Camino Inglés day 5: Sigueiro to Santiago de Compostela

 On the Camino Inglés I have not met anyone from England (or Wales, Scotland or Northern Ireland).  Most of the pilgrims I have met have been Spanish and my ability to communicate in Spanish is still limited to ordering beer, asking where the loos are and asking for directions.  Most of the time I can’t understand the reply but I think I am now able to follow what is being said I little more easily.  But free flowing conversation has been a little lacking over the last few days.  It was a joy therefore to discover that Courtney was in the same dorm as me. 

We went out for a beer, which quickly became three beers, or in my case two beers and a gin and tonic, all served with delicious tapas and a salad each.  It was fascinating to learn about her work in Algiers and her plans to move to Poland. A very pleasant evening! And we were tucked up in bed by 8.30pm.  

It seems that I maligned our Spanish dorm mates yesterday.  They left for dinner just before 9pm, promising us that they would be as quiet as possible on their return.  They were as good as their word!  I hope we didn’t walk them this morning.

I didn’t sleep well.  I was awake from about 4am.  I considered just getting up and going but, with only 16km to go, if I left then it would still be dark when I arrived.  And nowhere would be open for coffee.  I eventually got up and left just before

It was a mainly flat, mostly road walk.  I saw my best sunrise of the whole trip but I was mostly focused on getting to the end.  By the time I found an open cafe/bar I was only 5km from the cathedral so I decided not to stop.  I arrived before 9am and before the Pilgrims’ Office opened. The Plaza do Obradoiro was almost completely deserted and after the obligatory selfie in front of the cathedral I went to wait for my compostela and mileage certificates. 

So, that’s another Camino in the bag. The Camino Inglés is an odd one.  I didn’t love it, and it it’s s not one that I would do again. And I’d think twice before suggesting it to other people.  I guess, if you’d not walked any other route it would be perfectly lovely but it lacks the awe inspiring views and leg challenging climbs of the Primitivo and  the beauty, variety and the camaraderie of the Frances.  For me there was just too much time spent walking on, or right next to, roads.  If you are considering the Inglés I would suggest going with a friend.  You don’t have to walk with them, but on such a short Camino you are not guaranteed to meet kindred spirits and it is nice to have someone to chat to in the evening.  Sharing a private room often costs the same as )or a couple of euros more than) two bunks in a shared dorm. 

Home now beckons.  A cup of tea sounds quite wonderful. Looking forward to seeing what comes next.  I  will spend some time helping my oldest set up his new shop, I’ve got my middle child’s graduation to attend - life with five children  (even if they are all grown up)  is never boring!  I do now that I will be back in Spain  thou walk another Camino soon.

Camino Inglés day 4: Hospital de Bruma to Sigueiro

A
2k trek back to the Camino meant I was keen to get started early start this morning but not so keen that I changed my alarm!  For once I was asleep when it went off. I was on the road by 6.15am and I knew that there would be far less elevation gain today so I wasn’t too worried.  

This morning was the first day that I felt that an extra layer might be needed. It was marginal, so I decided not to bother and just walk faster.  It was foggy which meant my field of vision was severely limited.  In a collection of houses that dared to call itself a village I found a weird collection of statues that appeared to have been rescued from churches and a dinosaur!  There was also a tractor on an elevated train track.  Or maybe I was hallucinating due to lack of caffeine! At about 8km I found a bar selling coffee and saw the Spanish couple and the German girl I’d met previously. Believe me, until you’ve tried to explain the phrase ‘hair of the dog’ to someone with limited command of the English language you haven’t lived!  There was no sign of Courtney, the only English speaking pilgrim I’ve met on this Camino.  It seems that she wasn’t planning to leave Bruma until 7am - an hour after the three she had been walk with.

The fog threatened to become rain and it can’t be denied that this country desperately needs rain right now.  At one coffee stop the news channel was broadcasting reports that the wild fires had reached Lugo where I was this time last week.  I put the waterproof cover on my back pack but left my jacket unworn.  I’d rather get a bit wet than wear a waterproof jacket!  The noise drives me to distraction.  It has to be bucketing it down for me to bother.  And I’ve asked myself every single day why I packed waterproof trousers!  Even in tne torrential downpours I had on my way to Finisterra last year that was 175g of kit I didn’t use. 

