21/06/07 Casa Domingo to Arzua

21/06/07

Casa Domingo to Arzua

I left and the others were still surfacing. I saw the donkey as I came out. I had not seen much of them but had realised the three French ladies were here, in bunks near the door. I hoped we had not made too much noise last night.


I had breakfast and a coffee at the bar and took my leave of Ana. You are so limited to what you can say when you only have a small choice of words in Spanish to use.
I had been very short of money on arrival as I had not found a bank and had explained that to her. She in turn had gone to great lengths to help me know what I was spending so I wouldn’t be embarrassed by not being able to pay the bill. Shucks! you meet some wonderful people on camino. They give you new faith in the possibility of peace in the world.
I set off up the road very slowly feeling quite tired and put it down to the wine last night. The youngsters soon caught me up and were going flat out. I put that down to my conversation with Carla the dark haired young man that I had spent much of my time with. I had said I was without company as I seem to walk faster than most. The competition would to be to outstrip this old peregrino and being young they soon did.
He had said they had been travelling from the French border. They may have been, but I doubted it had been all on this one trip. They were too fresh and strong, even the girls, and none wore boots but rather clean sports shoes. Ok I know some do, but most use a tougher boot if they're going all the way. It made no difference to me, but I did try to keep up to be able to enjoy their young enthusiasm but I had a toe that started to blister again. These boots of mine were no doubt one size to small and they had plagued me the entire journey. But even if they hadn't I would not keep up with my 17 kilo of pack and 67 years. I was not feeling too bright and had the occasional sneeze too.
I let them go and looked for a bank but never saw one in any of the little villages.
































Just before Melide, in the little village of Furelos, the little church was open. I had been in before but I was not giving up a chance to visit it again. It contains a statue of Christ on the cross and he has one arm free and the priest explained it is one of only three or four like that.



It's a very well carved form too, I got a buzz from seeing how the priest was so proud of it.

















I also noted with interest a small figure of Santiago,
dressed as a pilgrim with staff and gourd, accompanied by a dog and a small angel with a light. The main figure is showing you a wound in his leg. A much gentler figure than the one I had seen in Santiago City of El Mato de Moros! I liked this one for I felt this was the man that had accompanied me on that last bit of El Ebro. There had been times when I was walking that I could turn my eyes to my right and see a strange ripple in the air, and could feel him there! I knelt and said my thanks and left. I know I spoke to some friend coming in but am not sure now who it was.
Next Melide, a busy town where I know the north Primativo camino meets the French camino for I had come there with Piero and Paco and eaten octopus (pulpo) and got paralytic drunk at our party to say goodbye to Paco as he was leaving us that next morning. Now I passed the same famous pulpo restaurant and could see my young Spanish friends eating there. I passed, found the bank and drew some cash, then returned to join them eating. It got quite noisy with our singing and the girls dancing.
















Having eaten, it was time to go and we left and parted company again at the edge of town.
It's probably 14 kilometres to Arzua and I found it hard going especially at first, as I kept remembering walking here with Piero. I realised I was getting near my goal now and had to decide what to do next. It troubled me that Maisie wanted me home and I should maybe call it a day on reaching Santiago, but it's hard to change your plans. I had planned so much more! But I was beginning to feel something was wrong too, I didn't feel as fit as I should be at this stage!
I had no real friend with me to discuss things with, this on any of my caminos was unusual in itself. But this Ebro camino had been very different.




















At last I came to the town but didn't recognise the place, at the time I don't know why. It was afterwards that I realised my last time here had been arriving from the true North camino and meeting Cathy and Marie in an older part of town. Now these streets in front of me meant nothing to me as I looked for arrows and an albergue. Everywhere seemed to be full, but at last I met the boys of my group from last night and on their information found a bed in a modern but cold unfeeling sort of place. Going into town after cleaning up, I suddenly found myself in the square where I had met Cathy two years ago. Here I now met some of the Spanish girls. I love this square it buzzes with life, there are peregrinos everywhere. The meeting of caminos is just here too. We had drinks in a bar sitting at a table looking at the street and I couldn't have been much company I'm afraid. I just felt so tired and the waitress had an awful cold, then I too started sneezing. I excused myself and returned to my bunk hoping I had not caught her cold. I text Maisie;
Arrive Arzua OK. One toe not too happy. Go slow tomorrow – I need a day off!!!!!

