Triacastela to Sarria

20 kilometers

12.5 miles

My last day of walking alone was a shorter one, and I was ready for it.

It was raining when I fell asleep the night before and it was supposed to rain most of the day, so there was not point in trying to beat it.

I was excited already for my rest day in Sarria, where I was planning to wash all my clothes and have a day without walking. So no matter what I had to walk through on this final day – be it rain, sore feet or aching body – I had relief on the other side.

Really that was true every day, but it felt especially true on this day.

There was just lightest drizzle falling as I stepped out into the cloudy morning.

Everything was wet. I walked by tables and chairs in the village that were dripping from being out in the rain.

At the edge of Triacastela, you have two choices for how to go to Sarria. One I’d shorter but has more up and down. The other one is flatter but is more than six kilometers longer.

The longer route takes you through Samos where there is an old Benedictine monastery that is supposed to be beautiful to visit.

But it was the shorter route for me. I felt that I would rather climb than walk farther. Maybe next time I’ll visit the monastery.

The route I chose turned quickly into the woods and followed, as promised, a road up into the hills.

The scenes were similar to the day before. Green pastures, farmland, cows, and moss-covered rock walls.

I had gotten so hot the day before that I had decided to hike in shorts this day even with rain, and I was grateful.

Even in my shorts and tank top I was fogging up my glasses with the heat coming off my face.

The rain came and went, but was never a downpour. Sometimes I think it was just dripping from the trees and not even raining.

After the climb the path leveled off and rolled in and out of forests.

It was pleasant walking for most of the day, with only a few steep or muddy bit here and there.

It was a quiet day. I saw several other pilgrims but none I recognized, probably both because I had started later and that there were two choices for routes.

But I didn’t mind. I carried on enjoying the solitude, knowing it was my final day on my own.

I prayed and listened to my book and kept moving towards Sarria, which soon came into view in the far distance.

In one small village, I came upon a courtyard where lots of young pilgrims were hanging about. It was a beautiful and sort of sacred place with so much going on that I couldn’t quite take it all in.

I almost passed it on by but decided to pop in and have a snack. At the entrance there was a table laden with food and drinks. There were apples and oranges. Tomatoes and carrots. Baskets of cookies. Bananas. A collection of empty jam jars and four or five containers of juice.

On the table was a basket for donations.

So I chose a snack and poured some juice in a jam jar and began to explore the space a little more.

It had a meditation corner. A vegetable garden. Several collections of tables and chairs. A corner of art supplies with an invitation to make a work of art to leave. A tree full of Camino scallop shells.

Everywhere there were hand-painted signs encouraging you to rest or to just be.

Beyond the courtyard someone had even made a labyrinth out of stones.

I didn’t stay for as long as I might have. And I’m not sure why. Maybe it was my focus on getting to Sarria.

And I didn’t photograph the courtyard. Somehow it felt like it would be disrespectful. I sat down in one of the chairs to drink my juice and just spent a few minutes taking it all in.

It was a lot to behold.

I wondered who had made it all. It wasn’t clear who was ‘in charge.’ But I am thankful to him or her. I think happening onto places like these is part of the magic of the Camino.

When I returned to the trail, I looked back and could still glimpse the labyrinth through the trees, so I snapped a quick photo of it before moving on.

Then the sky cleared a bit and the rain faded away for the next couple of hours.

The rain had made everything bright green.

I passed only a few more villages before getting to the outskirts of Sarria.

The long approach ran along the side of the road.

I have been to Sarria before in 2015 for my very first Camino, so I have such sweet memories of being there.

As I climbed the familiar steps into town, it seemed like it was just last year instead of six years ago.

There is a new sign for the town that wasn’t there before, which is a fun addition. I’ll be taking 8 ladies there soon to stand around it and be photographed.

It started to rain again and indeed rained hard the rest of the day, so I sat down in a cafe to have a drink and a moment of gratitude for this week of walking on my own.