The fog limited the views, it felt very hemmed in all day.  The walking was easy, overall downhill, mostly on asphalt with a a few trails through eucalyptus plantations.

 There was an approximately 5km stretch alongside a  very busy dual carriageway.  Not exactly inspiring! This was followed by a route through an industrial estate to get to the centre of Sigueiro.  I know it can’t all be stunning vistas and the glory of nature, but I’d rather not have juggernauts racing past!  There was a brief respite just

before the end of the town when the Camino went through a park and over a medieval bridge.

Sigueiro is a largish town.  It even had a sports shop - I managed to pick up some spare socks in case my remaining pair don’t make it to Santiago.  I had a delicious salad and a couple of beers in a great cafe.  I could happily eat there again for dinner tonight -

I will have to see if they are open for dinner. Then I returned to my accommodation for a siesta.  It is a largish town.  It has a lot of Albergues.  The chances of being in a dorm with people I have already encountered are small… and yet… 

Just after I lay down on my bed (no bunk beds here) in my 6 bed room who should walk in but the three young Spanish guys from Betanzos.  They have not learned any dorm manners.  Ah well, it is only one night.  I’m currently drowning then out by listening to the ‘Rumors’ album at full volume on my headphones. 

Camino Inglés day 3: Betanzos to Hospital de Bruma/O Mesón Do Vento

 Before I write about today let’s talk about dormitory etiquette.  The word itself is derived from the Latin ‘dormire’ which means ‘to sleep.’  That should be all one needs to know in order to behave appropriately in a dormitory.  And, when on Camino, pilgrims sleep a lot.  Or try to! Yesterday afternoon at about 5pm, siesta time, three of us were snoozing or quietly relaxing on our beds.  Three young Spanish men came in, talking loudly, laughing and joking.  As late arrivals they each had top bunks. One thing you should not do when climbing onto the top bunk is to use the pillow of the lower bunk to step on.  Especially when your foot is still encased in the sweaty walking sock you have been wearing all day (and from the smell possibly longer).  This crime is even more egregious if the occupant of the lower bunk has her head on said pillow at the time!  Shall we say that I wasn’t warming to these new arrivals?  The three of them proceeded to chat across the dorm and on their mobile phones, often turning the volume up as they showed each other videos.  At 6.30pm I’d had enough and went out to find dinner.  On my return they were still at it.  There was a brief respite when they went out to dinner at 8.30pm, but they returned a couple of hours later.  Let’s just say that none of the early risers in the dorm felt at all guilty if we made a noise this morning!

It was an odd Albergue. It had the most chaotic kitchen I’ve ever seen (mine included) and I’m not sure that all the hospitalieros are on the same page.  I’d booked my bed in advance and arrived relatively early.  A group I met and was chatting with hadn’t booked but were told there was space when they arrived.  At about 6.30pm however two people with reservations arrived.  The hospitaliero was not on site, so they phoned the number to check in.  The first we knew was that they were walking through the dorms looking for their beds.  Which had been given to other people.  I can’t imagine how awful they felt, thinking they were at their destination and then having to hunt around for somewhere else.

I woke up in the middle of the night in a panic about my accommodation for tonight.  I’d booked via email, and it occurred to me that, although I’d supplied all the information requested, I hadn’t had anything back that said, definitively I had a room.  Accommodation at this stage is tricky because two paths meet and Hospital de Bruma is tiny.  It is also 10km to the next town on the Camino that has any accommodation.  I had booked a room 2km off the Camino rather than walk hoping to get a bed in the municipal albergue which only has 19 beds.  I emailed, because ‘phoning at 2am didn’t seem like a good idea.  I ‘phoned at 8am and got no reply.  By then I was already walking, and walking with a purpose.  Every other place had been fully booked when I’d been doing my planning.  If my room wasn’t secure I needed to be one of the first 19 people to arrive at the municipal. It wasn’t until about 5km before Hospital de Bruma that I managed to make ‘phone contact.  I used my best Spanglish and was relieved to have my reservation confirmed.  