Since I put this day on the net I have been informed that the statuette was not Santiago but Saint Rock or Roque in Spanish and you can view the information I got here at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portal:Saints

Saint Roch
Pilgram
Born c. 1295 est., Montpellier, France
Died 1327
Feast August 16
Attributes Wound of thigh, dog offering bread
Patronage pilgrims, against diseases (especially the plague), gravediggers, second-hand dealers, dogs
Saints Portal

Saint Roch (Latin: Rochus; Italian: Rocco; French: Roch; Spanish and Portuguese: Roque; c. 1295 – traditionally 16 August 1327[1]) was a Christian saint, a confessor whose death is commemorated on 16 August; he is specially invoked against the plague.

END DAY 37 = approx. 25.7 km Sub Total = 575.9 km Total = 908.0 km

20/06/07 Gonzar to Casa Domingo

20/06/07

Gonzar to Casa Domingo

I awoke early but went back to sleep and I overslept as most were gone when I next opened my eyes.. My washing had been taken down, as the cord seemed to belong to my neighbour who had left. I had been using something belonging to some one else!!! I dressed, packed and put my boots on out in the stairwell, then came outside. Cloudy but quite bright at the moment could be more rain shower's later, I thought as I set off. Perhaps it was because I was still half-asleep I didn’t look too hard for the markers and took a road I thought must be the right track mentioned in my book.
The country lane was pretty and I was happily going along when the road started to bear round to my left and dive down into the valley that was almost in the opposite direction to that which I should be going!





Puzzled I started to look for markers and found none, but in my usual pig headed manner I kept on hoping I'd see one soon. Near the bottom of the valley it did turn more to the right and hopefully west. I was not happy when at the bottom I came to a fork with the main road having a bend and going up a hill heading south again and not an arrow in sight. I must have done three or more kilometres from the albergue, possibly four. I stopped and thought hard about it and said to myself as I stood in the middle of the lane.
'I've no map and if I go on and find a village I have no idea how to get from it back onto the Camino. I should go back and keep looking for that elusive arrow. I can't remember any turnings, which would mean I took the wrong turning right at the start!' That last thought made me swear but there really was no alternative but to go back! A few spots of rain seemed to rub it in that I had made foolish start to the day!


Sure enough right back at the start next to the road I had taken, I saw a well warn arrow pointing across some muddy yard and I could see the Camino footpath alongside the main road. I squelched across and started again just as yesterday, following the main road! I stopped for a coffee at 8.30 am in Castromayor having only done only 1.2 kilometres off my journeys total. Next Hospital, then Ventas de Narón less than four kilometres more I stopped for another and a tostada. The weather was still giving lots of showers but I was remembering the track more, the stepping stones alongside the flooded lane in places.














I still never saw, so missed the café that had been so helpful to us in a rainstorm in 2003 near Eireche.
Pales de Rei I don't remember much of now I'm home, but after this town I was remembering well the lane and looking for the private albergue of Casa Domingo. This is a place where we had had so much fun in 2003. I came round the bend and there it was, just as I remembered it, a beautiful stone farmhouse lovingly restored by the family, and still keeping its real old world charm.


It was early afternoon but I could not go past without saying hello but as I wandered up to the door I was thinking,
'There is no way they will remember me, a single peregino after four years what can I say?'
Just at that moment Ana came to the door and stared at me with her eyes wide and a beaming smile, and with hardly a moments hesitation said
"Michael!!!!"
I was dumbstruck, it was one of those magical camino moments for me, not only had she remembered me, but my name as well!!! Wow! This is the magic of camino
I was welcomed in like a long lost relative. It seems Ana had received the photos of her family that I had sent her and she followed my travels on my Internet web site during the winter months.

