17/06/07 Faba to Biduedo

17/06/07

Faba to Biduedo

On went the lights!!!b It was that damn man again everyone was to suffer a 6 am get up call because he and his entourage wanted to get away early. I pulled the sleeping bag up and over my head but it was impossible to get back to sleep as they treated their feet and the ladies massaged the old sod and generally wasted time till 7am before leaving! I was mad but managed to keep my cool till in the end I rose too and prepared to leave and Francesca and I left about quarter past. No coffee was available in the village so we set off up the hard climb in cold wet weather.














Breathtaking scenery but not the best day to see it.





Francesca was very subdued and I walked in front most of the time. We stopped several times too for her to rest. Then as we came across an old farmhouse Francesca suggested we each go on at our own pace now. I was a bit worried as I thought she was just very tired, after days of cold and wet with having little sleep and no breakfast this morning.







"Ok, then I'll go on, but I will stop in the next café if you want to meet up again OK?"
I left her leaning against the stone wall under a tree and continued up hill in pouring rain. The very next village Laguna was less than a kilometre further and here was the first cafe of the day. There was a bit of shelter from the rain to put rucksacks outside and I unloaded mine and put it with the two others there. Two young ladies were trying to run the bar but as far as I could make out it was their first day of being open, although they said it was the first week. They had to get bread from the house across the road so I could have toast and jam, a tostada! They eventually managed the coffee and cognac as Francesca came in and sat down with me chuckling how hard it was to get rid of me!
Meanwhile I sent the bar-girl off to get more bread for another tostada! Francesca seemed in much better spirits after a warm drink and tostada. We waited for the rain to ease then continued on together. The terrain was getting easier now too but still climbing. We arrived at the top of this mythical climb of O Cebreiro and had a little look around the little village but from here the weather started to turn bad again.


















In conversation with Francesca a little further on I said
"Somewhere just back there while on my first French camino, I talked my lady companion into following an unmarked path to the left, when she said her map book said a right turn. We climbed to the very top of that mountain that's towered above us on the left. We lost the path completely at the top, it had just fizzled out. From there we spotted a tiny bit of this road below us and then had to scramble downhill over stonewalls, through high-bracken, prickly holly bushes and gorse, down that ten-foot drop over there and onto this very road we were walking on." I chuckled. "So you see so far we're doing better than last time"
I pointed to the yellow arrow marked on the road in front, telling us to turn to the right, down a county lane. I turned to Francesca and continued,
"I remember last time, we followed that arrow from here. The Camino soon turns left and cuts out across the fields over there. I said pointing
Francesca frowned and replied
"I've had enough of muddy paths and mountains" and then stated firmly,
"I'm not leaving the road!"
I nodded
"True' with today's weather being so horrible we could be walking in deep mud."
I debated the thought, that the main road would probably get us there but it could be a lot further!'
Anyway we ignored the arrow and the lane and followed the main road, just as Francesca wanted, with me seriously hoping it was the right decision!
Fortunately for us it never made much difference to the kilometres as most of the way the real camino could be seen running close by, just muddier. Fighting horrible rain and wind we climbed the San Roque pass with its superb bronze statue at the top. A larger than life peregrino bracing himself against the weather.




















I noted he looked just as natural today in cold wind and rain as that day four years ago in the heat. Standing there I could almost see my companion fooling about copying the statue's pose while I sat and lanced my huge painful blisters! It might be cold and wet today but I was very glad my feet were not giving me the same problem today!
Pressing on, first along the windy ridge. Then the road went down a little and on into the village of Hospital. Here we stopped for hot soup in a nice rural bar come restaurant. It was a charming place all grey stone and beams. We hung up our waterproofs and went through to the bar and selected a table. Over coffee, while chatting to Francesca, I suggested
"We should try to get a better night's sleep tonight, in a Casa Rural. That's if you're agreeable? I'm not sure how far it is but I remember I stopped in one a bit further on."
"Ok" She agreed
"Ok I'll ask the girl behind the bar if she knows the place and get her to phone."
I rose and went up to the bar and asked her
"Sí señor, the man that just left the bar, is the proprietor! You missed him by just a few moments!" She exclaimed
She now kindly agreed to phone the Casa Rural and we booked two rooms there. All we had to do now was walk there!
Daft as it may seem I had no idea how far it was, only that the village name in my map book was Viduedo! If I had looked, I would have seen it was about 9 kms!
This turned out to be a real test of our stamina! We walked clad in our flapping waterproof capes through cold rain, wind, and mist, cloud and sun one after the other, then it would do it all over again. The weather got a little better as we were passing a sign post Francesca spotted, the village spelt with a B, Biduedo and tired we turned towards, hoping it was the same village.