It’s the first time I’ve ever walked a trail alone but I don’t think it will be the last. And as I’ve said many times, you’re never truly alone on the Camino.

Or indeed, anywhere.

PS.

I am planning to blog the third leg of this journey but will probably do it after I get home so I can give my full attention to the party that is soon to arrive in Sarria. (You might be able to hear us from wherever you are!) So stay tuned!

PPS.

If you’ve enjoyed reading about the Camino and following along, might I humbly ask that you consider donating to the Move for Peace with Preemptive Love in honor of the miles walked this far. Thank you!!!

The post Camino de Santiago Day 13: Triacastela to Sarria appeared first on Alison Chino.

Las Herrerías to Triacastela

28 kilometers

17.5 miles

I think I’ve mentioned before that I do not enjoy walking in the dark.

Lots of folks on the Camino get up early and walk in the dark. But after a morning of doing it with Anna, I was so sure I wouldn’t do it again that I sent my headlamp home with her.

It just seems like a recipe for disaster. Or at least for getting lost.

Also I had met a girl whose leg was all bandaged up and it was because she fell while walking in the dark.

So there you go.

Walking in the dark = bad idea.

But when I went to bed in Las Herrerías, the weather report was calling for rain all day. But it looked like light rain in the morning and heavy thunderstorms in the afternoon.

I was heading straight up into the mountains in the morning and really wanted to be over the highest bit of the walk before thunderstorms blew in.

And also I was tackling my last long day so the longer I waited to get started, the longer I would be out in the afternoon rain.

I went to sleep thinking I would leave right at 8. The sun is coming up at 8am in Spain right now, but of course if it is cloudy, it isn’t really light out until 8:30.

I set everything out so I could get ready quickly in the morning and went right to sleep.

I’ve been sleeping SO hard, which is kind of unusual for me, but I am just dead tired at the end of the day. Usually by 9:30 I can’t hold my eyes open another minute. I had asked for herbal tea after dinner and my waiter dug through an entire box of teas to find me something called “dulces sueños” (sweet sleep). It did the trick.

After my sweet sleep, I woke up at 6am.

Nope! Too early!

I’m not walking in the pitch dark!

But I was wide awake.

So I started getting ready. I took my time. Braided my hair. Ate my yogurt and a banana. Drank my electrolytes.

I was all ready to go.

It was 7am.

Still really dark out.

And more importantly, not raining.

Okay. I’ll use my phone flashlight and I’ll just go really slow.

Outside the albergue, there were a few lamps on, so the street was lit for a little while.

Ahead of me I saw three figures walking, so I caught up to them and then slowed behind them.

As we left the street lamps and turned onto a very dark forest track, one of them turned on a flashlight.

They were a group of three older Spanish gentlemen so I kept my pace slow to stay behind them. This gave me plenty of time to take super careful steps.

I stayed about 5 feet behind them and they walked in a row together. One of them began singing as they walked.

I thought how perfectly timed it was for me to leave when I did. I would not have wanted to climb in the dark in this forest all alone.

One of the men even began to turn around and point out puddles to me so that I wouldn’t step in them.

It has rained late in the afternoon the day before and a lot of the night, so it was muddy on the trail.

We continued this way for maybe half an hour. I began to be able to make out my steps just a tiny bit more in the faint light that was gathering.

At some point I turned around and saw that below me in the forest there were several twinkling lights.

Other early risers were coming up behind me.

Christ before me.

Christ behind me.

Christ all around me.

Christ within me.

When a group of three hikers caught up to us, the frontrunner said hello and introduced himself and his friends.

I couldn’t see his face but I could tell from his accent that he was Scottish so we had a quick chat about a mutual love of walking in Scotland before he and his friends began to push on ahead.

I followed them past my three guides and stayed behind them until we emerged from the forest onto a ridge where I could really begin to see.