"Una con leche grande Ana por favor"

Her cousin Nieves had also spoken of me. Nieves and her daughter Lara had been travelling with us in 2003 and I had been in contact with Nieves when I called on her and her charming family in 2005.
I had to stop here now! I was taken to the spotless and comfortable dormitory where I settled in doing my washing and hanging it out to dry.

I was suddenly called and given Ana's mobile and to my surprise I was able to talk with Nieves in Vigo. I promised to call her when I arrived in Santiago, a promise I sadly broke. I do hope she forgave me. Ana also gave me Lara's number as she was in Santiago college studying.
I had a drink at the bar and met the great young lad who is a relative who normally lives in South America and was here on holiday. A few fellow peregrinos were arriving now, all seemed to be young and Spanish

























Gonzalo the proprietor said to me as I showed interest in the old albergue building
"Go see what father is doing in the old water mill."




So I strolled across and introduced myself to Dad and was taken inside the old mill that soon will be another home with bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs, but down below the mill will work like it used to when he had been young and worked there with his father! It is an incredible task for a man close to 80 years old.








"This will be our new house" he assured me and pointing out of the window to the weeds in the weir pool he continued "When it's done I will then clean out the river like it should be" he said.











There seemed to be no stopping this man's enthusiasm. It must be living on the camino fault line!

In the evening we had a choice of great food in the beautiful old dining room with its old granite stone walls and ambient atmosphere. The excellent meal was eaten and we drank a lot of good red wine, all the while my new young Spanish companions and I were having a good time chatting, during which I mentioned how we had had a wonderful Queimada here in 2003. My friends then decided to ask Ana for a Queimada too!




Ana said she would see to it and arranged the cost per head but stated "Michael doesn't pay he is my guest!"
I felt very honoured and accepted her generous offer.
Shortly after, all the window shutters were closed, using long poles on the high ones, and the lights turned out. We were in complete darkness when by solitary candle an ugly hunchback witch, with a great hooked nose, a big witches hat and a long dark cloak reaching to the ground entered, carrying a great earthenware bowl which she put on a table. She proceeded to fill the great bowl with a jug of liquid and was chanting a poem in Spanish. She now took a packet from under her cloak and tipped a white powder into the bowl and stirred it. Still chanting she picked up a large knife and cut rind from a lemon and an orange and threw it cackling into the bowl. A handful of evil looking black bug things followed.
Still chanting she now stirred the mixture with a big ladle. She lifted and warmed up a ladle full of the mixture over the candle until it exploded with a mysterious blue flame! This she put in the bowl and it too ignited into a blue bonfire. It flamed up enormously as it burned in the great bowl, and now lit the room with an eerie blue light. She was stirring and raising the burning liquid into the air, so making the flames even greater. Laughing and clucking as she stirred, she cast a complete ladle full in the air, everyone shrieked as it struck the wall high up and burned blue as it run down, and there it remained for some minutes burning on the stone, with this ardent blue flame. She cackled and made even greater flames then she leapt forward and grabbed one of the girls by the hand and dragged her back and made her stir the bowl and the lift and stir the flames. Another girl joined her frightened friend while the witch cunningly transferred her hat and cloak to the first girl, and disappeared into the darkness.









Moment's later as they stirred and laughed Gonzalo came in snuffed the candle and covered the bowl carefully and the flame went out and with it the only light. We were left in complete darkness. The lights were now turned on and we all applauded the spectacular show. The witch had disappeared by now. The witch was naturally Gonzalo and he, smiling was now ladling out the remaining liquid into earthenware cups and we drank the sweet and enjoyable witches brew!!!!!


The flash on the camera was no good really as it spoiled the atmosphere but good enough for you to get the idea
Come on everyone - a great idea for Christmas!
A quemada is basically orujo or agua diente, sugar, orange and lemon rind and coffee beans. If you want to try it the only recipe I have is :-










Quemada
1 lt orujo
6 tablespoons sugar
Rind of half a lemon
Float on coffee beans
Just set it alight, the more it burns the less alcohol in the drink

Tired, inebriated and very happy it was now time for bed, if we were to get up early in the morning and we all said goodnight and retired to the bunkhouse.