"Do you know where it is" asked Francesca
I was hoping I would remember the little farm cottage that was a working farm, all I remembered it was as you left the village. As we arrived at the village, we were greeted with notices declaring a new albergue and we passed it's white painted walls wondering if we were doing the right thing. Then I saw it just as I remembered it in 2003.






The road covered with a thin layer of dusty cow dung, was sloping towards it as it curved round past the little door that led down steps into the bar. The door was ajar and we stepped over and down into the dark and cosy little bar. I had loved my stop here last time but now realised it might not have been quite what Francesca had thought a Casa Rural should be!
Entering the bar I called out, no one came so I tried again louder. Still no one came. Francesca looking around went down steps into a dark room and I followed. We found the light switch, it was the dining room laid with red table cloths. This room only has two tiny barred windows high up that seem never to open and the acid smell from animals being kept for centuries at the rear was very strong!
I knew you get used to it after a while chuckle! Francesca never said anything about it but as we came back out she was looking at the dust on the row of unlabeled bottles at the rear of the bar. Being tall she lent over the bar and made a mental note of the cracked sink!
"We had better get back to the albergue while we can still get a bed" she said turning and climbing the steps out.
I followed saying
"Wait a moment, you've got to see the rooms." I was protesting. Then saw the dueña and her family dressed in rough farm clothes and rubber boots coming up the unmade farm track that we would have to leave by tomorrow. She waved to us and called out and welcomed us with a beaming smile. I followed her in again and looked round to see if Francesca had followed, she had so I said to our host in my poor Spanish that we had phoned and asked if we could look at the rooms.
"Two?" she inquired and I had to explain we were not married
"Solo amigos del camino" I said smiling.
"No problema" and she took keys from the wall and we were taken up a flight of wooden stairs and along the passage and shown the two rooms, each had a modern bathroom. Francesca felt the beds and said
"I'll take this one" she said "if that is ok?"
So we were stopping.
"OK I'll take the end one, when do you want to eat"
About seven we decided and we arranged to have our washing done by the dueña who advised us she was sorry but she had no dryer. We would at least have clean clothes if we could get them dry by hanging them in our rooms. I had enough clean for one more day except socks. We both showered and I took down the dirty clothes and gave them to the dueña. We would be able to collect them later when we met up in the bar. Francesca joined us and our host took down two small glasses and rinsed them and then got one of the dusty bottles and poured a couple of stiff measures of orujo for us.
"On the house to keep out the cold" she smiled.
Dinner was served at seven as promised and was good with a choice of meats or fish and the bread home baked. I knew, not only because it tasted good but because I had seen her cook it in the wood oven to the side of the house last time here. Ok not the same bread!!!!
I told her I had stopped here before with a crowd of Spaniards and seen her making her bread.
"Your chorizo wrapped and cooked inside a roll of bread was fantastic I remember."
"I only bake three times a week" she said, "sadly you've arrived on the wrong day."
"Never mind I can assure you today's bread is still very good."
About half way through our meal we were joined in the restaurant by a nice young couple of peregrinos. We drank a bottle of red, chatted with them and ate a flan for postre then retired, arranging to meet at seven for breakfast.
I pinned my washing to the curtains as best I could then went to bed and slept really well.

END DAY 33 = approx. 19.0 km Sub Total = 479.1 km Total = 806.0 km well.

16/06/07 Villafranca del Bierzo to Faba

16/06/07

Villafranca del Bierzo to Faba

We got unimpressive coffee from a machine in the patio of the albergue. Here in conversation with two young ladies I advised them to take the valley road as I had such vivid memories of pretty gardens, wild flowers, the scent of wild mint and such great scenery before. Francesca and I set off and as we left I took a photo of Villafranca castle but none of the town till we found our way to the bridge over the river.
















