very well and a put him sitting in a corner away from the other guests.
Drawing nearer to Melide (Pop.8, 000), there are some haphazard modern suburbs and industrial estates to be traversed. A magnificent medieval bridge leads into the village of Furelos and the pilgrim friendly church of San Juan. Outside Melide, I stopped for a picnic and I was joined by Amy & Suzan who gave me some of their muffins.
From Melide, winding pathways traverse shady forests of oak and chestnut, which eventually give way to eucalyptus and pine. I found this stretch to be particularly arduous as there are six river valleys to be crossed – it was very much a case of up and down – over and over again!
In the village of Boente, I stopped off to visit the church there. I had noticed that the churches in the province of A Coruña are more ‘ Spanish ‘ in style with white walls and red tiled roofs and are larger and more ornate than the more austere stone churches to be seen in the mountains of Lugo. The villages too, have more of a ‘Mediterranean ‘appearance.
At Ribadiso, an original medieval pilgrim’s hospital has been wonderfully reconstructed. It is situated in an idyllic riverside setting. Unfortunately, it was closed on the day that I passed by there.
It was now after 5PM, and I was still out in the countryside with no sign of the town of Arzua (Pop. 7,000). I would normally have checked in to an albergue between 1 and 3 PM, and here I am after 9 hours on the Camino and no sign of a town in sight. The Camino had become deserted as most pilgrims would have settled in at this time. I could feel every ounce of energy draining out of my body. It was the first time that I felt that I would not make it. I imagined that all the hostels might be full and that I would have to trudge around town looking for somewhere to stay.
On rounding a corner, there was this man giving out flyers for Albergue Turistico Santiago Apostol in Arzua.He had a van parked nearby, and I asked him if I could travel to the hostel in the van. He said that he would be leaving for Aruza in 15 minutes. That man was a definitely a ‘Good Samaritan’ as I don’t think that I had the energy left to walk on to Aruza. The Albergue Turistico Santiago Apostol, is a large modern high rise building in the centre of Arzua. It offers pilgrim accommodation with all facilities in clean and hygienic surroundings for €7.
After settling in, all that was on my mind was a shower, some food and bed! That day, I had walked 25km and been on the trail for over 9 hours. I felt very tired and worn out – I was just about hanging in there. I should not have worried about finding accommodation as there are 7 pilgrim’s hostels in Aruza.
A ‘restaurant’ at the back of the hostel offered ‘Menú de Peregrinos’, so I wearily made my way there. It was a scruffy little place presided over by an overweight unshaven bloke who must have been the owner. There was a baby in the middle of the floor and he proceeded to serve dinner while at the same time minding and changing the baby. I would not have normally have eaten is such a place but I just did not have the energy to pound the pavements looking for somewhere else. The food in that place was not good.
After dinner, I just checked my e/mails, sent a few messages and hit the sack for a well earned rest. I did not have any interest in exploring the sights of Arzua.




I was now only days from Santiago, so that thought alone kept me going as I left Arzua in the early morning light. On ahead of me was this lady with carrying a walking pole and a small plastic shopping bag. At first, I thought that she was a local person coming from the shops, but when I saw her again at a pilgrim’s rest stop, I concluded that she must be a pilgrim. How anyone could contemplate walking the Camino with just a small plastic shopping bag in her hand defies reason.
It was another glorious day, with clear blue skies and warm sunshine – the temperature must have been over 20C. Just outside Salceda is the melancholy monument to pilgrim Guillermo Watt, who died at this spot aged 69. He was only one day’s walk away from his earthly destination – Santiago de Compostela. Further on, there is wayside memorial to an Irish pilgrim; Myra Brennan aged 52, who died in her sleep in Santiago after completing the Camino.
I had originally planned to stay overnight in Santa Irene, but I did not like the look of the hostels there. Albergue Santa Irene was charging €13 per night for a bed, which I would consider too much. The public hostel was too close to a busy main road. Also, I did not see any convenient bars or restaurants nearby. I decided to press on to Pedrouzo (Arca), where I checked into Albergue Porta de Santiago, a first class establishment. They have soft background music playing throughout the building and a fountain in the dormitory, which creates a very relaxed and restful atmosphere. The charge for the bed at Albergue Porta de Santiago is €10 per night. I had noticed that the nearer one got to Santiago, the higher the prices seemed to be. Pedrouzo is a busy village on the main road from Lugo to San