September 23, 2018
- Route: Ponferrada to Pradela
- Distance: 31.3 kilometers (19.53 miles)
I was awake early this morning and decided to depart Ponferrada before the sun came up. On my way out of town, I was really hoping to get some good photos of the medieval castle in the center of town. I failed to take some pictures last night on my way back to the hostel after dinner, but figured I could get a few this morning instead. The castle is backlit at night, and looks really interesting up against the dark sky. Unfortunately, it was super foggy when I set out just after 6:30 am, and you could barely see the castle from more than about four feet away. So no cool night photos for me.
I have to admit I was also a bit on edge this morning after passing the castle. The route leaving out of town felt weird and sketchy because of all the fog. The Camino followed bike paths and meandered through several parks and under highway overpasses. I knew I was safe, especially since there were plenty of early morning pilgrims walking and a handful of people jogging on the paths. Nonetheless, being socked in by the fog made me just feel like the boogeyman was going to jump out of the shadows.
Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I don’t like walking through the larger cities in the early morning. In the small villages and towns, I felt no hesitation about my well-being – even in the dark. But, I definitely I feel a need to be far more cautious among the concrete jungle and buldings. I’m also realizing I simply not a “city person.” I prefer the quiet and open space of the countryside over groups of people and amenities in most cities.
By the time the sun came up though, I was back out in the farmlands again and in a much more relaxed mindset. The fog lingered over the fields until it was fully bright out and slowly burned off. The extra particles in the air from the fog also made views on the horizon seem much more colorful this morning.
Some unusual sights
Although I spent the the first few hours of the day roadwalking, but eventually the Camino wove itself back out onto dirt trails amid the cattle pastures and farm land. While strolling by the fields, I got a bit curious and stopped to check out some of the late summer and fall vegetables still on the vine. Imagine my surprise to see zucchini that were big to feed an entire village. The fertile soil out here in this part of Spain seems to be doing it’s job, for sure.
Another amusing sight I stumbled upon in the country was an old bus someone converted into a motorhome. I recently moved into an RV to travel around the US full-time, so I find I’m am always on the look out for other RVs to see how the locals live this nomadic lifestyle.
I’ve seen my fair share of small RVs here in Europe, but they always tend to be closer in size to a van. That makes complete sense, since there’s so little room maneuver your RV in some of the older European cities with their narrow streets and ancient bridges. So seeing a giant bus conversion like this one was a rather unusual sight, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking a few photos.
Another wine region
After the farms and fields, I could begin to see grape vineyards off in the distance. It’s been a while since I departed the Rioja region, which is pretty much synonymous with Spanish wine production. And, while Rioja is the predominant and most famous wine-producing region in Spain, it’s not the only one out there. Today I would enter the mountainous Bierzo wine region, which is known for producing Mencia grapes.
I soon discovered that wine production has always been popular in this part of Spain. And there were plenty of relics along the Camino for pilgrims to stop and learn about of ancient winemaking. In one instance, there was even a giant wine press on display. It consisted of a giant beam of articulated chestnut wood and a spindle used to squeezed the grapes like a vice to produce their juice for fermenting. Pretty cool!
After seeing how time-consuming and labor intensive this traditional wine-making process was, my curiosity about the local wines was definitely sparked. So, as I headed into the charming town of Villafranca de Bierzo for lunch and I decided to pop into a local wine bar. It was time for my palate to try something other than my typical order of Spanish tempranillo.
The Mountain Alternate
As I enjoyed my glass of local wine with lunch, I had another decision to make. My Camino app showed a major fork just up the road. The primary Camino route ran parallel to the Autovía A-6. This is the main highway the traverses the northwest part of Spain from Madrid to the Atlantic coast. It’s a major artery of fast moving cars and lots of noise akin to the Autobahn in Germany or Interstate-95 on the East Coast of the U.S.