Then they lost me. But not before the Scottish man told me he thought the Camino was just magical. It’s the only word I have left, he said, I’ve used them all
up trying to describe it!

I told him I had to agree.

Now I could see that we’d been coming up in a fog that was dancing through the hills.

I walked the path alone for a while as it moved up the valley and then engulfed me again.

Soon I could only see a little ways in front of me, but I marveled at how the sun coming up makes light on the path even when we can’t see the sun.

Somehow no matter how cloudy it is, the light gets through.

It seemed like a very long time but I finally reached the high village of O’Cebreiro.

It’s the first place you come to after you cross into the region of Galicia.

This is the final region of the Camino. Santiago is the capitol of the region.

These mountains are the first to catch the weather from the Atlantic, so they are green from the rain.

It’s all pastures and farmland. You can smell the change in climate almost as soon as you crest the hill that brings you into Galicia.

It reminded me of being in Ireland and there are actually Celtic ties in Galicia. The bagpipes are played here, and the local dialect is similar to Irish.

The sun began to peek through on a distant valley as I continued on.

And there were even a few patches of blue here and there.

The Way continued to wind down and up, then down again and back up again, all morning.

I kept thinking the climbs were finished but there was a whole series of ups and downs instead of just the one big one.

After what I thought was the last big climb I stopped at a cafe and had some late breakfast. Or early lunch.

I had Spanish tortilla, a baked dish of eggs, cheese and potatoes. And some freshly squeezed orange juice.

I ate quickly since I was still trying to hurry because of weather, but it felt amazing to sit down. I kind of wanted to take off my boots but I didn’t dare. I had come 10 miles and had over 7 left to go.

And all downhill now.

The walk down was absolutely gorgeous.

For a while, the sun even came out.

It would be blue one minute and cloudy the next.

But it was beautiful.

Even though I was ready to fall down from how tired I was, I was amazed at the loveliness of everything around me.

I could see my destination for about the last four miles, but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

I just kept taking step after step after step. I knew eventually I would get there.

One step at a time.

It had turned all cloudy again as I made my way into Triacastela.

And it began to sprinkle as I turned on the street to my albergue.

Once I was in my cozy room, it really began to rain. The sky got very dark and ominous.

I took a shower and crawled into bed, unsure if I would wake up again before morning.

Another day of walking alone but not alone. And another day of getting a bit further than I thought my legs would take me.

The next day would carry me to Sarria, where the second leg of my journey would end and the third one begin.

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Villafranca del Bierzo to Las Herrerías

22.5 kilometers

14 miles

There were three ways out of Villafranca del Bierzo.

I had studied all three before going to bed and had chosen the one I would take.

I got an earlier start and the morning air was fresh and cool.

I wouldn’t have said I felt like a new woman but I definitely felt better than the day before.

So I confidently took the hard right out of town on the La Pradela trail, which quickly started climbing above Villafranca del Bierzo.

The other two choices were a path that ran right along the road and an even higher mountain climb that ran on the other side of the road.

I could see that the range to the south of me was higher so I felt good about my choice.

At least for a little while.

The path kept climbing and similar to the road I had taken the previous day through the vineyards, it seemed less well-marked and a bit deserted.

I kept turning around to see Villafranca del Bierzo growing smaller and smaller. And to look to see if anyone else had joined me on this route.

It took me a while but I settled into being alone and began to recite the prayer or mantra I wrote down for this trip before I left home:

Christ before me.

Christ behind me.

Christ all around me.

Christ within me.

It became a walking meditation.

A phrase with each step.

And a reminder that I never walk alone.

When the ridge flattened out, the walking got a bit easier, though my blistered feet at this point are screaming are me most of the day. I just try to ignore them.

They say that if you are paying attention, the Camino will give you a gift every day.

After I walked the whole morning alone, and without passing any little cafes, I started to feel hungry and tired.

I entered a forest and saw a sign for a cafe in a few more kilometers.