We soon entered the valley and I had forgotten this first part, it is not so good. The motorway cuts across and with huge bridges and the lush hedgerows yielded fewer wild flowers this year. On a rather dismal morning like today the green was not translucent with sunlight, as it had been before. The high valley walls seemed overpowering and rather oppressive. Francesca too seemed a little subdued. The two girls reminded me of what I had said each time we came across them in one or other of the bars in the little villages as we climbed! Always I replied "It will get better" and eventually it does. The little villages are now sporting albergues and cafes so I was able to drink plenty of coffee as we climbed higher. Lunch was found in two café's!! We found one and they had little food so I had a coffee then as Francesca wouldn't cross with me to the other that had trucks outside I went alone and got a good bocadillo and more coffee and a little dash of cognac for my feet. I returned to Francesca and we left the two girls still sitting waiting to be served at the first café. "It gets better now" I chided. It does, the gardens are better from now on but not quite as bright with flowers this year.





























Later we found a little new bakers shop and bought coffee and cake and sat outside. It was a pity the wind was so cool but it was nice here in a little sun and the roses lovely where we sat and I text Maisie saying 'All ok so far. Climb valley now. Pos Ruitelan tonight.' I was missing her.


































































There were many nice spots as we went on but I missed seeing the one that I will always remember. Back then it was baking hot and we had stopped to rest and have our lunch in a meadow of wild mint under the shade of a grove of plane trees then later stopped for the night in a small albergue in Ruitelán. Now there was hardly a sign of wild mint and I never saw that medow. Francesca and I passed through Ruitelán and Francesca said she was still fresh enough to keep going, so we carried on to Herrerías. Now the camino started to climb very steeply by a farm track. I remembered this well from before too. That time, very tired, we had met a Spanish man who gave us poems and while translating them from English to Spanish and others from Spanish to English we had hardly noticed the hard climb. This time it was cold and wet with horrible drizzly rain and we were very tired. The mountain path is beautiful but steep, and it felt like 45 degrees as we made our legs move forward.






















To tired to chat we each entered a world of our own till at last a track sign said albergue and we took it and came to the edge of a flatter bit where the village is. We sat on a wall and rested while a farmer put his cow in a field. A peregrino came from the village carrying a bottle of wine and said we had to get food for ourselves, as there was no restaurant in the village or in the albergue. We went on to the albergue and were given bunks and Francesca said she would walk back to the village to buy food if I would cook it.






















The French ladies with the donkey arrived and they took accommodation too. Their old donkey had to stand outside but there was plenty of grass for it to eat. Francesca could only get a tin of sardine's, a bottle of wine, bread and a few other bits but it would have to do. In the meantime we tried to dry boots and socks and our rain gear. The boots fared the best because we stuffed them with newspapers. We did no washing, as it would never dry here. Francesca slept while I cooked soup and made some pimientas de Pidón and passed them around. It's like playing Russian roulette - every now and again there is a hot one. A Chilean lady got the only one this time, chuckle. Francesca joined us and we passed around the wine. The chap that I had told off for making a noise in Villafranca was there and I noted he took a big glass!

END DAY 32 = approx. 25.6 km Sub Total = 455.2 km Total = 787.3 km

15/06/07 Molinaseca to Villafranca del Bierzo

15/06/07

Molinaseca to Villafranca del Bierzo

Francesca and I set off together along the road and I never saw the old albergue that I had stopped at before, maybe it's there but if so I never recognised it. I remember there was rows of tents for overflow in the grounds alongside. Perhaps that is now built on and was the reason I never saw it. It was cold but we could see the sun now and again.

We passed the small village of Campo and I think we had a coffee here but the first highlight of today was about 8 k from our starting point when we came into Ponferrada and this town has a wonderful Templas castle.





I was shocked at the work that was going on but had to admit it still is the most incredible building. As far as I could understand they are building inside the castle itself, we tried to look inside but were turned away.



After taking some great photos we skirted the walls to the other side of town.




