The Camino Frances also has a mountain alternate between Villafranca del Beirzo and the town of Trabadelo that bypasses this uninteresting stretch of highway, but very few pilgrims choose to take it. First of all, the mountain alternate is several kilometers longer. Second, unlike the main Camino route that remains in the valley, the alternate climbs steeply into the mountains and follows the ridge line for the next 12 kilometers. Finally, there’s only one tiny town on the mountain route with a small family-run albergue. Thus, most pilgrims opt to stick to the easier route beside the noisy autovía with more amenities.
After considering my two options, there wasn’t any doubt in my mind which route I’d choose to take. I’ve had my fill of walking on (or beside) noisy roads lately, and I had all afternoon to make that 12 kilometers. I didn’t care if the mountain alternate was insanely steep and long. I had ZERO desire to walk along a major autovía this afternoon.
Mountains
I now understand why so many pilgrims feared the steep, hard climb out of Villafranca. The mountain route was the most challenging terrain I’d seen my entire time out here on the Camino. Although I had all afternoon to walk the distance, the time of day I tackled this section certainly added to its difficulty. The afternoon sky didn’t sport a single cloud and the sun was brutally intense, yet again. In just a matter of minutes of hiking, I was out of breath with sweat rolling down my face, back, and neck in all the effort.
Once I made it up on the ridge though, the effort was so worth it. My views of the autovía below in the valley and the surrounding trees reinforced that I’d made the correct decision in taking the harder route. I could hear the birds rather than dozens of cars zooming by. The landscape and mountains were exactly what I’d been longing for after so many days of roadwalking.
On my way toward the tiny village of Pradela, I passed a handful of unique homes perched up in the mountains and surrounded by rolling hills of vineyards. The houses’ light colored stucco seemed to glow in the afternoon sun, and created one of those picturesque scenes that so many Americans imagine when they think of Europe. It was a feast for the eyes!
A blast from the past
Working my way past fields of pumpkins and other fall vegetables, I finally encountered Pradela. It was not much more than a sprinkling of homes and a large community garden that stretched for several acres. I’d read there would be a single, small albergue and bar to stop in before heading back down into the valley toward Trabadelo where the mountain alternate rejoined the main Camino.
Pradela seemed like a truly unspoiled spot to stop, and I’d guess it’s what the Camino felt like decades ago when it was far less popular. No crowds, no stores hawking souvenirs, and no internet service. There was no question I’d choose to stay the evening here instead of heading back down to the hustle and bustle below.
The albergue owners were kind and friendly, offering me something to drink before I even checked in or put down my pack. Once I settled in and showered, I took an ice cold beer outside to their patio and noticed there were just two other pilgrims in town that day willing to brave the mountain alternate. What a treat!
Passion for the Camino
As I sat out on the patio, I introduced myself to the couple – both of whom spoke fluent English. I soon learned they were from Belgium, and the man came to Spain each year to walk for a month of the Camino. He said he just couldn’t get it out from under his skin, and he’d been walking bits of it every summer/fall for the past 16 years! He’d walked the entire Camino Frances route several times, as well as the Camino Portugues, Camino del Norte, and Camino Primitivo.
His wife was the other pilgrim, but didn’t really share his passion for hiking long distances. She would fly out and join him for a 5- to 7-day section each year before returning home to pursue her hobbies while he continued to walk more and more of the Camino. I asked what he loved so most about the Camino, and he admitted it was the small towns like the one we were currently sitting in. Back in Belgium, he was constantly surrounded by people, so having the peaceful respite and seeing remote chunks of Spain just called him back year after year.
He was also excited to share this was his last year flying to Spain from Belgium. After retiring a few months earlier, they’d just bought a small house out on the coast near Muxia. They hadn’t sold their place in Belgium yet, and intended to keep a small flat there because it was close to family. But, the prospect of moving to Spain full-time this winter left him giddy with excitement. I couldn’t help getting wrapped up in his elation because you could just see the gleam in in his eyes!
We continued our conversation during a home-cooked meal in the albergue, with lots of local vegetables, fresh salad with goat cheese. The proprietors also served a delicious dessert with a chestnut syrup they made from the local trees that impressed our palates. This was undoubtedly my favorite night on the Camino. The opportunity to meet so many interesting, thoughtful, and kind people while being out in nature was exactly what I’d hope to get out of this Camino experience.