Press to play the sounds of the Witch

END DAY 36 = approx 19.8 km Sub Total = 550.2 km Total = 882.3 km

19/06/07 Sarria to Gonzar

19/06/07

Sarria to Gonzar

It was raining as I left and kept on raining. I met a Spanish chap and he was taking a photo of a road name signpost. He explained Margarita was his sister's name and he wanted to show her the notice with her name on it. We chatted and I found he came from Altea, a village not far from where I used to live in Spain.

It was a nice walk but I got wetter and wetter, 5.2 kilometres brought me to Barbadelo and I stopped for a coffee and cognac to keep the germs away.

The little bar was packed out with Peregrinos and cyclists all soaked and with the same idea. Now lanes and paths over some pretty country but still it rained. I put a towel round my neck to help soak it up and eventually after 6 kilometres I found another bar in Brea. As soon as I entered the packed bar I remembered the place. Then, it was our Spanish group that came in out of the rain and filled the place and we had eaten well. Now every nationality was here and I had a job to find a space to hang my waterproof cape and a chair to sit on.
I joined two German ladies at a tiny table and noticed one was in tears! I managed to order and got my coffee and pañada, (a savoury pastry) and gathered the lady was crying because she was so wet and tired and she wanted to stop walking, but her friend was very unsympathetic. I was told they had walked from the French border. I tried to calm her and mediate, by saying
"You could possible stop here and walk tomorrow, or perhaps we could try to get you a taxi to Portomarin. Your friend can walk, and you meet up there later."
She wiped her eyes and cheered up at the last comment. I now asked the bar lady if she could ring for a taxi to take her to Portomarin and she said she could and my new friend cheered up. The phone call was made and I managed to get it all arranged for her.
"The taxi will arrive shortly, the bar lady will call you and you are to tell the taxi driver to take you to the municipal albergue."
The rain was easing and bar was beginning to thin out. I made sure they both knew what was happening.
"The taxi will be here soon so don't worry" I assured her, then I too left.
Now it was my turn to get lost.

I was not to meet this poor lady and her friend again till I arrived in Santiago where I had a coffee with them and I said, as we sat down
"Congratulations on your arrival."
"OH! but she never walked it" cut in the friend!
"Oh never mind you can walk the last bit another year perhaps," I said looking at her poor companion who suddenly looked utterly miserable and liable to burst into tiers again
The first continued firmly,
"I'm not going to walk with her next year!"
Maybe it's a good time for her to change friends I thought!

Back to Brea.
The sun came out I was in heaven looking for four leaf clovers and missed the sharp right turn at the bottom of a hill!
Completely unaware of the mistake I continued across the bottom of the valley and up the other side, cutting diagonally up the valley wall and came to a Y junction.
Imagine I am walking the top arm towards the stem and the stem is up hill. On my left the other arm went again up hill again too, but in the opposite direction. A big car was waiting in the middle of the country road junction and its occupants were looking at their maps.
"Does that road go to Ferreiros?" said the guy, pointing to the road I had come up.
"I have no idea!" I said, "I'm on Camino, I'm just looking for yellow arrows." I said laughing.
Just then a yellow car came down the hill towards us.
"I'll ask him" I said and I stopped it and turning round faced the way he was going pointed at the fork where I had come from and asked
"Does that road go to Ferreiros?"
The young man answered,
"Si arriba" he said with a casual wave of the hand.
He put it in gear and drove round the stationary car and disappeared down the road I had just come up. I walked back to the first car and said to them what I had been told
"Si arriba" but I pointed up the hill of the right fork, after all (arriba) means up in Spanish! The couple thanked me and told me the Camino was also supposed to pass Ferreiros!
Now that may be, but I was not going to change my way till I saw a yellow arrow or was told by a local! So as they drove off I continued straight on up the hill and came to a row of cottages. Here I was soon joking with an elderly man and his wife and I gave them both a four-leaf clover that I had just found. They in turn told me I had missed the turning! I must now must go back all the way to the bottom, cross the valley again and at the bottom of that hill look for the yellow arrow and take the sharp left that I had missed.
"Goes to Ferreiros!!!!!! he said.
On the way back I passed the fork in the road where I had sent the pleasant couple in the car, in the wrong direction! I felt a bit guilty and wondered how long it would be before they found out their mistake!
A while later, after I had completed all the moves the old man had told me to make, I heard a car coming from behind and waved as they tooted and waved back as they went by. I noted they were laughing. A bit later the road came to an end and there was the same couple in their car. Laughing she wound down the window and we chuckled as I told her how I thought (arriba) was up, not straight on. Then I gave her a four-leaf clover that I had just found! She looked at it in disbelief and went on to explain that they had just started a help group for mentally disabled children and had called it (Trébol de cuatro hojas!) The Four leaf clover!
I don't know for sure but I had the feeling that they were looking for property for this venture and if so, a prettier spot would be hard to find.
'I do hope everything goes well for them' I thought as I set off again following the faded yellow arrow pointing down a narrow track.

