Day 18

The guidebook we chose for walking the French route of the Camino de Santiago seems to be the most popular. We have John Brierly's abridged version containing mostly maps and locations of albergues. If you use this guide, you'll go from St. Jean to Santiago in 33 stops. The stops range in distance from 18 or so kilometers to over 30. Each stop is pretty much at a major city or hamlet, but you can actually stop anywhere in between that you would like. We've been breaking Brierly's stops into half-stops, so today at Portomarin we're back at a full Brierly stop, and that means it's a small town filled with rooms, lodgings and lots of pilgrims!

Portomarin is a pretty little town of about 2,000 people. It sits on the banks of the Miño  River and probably the most interesting fact about the town is that when the river was flooded in the 1960s by the construction of a new dam, four of the oldest buildings were disassembled, the stones numbered and the buildings were rebuilt on higher ground. It gives the feeling of being in an older town when in reality most everything was built in the 1960s or later and the actual old town lies submerged under the new bridge.

We had left Casa Morgade around 8 a.m. right after breakfast. The two gentlemen and lady from Madrid with whom we had visited the night before came down for breakfast about the same time we did and we enjoyed visiting a bit more.

Just before we left the lady came over to our table and we compared notes for the day ahead of us. We were all headed for Portomarin. She confided that she and her husband were traveling with a friend and she said we might have noticed that he had problems. He had fallen some time back, hit his head and been in a coma for three days. He was doing better now but still recovering, so they had invited him to accompany them on the Camino. She didn't mention it, but it's been said that miracles occur on the Camino. Perhaps they were hoping for one. We bid them farewell, buen camino, and told them our paths might cross again.

As we set out from Morgade, the sun was just coming up and the temperature was in the upper 50s. The morning mists still hung on the hillsides, but they were beginning to burn off. As we set off up the hill we came to a gorgeous view across the way:

It seemed strange to see such an old farmhouse with a television antenna and a car parked outside, but such is life in this part of Spain--the old and the new continually intersect here.

We passed through another "enchanted forest" and we could almost imagine the limbs reacing out to grab us, but we weren't really on our way to Oz so we passed through unhindered.  

Just a bit further along the Camino we came to Cruce Momientos with its 12th century Roman church building. We stepped inside the gate for a look, but the church door was locked. Still, it made a nice picture in the early morning light.

We continued along the path, amazed at the difference it had made choosing to ship our backpacks ahead to Portomarin. We carried only our belly bags with water and a few basic supplies and that was plenty.

Along the way we were joined by a pilgrim from Italy. As we both spoke Spanish as our second language, it took some adjustment before we were able to communicate. We told her where we were from and as many pilgrims have observed, there must be many Spanish speaking people living in our part of the U.S. now for us to speak Spanish so well!

I asked her where she was from and she told me the name of the city in Italy, but it didn't register.  I commented that we were now under 100 kilometers from Santiago and closer to getting our compostella, the official document issued by the Roman Catholic Church that absolves its recipients of all of their sins from birth up until the moment it is issued. I observed that we were getting our compostelas mainly as a souvenir.

She gave me a look and said she had not walked 800 kilometers to receive a souvenir. She had walked all the way from her hometown and was closing in on Santiago.

"Why are you walking the Camino," I asked her.

She looked at me and responded, "No saben." And then she was off, leaving us behind.

What does "no saben" mean, I asked the Spanish teacher accompanying me.

"It means, 'You don't know.'" And that was the end of that conversation!

We stopped a few meters outside of Mercadoiro at a small alberque as we had agreed to stop about 10 for a short pause. We are supposed to get our credentials stamped twice a day now that we are under the 100 km mark, but I managed to forget to have that done. It was a pretty little place and I would have liked to have spent some time right here:

Soon we were moving along again homing in on our target and hoping to make it by mid-day. We had two livestock encounters, though nothing like the previous day. At one point as we were walking up a paved road we looked and here came a herd of sheep AND cows. I always thought the two didn't mix, but they seemed to be getting along fine.

Not too much further along we were walking a portion of the Camino that was lined by stone walls on either side. Suddenly at the curve ahead of us in the narrow trail we noticed a black-and-white cow. And then another and another and another! The whole herd was heading our way and there was nothing to do but step to one side and hope they continued along. We looked behind us and there was a troop of Italian bicyclists who were having a worse time with the cows than we were. They were soon past with no harm done, however.