We had a job to find our way and would have got really lost had not a kind workman over the opposite side of the busy intersection called out to us to cross over and take another road where we found the arrows again. Next I remember a small village on the top of a hill and here we had to go through a tunnel in the building and then old nunnery gardens. Huertas de Sacramento I believe it's called. We stopped and had a drink and rested and massaged and treated my ankle here, then went on. My ankle was giving me a lot of trouble and I had to keep stopping and massaging it and I was worried if it was going to keep this up as we still had a long way to go. The next stop would have been Columbrianos, here we turned from the track into the square. I took a photo of the superb wood carved statue of a typical peasant lady and child there then we went to find a bakers shop for bread and cakes. Francesca was waiting while I was being served.
It was in the shop window she saw it, a huge great big pink Willie complete with liberal cream decoration!!! Was it a birthday cake, errr wedding cake or to celebrate the honeymoon, I have no idea. Francesca had to grab the nearest person and make them look and we were all laughing fit to burst as we came out and even then Francesca had to grab a fellow peregrino from the street and made him go with her to take a look. I have never seen such an unusual cake to say the least. Unfortunately I never thought about taking a photo till we were some way out of town and it was too late!




My ankle still hurt like hell but would soon feel better each time when we rested. I had a 103 brandy at one café for 'medicinal purposes' and after that it let me go on till the end of the day with no pain!

Francesca said in disgust on tasting the 103,
"Yuk! That’s not Brandy!" .

I didn't care it worked for me. At one point we were walking on a tarmac road, that went to Villafranca but on my insistence we followed the arrows and they took us way out through the vineyards and over some lovely country
















and on to a tiny village, one I certainty had never seen before.









































It was enchanting and unspoilt. We were not too sure we were on the right track as the arrows had been few and far between. As you know Francesca had wanted to keep on the main road, it had been my idea to keep following arrows and we were both tired now and had no idea how much further we had to go.

























She, like me, did love the chance to see this old village though and the weather was good to us today and we enjoyed it immensely, although it must have been 35 km's we had walked by the time we strolled into Villafranca.

I had stopped in the first albergue last time so now we went a little further and found the very old one by a little church near the top of the hill, most of the town being down from here and in the bottom of the valley near the river.
Everyone was told by Francesca how we had come the long way!! It was crowded and bustling with peregrinos but we got issued bunks and had a shower, it was quite primitive and we decided to eat in town. Clean and refreshed we walked down there and hunted for a restaurant. As always we couldn't find much open at this time of day. It's a lovely old town.

We got a good look round as I got some cash from a 'hole in the wall'
and we finished up walking back into the main square. We found a table and had a couple of beers sitting outside in the sun. Laughing and chatting we ordered a nice meal and a bottle of wine right here in the plaza. We were both quite inebriated when we set out to return and we took one of my short cuts! It had been four years since I had last walked the narrow streets of this old town, they can be quite confusing! We now found ourselves at the top of a hill and could see across the wide gully (barranco) to the albergue. Not far as the crow flies! Remember we had already walked 35 km today, with legs like jelly we took the steep road down and at the bottom we decided (Francesca will say I decided) the shortest way was to climb the steep grassy bank up to the road at the top. Well it probably wasn't all that far, but it was very, very steep and with stinging nettles in places. Not only that, we both had a fit of the giggles as we climbed and slipped then climbed again. Francesca was quite sure now she would never follow an Australian again! At last we reached the top and walked the last few yards on the road back to the albergue. Having brushed our teeth we retired to our bunks in the packed little dorm with the creaky and dangerous wooden staircase, I might add, down which you have to go to get out to the toilets, God help them if ever there's a fire.
It was probably the wine - I of course had to risk them twice in the night! When returning the last time I must have fallen asleep on my back, because I now awoke wondering why my pillow was bouncing up and down like a mad thing! We were so packed in, the next bunk with a young lady peregrina in it was head to head with mine and I must have been snoring like a train and this was her way to make me turn over, chuckle! Well I had wanted to do that so many times to others, how could I complain!

