September 24, 2018
- Route: Pradela to Filloval
- Distance: 38.1 kilometers (23.62 miles)
It was up another early morning rise, even though I didn’t set my alarm. I heard the Belgian couple rustling around in the dark to get ready, and it pretty was hard to convince myself to go back to sleep. After such a wonderful day yesterday, I was in a great mood and didn’t even mind the getting up before the sun.
Since I was on a Camino alternate, I’d roamed around Pradela yesterday afternoon making sure to note the markings on the road out of town. As a result, I felt pretty confident that I was on the right path when I departed the albergue, even though it was still pitch black outside.
The road to Trabadelo
I soon found myself lost in my thoughts while walking on the road in the dark with just my headlamp. I was just ambling down the road, with a smile on my face reading to take on another great day. This mountain alternate totally rejuvenated me and I can’t wait to see what’s next.
Barely ten minutes from the albergue, I encountered a white arrow painted on the asphalt pointing sharply to the left onto a dirt road. As I walked over the arrow, I noticed that it looked white instead of the typical yellow of most Camino arrows, but I just assumed it had either faded with time or looked lighter in the dim glow of my headlamp.
After walking down a fairly steep hill for about half a mile, I finally came upon a tree with sign nailed to it. The trail forked at this spot, the wooden sign had blue arrows painted on it pointing in opposite directions. And then there was a second sign with yellow arrow with the word Camino, and it pointed back in the direction I’d come from! Doh!
That’s when I realized I must have mistakenly turned onto a local hiking or mountain biking path, and NOT the route back to the Camino. Time to backtrack and return to the junction where I followed the white arrow off trail. It kind of felt like my departure from Fromista all over again. At least I hadn’t walked too far in the wrong direction.
When I made it back up the hill, I could see another headlamp stopped on the main road. It was the Belgians. They were looking down at the same white arrow I followed and pondering whether to turn left or not. As they pulled out their phones to double check the route map, they saw my headlamp coming toward them and decided to wait a moment.
We all had a good laugh at my wrong turn as I explained this was definitely NOT the way down to the Camino, and we began to walk on the main road together. Not 50 feet past the junction, we saw another arrow (yellow this time) with the word Camino pointing straight ahead. If I’d approached the junction in daylight, I’m sure it would have been so obvious. I would have seen the white arrow pointing to the left and then seen the yellow one ahead in the distance directing me the correct way. Ah, the perils of walking the Camino in the dark.
Autumn is here!
The main route back down to the valley and the town of Trabadelo was pretty steep. I pulled ahead of the Belgians before long, as both of whom were struggling with knee pain on their descent.
When I finally made it to town, I determined Trabadelo wasn’t much to look at. It had all the modern conveniences of a small town, with restaurants and several albergues. But it definitely didn’t have the charm of the tiny mountain town I’d just spent the night in. Taking the alternate was absolutely the right choice for me.
Now that I was back on the primary Camino route, it felt a little dull. It followed the autovía for a bit, weaving its way under the highway several times, until I arrived at Valcarce – which was essentially a truck stop with a small restaurant and cafe. I wasn’t really hungry, but I was really craving a hot coffee to warm up my hands. Even though the sun was now up, it was cloudy and cold outside. The autumn weather was showing itself and I was even wearing my jacket and gloves.
I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that the weather is finally changing with the season. It will be October in another week! Nonetheless, the past few weeks have been so warm (and because the meseta had been blazing hot) that I’d been tricked into thinking summer might go on forever.
The chilly morning was a reminder that as the days continue to get shorter, they are bound to get much cooler too. I only hope the nicer weather holds out until I finish the Camino. I only have about 160 kilometers until I get to Santiago, with means I should be there inside of a week. It’s hard to believe this journey is almost over!
Cows!
The sun finally broke out of the sky around 11 a.m., as the Camino began to slowly climb toward O Cebreiro. As I was walking along a relatively flat section lost in my thoughts again, I was pulled back to reality by a series of clanging metal bells. I looked around to see its source and I was surprised to see that there was a herd of cows coming directly toward me on the trail!
A farmer was moving the herd right up the same dirt road that the pilgrims used to walk on. As they got closer, I could see most of these cattle were HUGE and their sharp horns were headed right in my direction.
I pulled off the trail, trying not to spook any of the herd passing just inches from me. After all, it probably wouldn’t make a very good story back home if I got gored by a rogue cow in Spain. This wasn’t the running of bulls after all.