Finally we rounded a corner in the trail and saw our small town off in the distance--Portomarin! We could hardly wait to get there, but as has been the case, the longest part of the day has been that section when you can see where you are going but you still have to walk the last couple of kilometers!

As we got closer, I couldn't help but be reminded of the town of Rivendale in The Lord of the Rings, and I hoped we would be safe from the Nazgul here. We passed the three young Italian girls we had met earlier, and a guy was helping one of them with her shoe. The sole had pulled loose from the upper portion and had been flapping, or "talking" as the guy observed. With the European equivalent of duct tape he soon had her walking again.

We reached the bridge to town about the same time they did and enjoyed the view as we crossed the lake into Portomarin. The height of the bridge was troubling to Sharon, but the steep staircase at the end of the bridge leading up into town worried both of us!

We managed to skirt around the stairs after crossing the bridge and were soon in the middle of the little town. Sure enough, there stood the tall church. It must have been a daunting task to take it apart stone by stone, numbering each stone as they went so that it could be rebuilt higher up on dry ground.

We soon found directions to the little pension where we were staying and sat out on the patio while the young innkeeper busied himself getting us checked in. Our bags hadn't arrived yet, but they should be in soon. We enjoyed sitting on the patio and soaking up the noon-time sun.

Finally our room was ready, and we discovered it was around the corner and about a block up the street. We hoofed it up there and discovered we had not only a tremendous view of the lake, but again a nice shower with multiple jets. It must be all the rage in Spain!

I journeyed into town to grab a couple of bocadillos for our lunch. I had pork and Sharon had a cheese sandwich, as her tummy had been a bit queasy. We ate in our room, took a short nap, then set out to finish exploring the town.  

The city was teeming with young tourists, and it seemed there were albergues on every corner, in addition to the rather large municipal one. Right next to the municipal albergue we found the city's monument to aguardent. See if you can figure out the meaning of that word from the device that is used to produce it!

Let's see: agua is water, ardente means burning, or fire. So aguardent would be firewater! I believe this exists back in Arkansas as well!

It's a pretty little town, though being built on the side of a hill means everything is either up or down. There were quite a few shops and lots of coffee shops and restaurants, but for some reason the people here just didn't seem as open or friendly as they had been elsewhere along our Camino. Maybe it was just the fact that it was Monday! We enjoyed our visit nonetheless.

Back at our room waiting for dinner time, we found it fascinating to watch the Iberian eagles soaring over the water and town below them. I took several pictures with my Lumix and I hope they turn out well. Here's one:

Finally it was time for dinner and we ate fairly early, just after 7. Sharon had a cheese omlette and I had heard that we just had to try the polpa Gallego--the Galician octopus. I enjoyed mine, but I must confess it did not live up to the grilled squid we had enjoyed two nights earlier in Sarria. You can most likely tell from the photos that it was delicious!

We seemed to have discovered the most comfortable way to do the Camino for us. We asked the young man at our hotel for a recommendation in Ligonde, but he suggested we go just under a kilometer further to Eirexe, where we would find another nice pension with private room and bathroom for just 30 euros. We arranged to have our backpacks shipped tomorrow also, as the cost is just three euros per bag. It saves our backs and speeds up our transit time!

So here's our route for tomorrow:

There's a pretty good climb ahead of us, according to Brierly's book, as we go from about 300 meters in altitude to 720 when we crest the high point. We also will need to walk about 16 kilometers tomorrow, or a little over 10 miles. We have been blessed with good weather for most of the trip and hope that it holds out tomorrow as well.

Why are we doing this?

¡No saben!

Day 17

We decided that today was one of the most difficult days of the Camino, second only to that first full day when we climbed Alto del Perdon and then descended on the rocks going down. Probably what made it harder today was the fact that we are in the mountains and we climbed nearly 200 meters as we walked. Also, we had read in Brierly's guide that we would "pass through many small hamlets...and few offer any facilities. So again we should bring some provisions with us." We actually packed a lunch and it is surprising the effect that one small bag of groceries will have on your backpack!

But the day was well worth the effort! The 12 kilometers we walked were some of the prettiest of the trip so far. Each region we have passed through has its own kind of beauty, and they seem to grow prettier as we move along!