Soon I was asking a local farmhand about his beautiful cow that he was looking at. I learnt,
"Yes lots of green grass for the cows to eat this year, all the rain you know!"
Now on past the tiny hamlet of Rozas and downhill as the sun came out again but there was lots of mud! I had to climb the stone wall and take the top then into the field to pass one particular patch of thick mud and foul smelling cow dung!

There must have been a fiesta in Vilachá by all the flags out but there was not a person to be seen as I wandered through the narrow streets of houses with puzzling slits and gun enclosures facing each and every street. I wondered why this seemingly placid little village had been so fortified. How much bloodshed had in fact gone on here? Was it in General Franco's time with the civil war that tore families apart, brother against brother or was it earlier in the Napoleonic wars, or even earlier still, for I find it hard to date these sleepy little stone village houses?

At last in bright sunshine, I crossed the bridge and climbed the huge flight of stone steps up into town.
I chuckled to myself remembering the howling gale and horizontal rain that had met us here last time and how we had been packed into the albergue with dripping coats hanging from all the bunk beds and only a cold shower! I walked to the same albergue but the door was closed and when it didn't open I presumed they were full. Wandering back down the street I felt glad really, I now found I wanted a different place this time. I tried two more but they were a bit expensive, and for some reason that feeling grew, I just wanted to go on.

On the far side of town I found the footbridge where you cross the water again and I set off at a good pace up the hill. It was hard going, hot and uninteresting and I found I now had little drinking water! Most was a tarmac road too. I tired quickly on the 8 kilometres between Portomarin and the tiny village of Gonzar. Just before arriving I found a water fountain and filled my bottle and took a big swig Yuk!!! It was the most horrible water ever tasted reminding me of the mud and cow dung mixture I'd passed earlier! I tipped it away and I couldn't get rid of the taste for ages. At last I came to Gonzar where I went in the café next to the albergue to have a coffee.
"You want a bed?" asked the old man behind the bar
"Better book in quick and come back for that coffee" he said
I took his advice and got my bunk and put my boots to dry on the draughty staircase then washed my shirt and socks and hung them on a line between my bunk bed and the next in front of the open window as the rain was returning. Then I went for my coffee.
Returning later I found Yollanda and Spanish John in the lounge and I cooked a simple stew and shared it with them. Later I was annoyed to find, my cooking pots were being used by two men, who had not even gone to the trouble to find and ask me! I had already found out I had lost a wooden spoon last night when the English couple had used it and not put it back.
My things are in a lightweight plastic box and I always put them together to show they don't belong to the albergue. Now I had no wooden spoon that I always use when using the soft aluminium cooking pot to keep it unmarked. Aluminium is bad for you I believe, now these guys were eating straight from my pot with a steel spoon!
I carry cooking gear and suffer blisters because of the weight, which is my choice, I sure don’t carry it to make sure these big hefty guys can eat and not get blisters! I went to bed in a bit of huff, forgetting to ask Yollanda what time she would leave tomorrow.

