The whispers ebb away at the subconscious, a glimpse of torch light dance across closed eyelids and the rustle of bags being repacked becomes the chorus of the Camino awakening. A night in an albergue, Deja Vu!
It is from Ponferrada that our feet first hit the Camino trail and romantic memories from our last sojourn filter back. Excitedly, we diligently watch out for arrows and shells, as we try to shake the jet-lag. We pass through Compostilla Iglesia Santa Maria, where street art frames the portico; onto the sleepy hamlet of Fuentus Nuevas, until we reach Cacabelos, where we sleep the night in the grounds of the Capilla de Las Augustia XVII. A celebration is had, as we sit by the river, making toasts with vino tinto to the freedom of the Camino!
Darkness and rain greet us as we set out from Cacabelos to God knows where. The first 2kms sees us illuminated by our headtorches as we follow the way out of town. A crackling hum of power lines guided us through vineyards, as early morning farmers, waved purple stained hands in greeting. Our way took us through Villafranco del Biezo, where churches dominate the skyline and an 8.50 Euro stick of deodorant awaits to be purchased. Some may see the correlation here! Unfortunately, we missed the scenic alternative route and instead, were thrown onto a main arterial road that heaves fumes and spits up asphalt. On to the hamlet of Trabadelo, where serendipity takes control and we stop at Casa Susi. We learn of a love story between our hosts, Susi and Fermon and how the Camino is intertwined with fate. We share a communal meal, stories and experiences over a couple of bottles local of vinos. Laughter fills the Casa and we go to bed knowing that the Camino has once again provided a day of memories.
We awake next morn with the knowledge that our day ahead will involve conquering the highest peak on the way of St James - O'Cebreiro. To reach this beast of a peak, we pass through hamlets of Abasement, Ruitelan, La Faba and Launa de Cada, which blur into one and seem to have the same picturesque postcard setting of ramshakle houses, balconies in bloom, undulating hills, combined with a distinct aroma of cow dung.
The trek up to the peak was a brut- a gut busting event. Our poles propped and propelled us forward, little by little as the lactic acid made our legs buckle, and the sweat cascaded from every pore. They do say 'no pain, no gain' and this is true of the El Camino. Arriving at the summit of O'Cebrerio and looking out across the plateau, we have a clear understanding of the meaning of such a saying.
Onward to Tricastela, and our thoughts move to Sarria and Santiago de Compostella. Our plan had been to walk to Sarria then catch a train to Santiago, but as we completed the first section quicker than expected, we decide to walk on. A decision of some regret. A few days short of Santiago, the crowds flooded the path, designer gear sparkled and pilgrim tourists walked with beers rather than hiking poles. Cafes and bars were six deep as people fought over a stamp for their credential and tour buses wait at designated areas to pick up passengers to drop off at the next scenic stretch. The beauty of the landscape was dissolved by the masses and in hindsight, we should have by-passed this section and started on our way to Fisterra earlier.
The Camino has always been about the 3C's - Challenge, Community and Conversation. It is at the many Albergues that conversations flow over vino tinto and questions always filter back to why, the Camino. Stories are retold to new companions who will be replaced at the next Albergue and so the cycle continues.
Postscript: Made it to Santiago and waited 5 hours at the Pilgrim Office to get our Compostela. (of which, we now have 2)
Baked Eggs