So what about the actual walk? Today was the ‘big hills’ day. This meant that there was about the same elevation gain as on a typical Primitivo day.  The difference being that today’s walk was mainly on asphalt which makes it easier as you don’t have to worry about tripping over or loose stones. I raced a group up one of the long hills.  I’m not sure the youngsters realised it was a race, but I won anyway! I chatted with Courtney, originally from California now living in Algiers, a couple of times while walking and when our stops coincided.  I had the best tortilla ever at my breakfast stop at Mesón Museo. It was fresh out of the pan and was just delicious. And although I have failed to see a theee legged cat, I did see a three legged dog.  It was a small dog - so almost a cat. 

On arriving at Hospital de Bruma I discovered that I would need to retrace my steps for about 500m to find the road to Mesón do Vento.  In some ways this walk along farm tracks was some of the best walking of the day.  

In other news, I knew I’d regret getting rid of the socks I wasn’t wearing.  I had two pairs I was wearing in rotation, until someone took one pair off the drying line, they even took the two safety pins that were attaching them to the line.  So now I am down to one pair.  Obviously the pair that I have left is the older pair, I predict at least one hole appearing by the time I finish walking! 

 

Camino Inglés day 2: Pontedeume to Betanzos

 Before I forget, again, there is a question that has been bugging me.  I see lots of dogs here who are on chains in the garden.  Every dog I know in the UK has an uncanny ability to get itself entangled in its lead, yet the dogs here seem to be able to cope with being chained up.  How?

Last night I could swear I could hear people talking every time I woke up.  The reason for this became clear when I left my accommodation at 6am.  The square outside was full of people, still wide awake, still drinking and their night out! No wonder the siesta is important here.  

Today’s walk was OK.  Mainly on tarmac roads winding along country lanes and through small villages.  The areas I am walking through are far more populated than on the Frances or Primitivo, I’m just going to have to get used that.  More houses doesn’t seem to mean more open coffee shops. The curse of walking on a Sunday is that you have no idea if the bar or cafe mentioned in the guide/on the app will be open.  Today it was 11km before I found a place open for coffee in a village that wasn’t even mentioned on the app.  They served one of the best croissants I have ever eaten and had toilets that were so sparklingly clean that I felt I was the first person ever to use them. 

I saw four other pilgrims while walking today, this route is very quiet from that point of view.  On arriving at my Albergue I snagged a bottom bunk and waited for the shower.  There are eight bunks and one shower and toilet between us. Not ideal, but it is only for one night.  I found the local supermarket and picked up something to eat- just in case nowhere serves dinner before 9pm (the time advertised in two places I have seen so far) - before going out to look for lunch. 

Betanzos is a walled town on the bank of the Mandeo river,  but the cafes and shops are all perched precariously on the steep hill.  As it is Sunday most shops are closed.  I always forget that it is Sunday!  The centre feels prosperous, but there are still semi derelict and abandoned buildings in the ‘high street.’ 

Siesta beckons now…

Camino Inglés day 1: Ferrol to Pontedeume

 Not only was last night a fiesta in Ferrol it was also the Rally de Ferrol. This started in the next street to my hotel, secondary double glazing was not up to the challenge so I took advantage of the hotel WiFi to leave Radio4 playing for a couple of hours while I feel asleep.  

I woke before my alarm went off.  Repacked my bag and set off.  I am so glad I didn’t need to retrace my steps to the very start. I knew that I would have to spend some time walking out of the town but, and I blame a chronic lack of research, I didn’t realise that it would be 18,5km until I saw anything resembling trail! And even then it was a path about 5m away from a dual carriageway! 

What research I had done (joined a Facebook group, read a few posts) told me that I was in for ‘hills, hills and then some more hills’ so I was pleasantly surprised by how gentle the hills were.  I may have cursed the crappy navigation skills of the early English pilgrims, who could have saved me a 17k walk through residential and industrial estates if they had just landed their boat on the other side of the river. 

I didn’t see any other pilgrims until at least 16kn.  I suspect they had started from Neda as this is suggested by the guide book as a useful way to break up the one long stage on this Camino.  No chats were had today.  It feels very odd to know that I won’t see the Primitivo gang. I did get an update from Maura and the two Carols with a picture of them in front of the Cathedral in Santiago. 

Pontedeume is a pretty town. I’m sitting outside a bar in the town square with a cold beer people watching.  There is some sort of book/library festival going on, but what I am struck by, again and again on this trip, is the fact that  Spanish people seem to have a better work-life balance than we do.  