We left Sarria about 8 a.m. and were filled with optimism as we paused for a "selfie" right outside our hostel, by which the Camino passed on its way through town:

The clam shell motif and the arrow are present all along the way, and it would be really difficult to get lost. We have yet to lose our way, despite a short detour this morning where a bridge was undergoing improvements. We snapped a picture of a goose just launching into the water and it was a pretty scene by which to remember Sarria:

I had read on someone else's blog about the stairs leading out of town, and they gave us a good cardio start to the day. It was cool and brisk, temperature just easing into the 60s as we started. Fascinating how the granite steps had been worn by literally the millions of footsteps that passed over them!

We soon reached the top of the stairs and I stopped for a moment to take a picture of one of the church building, then the view back over the city. Both were gorgeous in the early morning light!

Most of the Camino today was on natural pathways, although several parts were on the paved country road. At one point the Camino crossed the rails into Sarria while high overhead the elevated roadway carried automotive traffic. As we passed that three-way intersection, a couple of locomotives came barrelling down the rails, singing their locomotive song. I took some video with my camera and will have to share it at some future point.

It wasn't long before we were in Barbadelo, maybe 3-4 kilometers outside of Sarria. As we had been advised to have our credentials stamped twice per day this close to Santiago, we stopped at the albergue at the edge of town which had a coffee shop and also advertised a swimming pool. If it's 60 degrees the end of June, when would anyone swim, I wondered! We had a nice cup of coffee to supplement our breakfast caffeine in Sarria:

One thing we noticed anout this part of the Camino was the amount of water in the form of springs and streams. It wasn't unusual to see a small stream literally pouring into the Camino and a stone pathway built to cross it:

We saw at least three water crossings like this one, and we investigated the provenance of a couple of these and noticed they were coming from underground springs. There were also a number of bridges. 

At this particular bridge we stopped to take a picture and a young lady from the Basque Country stopped and asked us to take her picture as well. I took it with her phone and we discussed how our voyages were going. She enthusiastically showed me several pictures she had taken that showed the beauty of the countryside that we had skipped over. After a very pleasant visit, she was off and we were left to take our photo on the bridge. There wasn't a troll under it as far as we could tell!

The next bridge led into what we called the Enchanted Forest, and we could hear the sound of some kind of musical instrument being played in the distance. We crossed this bridge very carefully!

The track started up the hill quite steeply and the forest was very thick and lush. After a short walk we came upon a couple of guys who had set up a make-shift coffee shop with juice, water, cookies and other goodies, along with a stick of incense burning. One of the young men was making music on a piece of flexible PVC pipe, and it had quite a mournful tune. They had a tent set up beside the trail and a placard inviting pilgrims to stop for a snack and help them out financially. They were from Estonia and had been travelling for over a year but were now trying to get home. We wished them well!

The countryside was beautiful and one of the hardest parts of the day was limiting the number of pictures I took. By 1 pm my battery was warning me it was nearly discharged! Each turn produced another view, each of postcard quality or better.  It is a lovely country! 

The view above was taken after quite a strenuous climb, and we realized that the train and trail crossing had been just beneath the elevated highway we were now seeing from high up above.

The hamlets were small, and certainly there were no supermarkets, but it wasn't uncommon to find a bar/cafe in many of them. At one crossroads we came to, we stopped for about our second or third break and purchased what must have been one of the largest croissants we have ever seen!

This cafe was like many we had seen, using a series of hanging strips or strings to act as a kind of screen door. The morning sun coming through the door made a pretty picture, but as I turned to go inside, who should I see but an old friend!

Couldn't resist taking his picture, but I suspect I have taken more of him than I have of me! I was glad to see him, though, as the sun warmed us up quite a bit.

One of the things we enjoyed seeing all along the Camino and particularly in this part, was the variety of flowers, both planted and wild. One could produce a whole chapter on just flowers along the Camino and I suspect someone has! Enjoy some of the varieties and colors we have seen:

You may have noticed the flowers in the blue containers. They appeared to be five-litre plastic containers that had had the side cut out and dirt placed in them. Very ingenious, and picturesque!

As we were leaving one of the small hamlets and had paused to take a picture, one of the local residents greeted us. "Espere!" he said. Wait! His Spanish was a little difficult for me to understand, but I was sure he had said wait. He had a couple of bottles in one hand and something else in the other. He wanted us to wait while he set the bottles down, then as he approached he handed me what was in the other. A couple of walnuts. For our Camino! I offered him the sack of cherries I had been carrying, but he graciously refused, since after all we were the pilgrims, not him.  