I stopped to take a few photos in the forest of chestnut tress and a little shrine.

And also to catch my breath.

And then I heard footsteps coming behind me. Another pilgrim did take this route!

I’m so glad to see you! I haven’t seen anyone all morning.

He said the same and we quickly fell into introductions and conversation. And just as we did, we came upon the little cafe that we’d seen the sign for in the forest.

Since this path is so deserted there was a sign indicating to ring the bell and they would open up. So we rang the bell and a kind lady came down from her house and opened up the cafe. She served us drinks and snacks. I ordered her homemade cake and she cut me the biggest slice you’ve ever seen.

We took our drinks out to the terrace and enjoyed a quick break before carrying on together.

We soon descended from our mountain trek and rejoined the central path that ran along the road. We walked and talked all the way until we were 5 km from Las Herrerías when we stopped again for a bit of lunch.

Afterwards the path hugged the road in a single track, so he pushed on ahead and we said farewell.

The last 5km went by fairly easily though I was very happy to see the little village come into view at the end of the day.

I stopped in at a church on my way into town. I wasn’t sure it would be open when I saw its crumbling state but the inside was welcoming and cozy.

I paused and said a quick prayer of gratitude for my Camino gift of the day.

Someone to share the road with at just the right time.

And then it was onto my little home for the night to collect my keys and tend to my poor little feet.

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Ponferrada to Villafranca del Bierzo

25.5 kilometers

16 miles

Sometimes the problem with doing a really long day isn’t just how you feel at the end pushing yourself that hard.

It’s how you feel the next day.

I struggled to drag myself out of bed, and I reasoned that I didn’t need to get an early start since I wasn’t going as far.

So I took my time braiding my hair and organizing my things and looking at the map a few extra times.

When I finally laced up my boots it was almost 9am.

Yikes.

The sun was already bright out! I need to get moving, I thought.

But that was exactly the problem. All my ‘get up and go’ was gone.

I hadn’t even left Ponferrada and I was moving like it was the end of the day.

I walked slowly through the town. Past the castle.

And up to the town square that was so busy the night before.

Now it was just me and the street sweeper.

The Way leaves Ponferrada through a city park that runs along the river. There were a few folks out jogging, but it was mostly quiet.

Then the path went along several small roads. It stayed pretty flat, mercifully.

But you could see in the distance that we were headed for the hills again soon.

Even on the flat road, I felt like I was in slow motion. I stopped about 8 km out at a coffee shop and rested for a while.

Then the track went over a highway and turned into dirt road. It was kinder terrain than the road with cars going by.

And every once in a while there was some relief from the sun in the shade of a few trees. I gave thanks for whoever planted these trees along the way.

But again I was feeling every stone under my boot and every step in my weary body. Had I been walking with someone I’m sure I would have whined to them. But as there was no one to whine to, I whined in my head.

When I got to Cacabelos, it was such a lovely village that I wanted to stop. But I told myself I’d better not because I was having such a slow day already.

I got almost through the town when a sign advertising smoothies drew me in.

So I stopped for a smoothie and to use the bathroom and as I sat, I was wishing I could just sleep there.

They had rooms available but I was already booked in a place 8 more kilometers down the road.

So onward we go.

The smoothie gave me a little boost for a while.

I soon saw a marker that indicated that I was under 200km left to Santiago which was exciting.

Of course since I am not doing all 800, it’s different but still from now I am counting down to Santiago.

Towards the end of the day, there was a choice to walk along the road or to take the Camino up into a vineyard.

I vaguely remembered reading that the vineyard added a bit but that it was much more pleasant than walking on the side of the road.

So I took the route through the vineyard, maybe not taking into account how much I was already dragging that day.

I was thankful to be off the main road but also it was curiously quiet and not as well marked.

Every once in a while there was a marking that clearly a fellow pilgrim had left.

And also the occasional shade tree.

