… or downhill is much more difficult than uphill!
Last night saw a very sociable community meal in the courtyard of our albergue. Good wine, excellent food and better company!
I was up early as normal, sneaking out through the door as quietly as possible and being greeted by the most amazing moon!
It was another chilly morning, I am so glad that I packed gloves! Today was all about hills, with 750m of elevation gained and a max altitude of 1520m. None of the uphills were too hard, enough that I knew I was making a bit of an effort, but not enough to slow me down. And the views! I must have taken eleventy billion photos - but none of them do justice to the landscape that was in front of
I stopped for breakfast at the first place I saw in Rabanal. I am not making the mistake of walking past somewhere that does breakfast ever again. I was 15km in and caffeine was the first order of business! The cafe was busy, I ended up sitting at a table with a man from the USA who was insisting on showing me the upcoming elevation. I’d rather not know. Luckily a BBC News thing flashed up on my ‘phone about another assassination attempt on Trump - so I diverted him with that until I was ready to leave. Breakfast was good though! Rabanal was pretty and, as I left I was caught up with lots of people who were just setting out for the day, so chatted for a while with them before drifting me.
The next major ‘Camino highlight’ was Cruz de Ferro. The custom is that one brings a stone from home and leaves it here as a symbol - putting down a burden. I was happy to go along with the custom. I had very little expectation of feeling any real emotion or meaning but I can’t deny that a tear or two may have been shed as I placed a tiny (25g max) stone that I had picked up on one of Tiree’s beautiful beaches at the cross. It is not up to me to carry guilt for things that are not my fault. I will try to put that guilt aside and realise that what I am is enough.
From this point on the route was mainly down hill. But that does not mean it was easy! Loose rocks and and uneven path meant maximum concentration was needed - especially as this was 16 miles into a 20 mile walk so my legs, whilst still younger than my face, were a little tired! I was grateful for my sticks - they saved me a number of times when my eyes were on the vistas rather than my feet! Those last few miles were by far my slowest of the day. I am painfully aware that, at my age, it won’t be a green stick fracture and would probably involve an air ambulance to get me off the trail!
El Acebo is a quaint little town. As I arrived I was delighted to see a bar with the name ‘Albergue La Casa Del Peregrino’ outside - as this was the name of the albergue I had booked. I walked in, made myself known to the man behind the bar and said that I wanted to check in. He said ‘one moment’ (several times) and about twenty minutes later informed me that there was another place with the same name 400m down the road which is where I was actually booked in. It was in reality 550m. I know because I didn’t want a gap in my Strava so logged it. I later found out that the same place (possibly the same man) had ripped off my friend Zora when she had bought a beer there while waiting for Louise - giving change for a 5euro note rather than the 10 euro one that had been handed over.
The 550m walk was well worth it. Albergue La Casa Del Peregrino is beautiful! It has a pool, a bar, a restaurant and private rooms as well as the albergue (dorm) rooms. I did my chores (shower/laundry) and was sitting on the balcony reapplying KT tape when I saw Zora. She was here to see if there were any rooms available for here and Louise. So the disreputable gang of three is reunited again this evening.
Beers have been drunk (me and Zora), swimming has been done (Louise - bloody freezing apparently) and a pilgrim meal will be eaten tonight.
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