END DAY 31 = approx. 30.5 km Sub Total = 429.6 km Total = 761.7 km

14/06/07 Fuencebadón to Molinaseca

14/06/07

Fuencebadón to Molinaseca

Yes, first things first we walked back downhill to get that breakfast and we were not disappointed. But it was pouring with rain as we left to climb back up and onto the camino. The drizzling rain and cold got worse as we climbed higher, but the view was superb. It then brightened up a bit and we stopped and sat on the bank to rest a while and to absorb the view.











The heather and wild flowers were so pretty, although the path had been widened in many places scarring the edges. It would take many years for nature to repair them but it would succeed I am sure. I preferred to remember it as I saw it just four years ago, but at least this time my camera was working and it was kept in use for most of today. I had picked up a small smooth pebble some days ago and today I would leave it at the iron cross that we knew was at the top of this mountain.
It is said that this might have been the site of an altar dedicated to the Roman God, Mercury (God of caminos), hence the iron cross! A hermit is said to have spent his whole life giving protection and shelter to travellers here.



It was cold and wet today - what must it be like in the winter, I thought as we arrived. I left my pebble at the base of the pole as I had done with a large white piece of alabaster last time, and hopefully leaving my problems with it as well as I have been told that is what is supposed to happen! I stood in thought for a moment and requested protection for the rest my trip too. This has been a hard trip at times. I now left Francesca to do the same, and saw she was very moved by the experience for there were tears in her eyes when she came over to the porch where we were standing for shelter at the small ermita afterwards, and stood apart from us. I had discovered Roser here and she seemed to know nothing of the placing of stones but on hearing of it from me picked up a stone and she too left the pile just that little bit higher. I noticed how everyone stepped carefully over the stones and wood left in front of the ermita in the shape of a big heart!

The wet mist and cold continued as Francesca and I set off again across this beautiful high country, now following the telegraph wires.
We descended a little to the road and in two kilometres we found the crude shelter of Tomas in the deserted village of Manjarín, he is today's modern hermit! He gives shelter and coffee for a donation and the place was packed as we went in to see and risk a cup of his strong black brew. Last time my Spanish companion would not look in, as she had insisted it was filthy, this time to my surprise my new companion Francesca never even mentioned it.























Tomas's coffee was indeed very black but I survived it and it warmed me well. What a tough existence for him sat up here all the time, sun, rain, and snow with no amenities, a real Knight Templa.

Francesca bought a metal hat badge from Tomas depicting the iron cross on it and as we set off again she kindly gave it to me!
"So I can now honestly say I have been given the iron cross!" I joked
She also confided in me that she had visited a clairvoyant before she came on Camino and had been told by her,
"I can see a man with flowers round his hat standing behind you."
Francesca went on to say
"As you are always with a wildflower stuck in your hat and spend so much time looking at them, that would have been you I suppose!"
I liked Francesca very much, we seemed to have a common bond of friendship but nothing more, I just liked her company.

The road went downhill a bit but soon we could see that we would shortly climb to reach the highest point of the Camino at 1520 meters. The track skirts a telecommunication base of the defence ministry.
"It's all down hill from here" I joked, with the cold wind flapping and the damp still penetrating our clothes. The rain eased in a while and it was nice for a time and we sat on some rocks in a valley with an incredible view and ate bananas that somehow had survived today's journey. Here came a glorious rainbow I remember that gave even more splendour to the view.
We had cake and another hot coffee and cognac in a crowded bar in the tiny village of El Acbo.