Hobbitt Houses
Following my bovine encounter, the Camino began to climb back into the mountains, past local farms and valleys. There was a small queseria with a hand-painted sign offering goat cheese. Geese and ducks paced back and forth in their enclosures. Horse, sheep, and more cows dotted the fields beside the Camino. Man, I was definitely in a different part of Spain now!
The trail continued climbing up toward the town of O Cebreiero. Originally just a tiny village of dairy farmers, it was now a thriving tourist destination perched high up on a ridge. When I finally reached it, there were throngs of people everywhere. Tour buses drove them up the mountain, and now they were busy gazing at these traditional round mountain homes with domed thatched roofs called pallozas that looked like something straight out of The Hobbit!
Excited to see a familiar face
I wasn’t ready to see quite so many people milling about, and had to dodge a bunch of oblivious sightseers popping in and out of shops with their trinkets in hand. Toward the end of town there was a small grocery store with tables and chairs outside. I grabbed a Peregrina beer and a snack, and settled into to enjoy some sunshine and rest my weary feet.
As I was sitting there, my Slovenian acquaintance, Tomas, wandered up to the the table with a bottle of Coke and chocolate bar and asked to join me. I hadn’t seen him since our crazy 53 kilometer day almost a week ago! Oh it was so good to see a familiar face!
We chatted for a bit, and I learned that Tomas is, in fact, an marathon runner. But that’s where his story took a turn. He shared that he’d been diagnosed with brain cancer five years back, and then he took of his hat to show me a gnarly scar that wound nearly the entire way around his bald scalp.
He told me all about his recovery, and how he spent days and weeks reflecting on what was important. He swore to himself he’d stop taking everything for granted if he survived. When he was strong enough, he took up running, eventually working up to marathon races and decided to start going on epic trips like the Camino de Santiago. Man, I felt immensely inspired just sitting there sharing his story!
Countdown
After our break, Tomas and I bid each other good luck and started back down the mountain separately. On the way down, I noticed that there were more regularly spaced pillars marking the way. And they now showed the remaining number of kilometers until Santiago on them.
It’s surreal to think this journey is nearly over. There were times when I felt like I had so far to go. Now, I can nearly taste the end of my journey and it feels like it’s going to be done too soon.
Hiking a long trails is a lot like parenthood. Each minute feels like an hour. Each hour feels like a day. Each day feels like a month. Time seems to move so excruciatingly slow while you’re in the mix of it. Then all, of a sudden, you turn around and notice the years have slipped by. Your little baby is starting school, or becoming a teenager. And you wonder where it all went.
The days have really flown by out here. Each one felt difficult and long as I was going through it, but now looking back, it feels like I was just walking over the Pyrenees yesterday. Now I’m officially in the last province I’ll walk through, Galicia!
I’m so glad I’ve made this journey. After all, the days are going to pass regardless of whether you are sitting at a desk grinding them out or off living a big adventure. I’d rather spend my limited time on this earth living intentionally like Tomas.
I’m in heaven
After O Cebriero, the Camino stayed up at a higher elevation and rolled through more hills and picturesque valleys. There was a steady variety of livestock and farms as I made may way between the peaks on Alto de San Roque and Alto de Poio.
I started to get tired near Fonfría, and went into the bars there to ask about a room. The place seemed pitch black inside, blocking out the bright sun, and my eyes took a minute to adjust to the change. When I could finally see, I asked about the albergue, and the the bartender shrugged and told me they were full. I guess I’d need to keep walking.
I pushed on to Filloval, and found a small restaurant and bar there too. Unlike the last place, this bar had light streaming in and felt airy and modern. When I asked about a room, I was pleasantly surprised there was something available and snatched it up quickly before promising to come back and grab dinner.
When I returned, I noticed they had several vegetarian options, and ordered Russian salad, a bowl of lentils, and beer. While waiting for my food, I made my way outside to grab one of the tables and look at the pink sky that was working it’s way toward sunset.
I couldn’t believe my luck when the food arrived. Everything so was so delicious. This was, hands down, the tastiest meal I’d eaten since I arrived in Spain. The food was seasoned perfectly. The portions were large enough to quell my hiker hunger. The fresh bread that came with the lentils was still warm. Man, I was in heaven!
These past two days really have been the best part of my Camino!! Great food. Great company. Beautiful mountain scenery. I can appreciate why the Belgian guy I met wanted yesterday came to Spain to walk the Camino every year. I’m not sure I could imagine a better version of this adventure.