END DAY 35 = approx. 28.3 km Sub Total = 530.4 km Total = 862.5 km

18/06/07 Biduedo to Sarria

18/06/07

Biduedo to Sarria

WEEK 6

I took down my washing, two of my new shirts were dry enough to wear but the rest were still soaking wet. I took the liberty of rolling them in toilet roll and would try to dry them later today. We had breakfast at seven as arranged and we chatted with Celia the dueña, put a few words in her book and paid the bills as we left.
















Today was puffy clouds but fine and I took some good photos of the green valley to our right and in the direction we were going and could see we were to be leaving this beautiful high country. I looked forward to walking in some of the sunlight that now seemed to be mostly lighting up the lower slopes. We walked down 600 meters in altitude, passing the big old chestnut tree in Pasantes to reach Trascastela.






































Here, as we left this busy little town, we had a choice of ways. Francesca said she would take the shortest route while I wanted to take the prettiest way but the longer so we agreed to split company. I really thought we were sure to meet up again before Santiago but sadly it was not to be.
The weather looked better so there was no reason she could not cope on her own now if she wanted to. I wish now I had made sure I had her email address but I hadn't.


We waved to each other and I turned right and she left. I had to start looking for the arrows and found them soon enough as the road followed the valley and river. I knew I would miss her company but the camino is like that, you leave a friend and make another soon after normally. I'd lost touch with Yollanda, Roser and others and now found the solitude a little too quiet for my liking.

For a small road it was quite busy with traffic and I was glad when it left and followed the country paths.















































Soon I was walking shady country paths between chestnut trees, this is a beautiful walk although the weather clouded over again. In 9 kilometres my map book said I would reach Somos, but I felt sure I had done a lot more as I rounded a bend and saw the monastery in the bottom of the valley looking just beautiful.




























I took photos from here and never realised you could stay there. It was only later that I realised it had an albergue. I came down into the town and crossed the bridge, where the geese and cows came to see me making a real medieval setting so I took a few more photos.




















I was wondering where I had stopped before. My old records only said we had stopped in a hostel and I could not remember it, or this town. I strolled on passing a statue, and saw the donkey and the French ladies again near the river but I went on alone and soon took a road up a hill to the left. It was marked with the yellow arrow but the few peregrinos that I had seen before the junction, never came this way because I stopped and waited a while. It didn't matter so I continued. I now passed an old tumble down farm shed and could see the pieces of one of the really old farm carts and took more photos using the flash as the rain had started again. It was pretty country that I now wondered through












































My next recollection was meeting a Hungarian girl. The sun was out and quite warm. It was probable just before Ayan. On seeing her in the distance I speeded up my pace, I still had a job to catch up with her but managed in the end. She was a heavy built lass with very broad square shoulders, a big pack, shorts and strong tanned muscled legs and woollen socks protruding from tough looking boots. She was pacing along with big determined strides. I found she spoke good English and was in a hurry to find an albergue before they got full she said. I said I thought there would be enough room, as Sarria was a fairly large town.
I kept pace chatting for about four and a half kilometres and we came into the town, stopped at a hostel and asked the price. Then we saw a tourist office and now with a town map we entered the town. I was having a job to keep up and after crossing the river and finally up hill into the old town, I saw an albergue on the left and dived in to ask the price. I got in but it was very busy. I caught the man behind the desk's attention but I thought the price too expensive so quickly left again. I could see my new companion some way ahead but soon lost sight of her, I knew she was heading for the cheap municipal one anyway! On my right I saw another albergue sign so I went in.
It was an old stone building, cool and dark inside. A friendly young woman gave me a glass of water, took me to see the dorm, then when I agreed the price took my details. The dorm was as big as a small ballroom and had windows only at the far end and heavy curtains so that it was cool and dark. It had beds only down the sides and then they were placed lengthways, I took an end one near the door. There was a kitchen, so I could cook dinner tonight, a small patio to wash clothes, and a covered line area to dry them. A weak sun did the job and I was able to take them in as it started to rain later. I cooked my meal but had to use my own pots as there was only one pot to boil water in, nothing else much. I ate with an English couple I had met before a long way back, then went to bed, where I slept very well.

END DAY 34 = approx. 27.9 km Sub Total = 502.1 km Total = 834.2 km