Leaving here, next came Riego de Ambrós. This is an even smaller hamlet and as you leave the village the path descends into a steep and slippery gully (baranco). The narrow path was muddy with smooth rocky patches and water running over them and on down into the stream at the bottom of the gully. That’s right at the bottom is, naturally, a stream, but no bridge! We have to cross it. The water is filthy from the cattle and maybe human effluence that comes from the village above, and is today increased by rain run off. The plants seem to like this of course and it's all very overgrown with tall weeds, shrubs and trees.
It was raining and water was dripping from every branch we touched as we got near the stream. Owing to the rain the stream was running deep, I was in front leading the way and it was hard to find a crossing place. I did see a stone just under the surface to put one foot on and jumped the rest and landed on the opposite muddy bank. My boots were damp before, now they were muddy too as I took a pace or two up the path on the other side. Francesca didn't like the look of my choice of crossing place and worked her way down stream a bit and decided to cross there. There were a few more trees to hold onto to start with but she didn't quite get her foot on the muddy bank but instead found a fallen branch just under the surface of the stream. Realising she's getting a wet foot she quickly attempted to get the other foot onto the opposite bank, and catch her balance but the first foot slipped off into the water and she went forward down in the horrible smelly mud!
I'd tried to grab her but with my big pack on and my hands holding my sticks that had helped me balance, I had been unable to do much, other than to offer her a helping hand to pull her up afterwards. Luckily her big long grey waterproof cape had protected her main clothes. Francesca, grimacing, splashed water up onto the cape to wash the worst off, while I never helped much by chuckling. I think she forgave me!
In 2003 I had loved this part of my journey and have many fond memories. I was looking forward to see again the ancient giant chestnut tree (castaña) that five of us had held hands around and hugged. It is the biggest in a ring of five or more massive trees, but when we arrived today the rain was falling, the grass was all wet where we had sat and rested. The trees themselves looked sorry and sad this year, maybe fire had ravaged them, I don't know. The hedge that I had passed through on my way to find scrumptious cherries for my companions while they still slept out the heat of the day, was now dilapidated and there were no cherries! Sometimes you should never go back to a place, I patted the tree and hurried after my companion. Life moves on.

As we came lower the air warmed up and the sun came out, and there was but little breeze. We could see Molinaseca at the bottom of the valley and the winding road leading to it. We seemed to come down a slightly different track this time but we came onto the tarmac road and followed it to the village. The last time I was here lots of children had been swimming by the old Roman bridge that we had to cross but not this time it was far to cold today I think. The little town had altered quite a bit. Many more of the houses are restored now. We asked about lodging in a couple of Casa Rurales but they were a bit expensive for me so we walked on and at the far side of town we found a new albergue open. This was great with new beds with a meter and a half between them!!!!!!! and spotlessly clean. It had only been open about a week. Unfortunately the restaurant was not finished yet.
Roser arrived here too and took a bunk near mine. The albergue wanted 3 Euro each to wash and dry our clothes, so to save cost we all dumped our dirty clothes in one lot and I boldly took them to the basement to get them washed in the washing machine. The lady of the house would not let me do it she insisted only she could fill the machines! She told me to put the washing on the top of the washer. She said she would do it and I could collect it later. Well it sat there for ages and when at last I saw the washer empty I dumped our stuff in before anyone else did and went up and told the lady it was ready for powder and to be switched on. Well she wasn't very happy but it got washed after a while but now sat for ages more in the machine waiting to be put in the dryer. I worried her several times and in the end she came down to do it. Her eyes popped open wide when a black pair of frilly panties and a bra fell on to the floor!
"Are those all yours!" she exclaimed
"Yes" I said smilingly and waltzed my way up the stairs.
Now I walked into town looking for the others and to have a look at this nice little town I found a bar and had a drink but there seemed no one about. I wandered around again and came across Francesca in another bar and we had a beer together but she said she had eaten, tapas and was not hungry. I went off again back to the entrance of the town to find an open restaurant. I went into the first one you come to, as you arrive at the town, it looked very warm and cosy now.
The waiter was showing me to a table when a voice called out,
"Michael" and I turn to see Roser, Barbara and an Italian girl I vaguely knew too, but sadly I never managed to remember her name.
"Come join us" cried out Roser as another chair was pulled up, "do you mind?" she added as I came over and sat down.
"When I'm asked to join a table with not one, but three very attractive young ladies I am always happy to oblige" I chuckled "I've never been known to refuse such a generous offer!"
The meal was great for the price, I started with fish soup, then the main course, a ham and cheese dish with chips and finished with a home made flan. A bottle of good red wine and we all liked the Orujo! We had great fun and giggled away till quite late. We all walked back to the albergue then Roser and I said goodnight to the Italian girl and Barbara. They, still laughing went on up the road a bit further to the municipal albergue, where they were stopping I think, whilst we tried to be quiet as we collected our washing from the downstairs basement.

END DAY 30 = approx. 19.4 km Sub Total = 398.9 km Total = 731.2 km