The day was just gorgeous so I tried to focus on the beauty instead of on how hot and tired I was.

I popped in my headphones and listened to music to push me through the last hour or so.

It was after 3 already so I was as delirious as I had been the day before at this same time, even though I hadn’t walked nearly as far.

Sometimes it’s the cumulative effect that gets you.

But still…the vineyards! The blue sky!

The mountains in the distance!

Then finally, after forever without detailed markings I saw that I had 3.3 km left.

I restrained myself from tears and switched to a favorite Richard Rohr audiobook to carry me the rest of the way in.

On the outskirts of Villafranca del Bierzo is a church with a large door called the Puerta del Pardon, which means the door of forgiveness.

If pilgrims were struggling to get to Santiago, like maybe they were sick or their bodies were broken down from the journey, they could come to this door and it ‘counted’ for the pardon or absolution they were seeking by walking to Santiago.

I saw many people touching the door as they came into town or stopping to say a prayer there at the door of forgiveness.

Maybe because so many pilgrims arrived in this town needing medical attention, there is a large pilgrim hospital attached to another large church, San Nicolas.

Now the old hospital is an albergue and hotel.

I had booked one of the rooms and I was wide-eyed as my host walked me up the stairs and down the wide hallways.

My room looked out over the town and to the hill above that I would walk tomorrow.

And I had a bathtub.

I could have hugged the host.

Except I was drenched in sweat and grime so that would have been gross.

I had a long soak.

Then I washed out my clothes and hung them up to dry.

Then a wee nap.

I went out to explore the town a bit. I found the square where they were setting up a stage for live music.

I ordered beer and sparkling water and a plate full of roasted vegetables.

The tables began to fill up as the music started so I gave away all the other chairs at my table. I spoke a little with a Spanish pilgrim who is retired but now teaches Spanish to immigrants as a volunteer. I learned a few new words and phrases.

When I left to go back to my room and head to bed, the party was going strong in the square, but I didn’t hear it for long.

I fell asleep hard and fast, hoping to feel back to my normal walking self by the next day.

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Rabanal del Camino to Ponferrada

32 kilometers

20 miles

Every once in a while on a hike, you schedule a day that you know is going to test you.

You know when you schedule that higher mileage that it will push you to your limits.

But you kind of want to see if you can do it.

Honestly I don’t often have big push days as I prefer to not arrive at the end of a day feeling like I am going to die.

But at some point I realized that I needed to shorten day 8 after the all night bus and as a result, I just left it so that the miles cut from Day 8 would have to be made up on Day 9.

I was kind of sad to leave Rabanal del Camino actually. It might be one of my favorite Camino stops.

But around 7:45 I finally started my uphill march to the next town, Foncebadon, where a straw snail reminded me to take my time.

And then on to the highest point on the whole Camino.

El Cruz de Ferro

Or

The Iron Cross

It’s traditional to bring a stone from home and leave it at the foot of the cross.

I brought a piece of Rock Island, literally since the island our town is named for is all rock. It’s been quarried and used all over town for different buildings and landscaping, so it was easy to snag a small piece and tuck into my pack. I picked it up on one of the many walks I took at home to get ready for the Camino.

I left my rock and started the steep descent into the valley below.

The path descended throughout the rest of the day, varying in steepness.

Some of the time I just walked along mindlessly and then sometimes I was carefully picking out every step.

Since I had so many miles to cover, I made short stops and just ate snacks I had with me.

I also tried not to check my mileage too often so I wouldn’t get overwhelmed.

Just keep moving. Just keep moving.

Past the heather and the gorse bushes.

Past chestnut trees.

And more blackberries.

Through more villages that looked like good places to stop.

Onward I marched.

I reasoned that if I didn’t reach Molinaseca before 3pm that I would take a bus or taxi the rest of the way.

Then I made it by 2pm.

Ugh, why am I not staying here?

I said to myself as I crossed the river and saw the beautiful scene.