He had maybe two teeth left in his head and I couldn't guess at his age. I had some difficulty pronouncing his name, but I think I finally got it right. Dionísio. He was so glad to help us along our way, even with just a couple of walnuts, which we enjoyed after dinner tonight. I had to have my picture made with him!

Pray for me when you get to Santiago, he asked. We will, we promised. Then we were on our way again.

We walked through some of the prettiest farming communities you can imagine and saw all manner of things growing. We were now in vegetable and fruit country, so there were no longer the wheat fields of the earlier days. What gorgeous farms and agriculture we saw!

It was by now after 12 noon and we were becoming anxious about arriving at our overnight lodging at Casa Morgade, a restored 12th century farmhouse. According to its own advertisement, part of its claim to fame was that it stood at the 99.5 kilometer mark to Santiago, the first stop inside the mark that would earn you your Compostela. So we, and obviously others before us, were happy to see this milestone, although I suppose you should call it a kilometer stone!

Just half a kilometer to go until our lodging. And what an exciting greeting we would have to the place! Just as we caught a glimpse of the old farmhouse, the road descended towards the entrance, and there was a gate leading into a barn. Three young Italian ladies asked if I would take their picture in front of the gate, and just as I agreed to do so, suddenly a dog began barking and then a rather large cow poked his head out of the barn, followed by another and then by a farmlady with a stick. She was trying to no avail to control the cows and something was about to happen. Given the size of the cows, we gave them some room! She almost had these two under control when out came the largest of all, complete with a set or horns! Followed by more cows. The dog and the stick lady tried to aim the cattle in the right direction and the Italian girls scattered, as did we.

I took some video while Sharon laughed and laughed and I told her that now was our chance to run with the bulls. As almost the entire herd passed in front, one of the girls thought it funny to shout "Toro, toro, toro"! The owner of Casa Morgade, however, didn't think it funny in the least and came running out of the cafe. "Don't do that, don't do that!" he warned. We were grateful that we didn't run with the bulls!

Soon they were all past and the lady managed to lead them into the pasture just past our hostel. They were a sight to see! I photographed this pictures off my camera screen, so pardon the quality, but it will give you an idea of what happened!

Both we and the cows were glad when they got from the barn to the pasture!

We went on in and inquired about our room and the people inside were so friendly and helpful. The room wasn't quite clean yet, but if we would just rest awhile as the cleaning was finished. We were ushered into a living area and were glad to take off our shoes and rest awhile. Five more minutes and we would have fallen asleep on the couch!

Imagine spending the night in a farmhouse that is nearly 1,000 years old. That is just what we did! The building was constructed of massive granite blocks, but the inside had been completely rebuilt. Throughout the whole building was a wonderful collection of old telephone, radios, cameras and tools from a bygone era. Just take a look!

If you are ever travelling through here, we would highly recommend Casa Morgade! For just 39 euros we had a private room with our own bathroom and shower, although not the high tech multi-spray which we had seen elsewhere. The food was delicious, our clothes were washed and dried for us and we even got to watch a bit of the World Cup as the Netherlands and Mexico faced off against each other.

There's no town to speak of here, just Casa Morgade, and the sello or stamp for our credentials was self-service. We had no wi-fi so we'll just have to save this post for later. There was a small chapel just adjacent to the farm and it afforded another photo opportunity from the window of our room:

We enjoyed visiting with two men and a lady from the Madrid area and we compared observations about our two countries. She was most interested in what we thought about President Obama and we queried her on her thoughts about the new king.

One observation she made struck us as particularly astute. Americans have more of a sense of unity than do the people of her country. If you live in Basque Country, you are a Basque. If you live in Galicia, you are Galician. But no matter which state you live in in our country, you are 100 per cent American. And both countries have many regional differences, depending upon whether you live in the north, south, east or west.

Tomorrow we plan to walk about the same distance as we did today, but given our fatigue of today, we made arrangements to ship our backpacks on ahead of us. Doing so meant we had to know where we were staying, and the kind gentleman running the place was glad to make a reservation for us and provide us with shipping tags for our mochillas. We went to bed grateful to know that all our clothes were clean, we would not have to carry backpacks tomorrow and the weather forecast called for another sunny day. Google Maps says it's not even three hours' walking time, but we know better!

See you tomorrow, Portomarin, and buen camino!