Places to sit by the river with drinks and people eating lunch.

But I still had 5 miles to go.

I grabbed a sandwich and a drink from a shop, sat quickly on a bench to finish it and then kept going.

From Molinaseca to Ponferrada was almost all road walking, some of it along the main road connecting them.

It was a bit of a slog.

I finally dug out my headphones and played music for the last couple hours.

I kind of danced dileriously into Ponferrada. I was looking for any kind of steps to take that were different from the ones I had been repeating for so many hours. Changing my step just a little brought great relief.

After what seemed like forever, I finally reached my albergue at about 4:30pm, totally spent.

There was already one other gal in the room and she too had walked the same long distance as me.

She was from Budapest and we decided we that we would both shower and then go try to find an early dinner together.

Our room had 8 bunks but we were only joined by one other person, a biker from Barcelona. He had covered 60 kilometers.

I had seen lots of bikers while I was hiking and I did not envy them climbing up and down those hills on bikes.

On our way back from a dinner of eggs, shrimp and potatoes, the sun was setting on the church tower across from the castle this town is famous for.

Lots of folks were out in the town square and taking photos of the castle. It was Saturday night so Ponferrada was hopping.

But we were shutting it down. Time to rub our sore feet with whatever creams we had and to try to sleep enough for tomorrow.

My new friend and I compared blister treatments before turning out the lights and saying goodnight.

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Astorga to Rabanal del Camino

19.5 kilometers

12 miles

When I got off the bus in Astorga, it was still dark.

I walked through the town like a zombie in the cold morning air.

I had gained elevation via the bus ride and the temps were significantly cooler.

It was strange to be walking without Anna. She was already on her plane by the time I was walking.

I had decided that I wanted to truly embrace walking by myself, but I needed a little time to feel my feelings about being alone.

Especially after such a great week with Anna.

So I was walking and thinking about the Camino and how I had hoped to be brave enough to walk it alone someday when a man passed me and then slowed down to introduce himself.

Hi I am Marco, from Rome. Where do you come from?

And so began the journey of meeting a whole new set of pilgrims on this section of the way.

We walked together for just a few minutes. He told me he had been to Kalamazoo one winter for a work conference and he had found it insanely cold.

Then pretty soon he wished me a Buen Camino and picked up his pace again.

It was a timely reminder that on the Camino, you are not ever really alone.

And actually it’s sort of the perfect way to be alone. If you want to, you can walk by yourself all day, and feel perfectly safe doing so, but then you can join other pilgrims for dinner or coffee stops.

And there’s always someone who would join you for a celebration drink at the end of a long day.

I carried on through fields and small villages. I stopped for coffee twice because I was so tired. I had planned originally to go the usual 25 or so km for the day but in the end I shortened it after the sleep deprivation of the bus ride. So I only had to get through 12 miles and I had all day to do it.

Because the Camino runs west along northern Spain, you always have the sun at your back in the morning.

You have to look over your shoulder to catch the sun rising behind you.

It was a beautiful day. It stayed fairly cool but the sky was blue and the towns I passed were adorable.

I got to my stop at Rabanal del Camino before 2, so I took a long nap and then went to explore the village.

It was super small but has a reputation for being one of the most welcoming towns on the whole Camino.

Everyone I met lived up to the town’s reputation. I visited a small smoothie shop where the owner had built a large garden for pilgrims to sit in at the end of the day.

The host at my albergue was incredibly attentive. He also served dinner and helped me find something I wanted to eat.

At 7pm in the town on most nights, a group of monks from the local monastery sing the Vespers service in a little church.

I followed the ringing bells to go and hear them.

I definitely missed Anna’s boots alongside mine, but I went to bed feeling ok about walking on my own.

I thought maybe I would have trouble sleeping after my long nap.

Nope. I went right to sleep after dinner finished up so I’d be ready to take on another day.

I found J much prefer a bed to a bus for sleeping.

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