Oh! My accommodation tonight deserves a mention.  I couldn’t reserve a bed at any of the Albergues, so have needed up in a room above a restaurant.  The room is tiny, but has its own bathroom and cost me €20 - that’s only about €4 more than a bunk bed in an Albergue dorm. 

Camino Inglés Day 0: Getting to the start!

A WhatsApp message from a friend this morning, in response to me stating that I was on a bus, asked ‘Wnu Ferrol?’  My answer was ‘So that I can walk back to Santiago!’  The Camino Inglés hadn’t really been on my radar until I realised that the Primitivo would leave me with time to spare. I wasn’t certain I wanted to commit the extra time but, having not bought a return ticket, I set out on the Primitivo thinking that decisions wouldn’t need to be made until that one was done and dusted.  It didn’t quite work out like that.  Being a short Camino (114km) the Inglés is normally quiet.  The wildfires seem to have changed that.  At one point sections of the hugely popular Frances route were closed, pushing people to find other routes.  A few enquiries about accommodation on the Inglés told me that a decision needed to be made and beds needed to be booked. I started booking accommodation about a week ago. The last piece in tne puzzle finally fell into place yesterday morning.  Or at least I think it is all in place, I have a list of dates, towns and hostels scribbled on the back of a napkin!

This morning I had a lie in!  I didn’t get up until 6.30am.  I showered, sorted my kit out, and headed off to the bus station.  I was far too early for my 8.50am bus, but I wanted to be sure that I knew where I was going.  The ticket to Ferrol was €8 for a two hour journey.  

I got to Ferrol just before 11am. Hours before I could check into my room. I left my backpack there and made my way to the Pilgrim Office to get my new credential.  My hotel was 3km from the start of the Camino. I got my map out and decided that not even I am quite mad enough to add 3km to an already longish day tomorrow.  I walked from the Pilgrim Office to a point close to the hotel and recorded it on Garmin.  Tomorrow I can just get up and go!

After that I wandered around the town, had a delicious empanada and a beer for lunch before checking into the hotel for a siesta.  It feels odd to know that I definitely won’t bump into my Camino family again.  New adventures await, starting with a bit of exploring around Ferrol later this evening. 

Day 13: O Pedrouzo to Santiago.

 And, just like that, it is done! 

An early(ish) start, because I was awake, meant that I was on the trails before they got too busy.  I set myself a target of getting to Santiago before 11am.  Not a hugely challenging target to be fair, but one that meant I would have plenty of time in the afternoon to complete boring tasks like laundry.

I thought that I remembered this section clearly.  I’m my mind it was all downhill and mostly alongside the airport.  I also remember it being hugely crowded.  An early start, combined with being slightly closer to Santiago at the start, meant that I was ahead of the crowd from the start.  I decided to pick up the pace.  If I saw someone ahead (people join the trail from wherever they have spent the night) I made it my mission to overtake them.  It made the time pass more quickly, which is just as well because the route itself is nothing special at this point.  The best bits were through woodland, delicious smells of eucalyptus and wild herbs, Not so nice was seeing the evidence of wild fires. And there was quite a bit of time spent walking on a path next to a main road.  There was also a bit more uphill than I’d remembered.

A pair of traditionally dressed Galician pipers were playing by the side of the trail about 8k outside Santiago.  Most people who have completed a Camino will remember the piper that plays under the archway as you approach the cathedral, well I got there too early for anyone to be playing there, so at least I heard them once during the Camino.

The weather was misty this morning, I thought I was on for yet another arrival in the rain, but the clouds started to clear as I approached Santiago allowing me to see a glimpse of the cathedral as I approached.  It was great to get to the Plaza de Obradorio before it got too crowded.  I took a couple of photos and made my way to the pilgrim office to register for my compostella.  I was the 120th pilgrim to finish today and the first from the Primitivo (not that it is a competition).  

Next I dumped my bag at my Albergue for the night (KM0), jumped in a taxi to Decathlon on the outskirts of town, where I was hunting for a charging cable for my Garmin.  Apparently they only do them online.  I treated myself to a new outfit though which means I can put all my clothes in a washing machine this afternoon get them properly clean!

Back into town and feeling peckish. There was only one thing for it. Kebab, gin and tonic at the Newroz Kebob. Only a 10 second pour on the gin  this time - but I suppose it is only lunchtime.  A quick stop at the hostel, a shower and brand new clothes felt wonderful, and then I was out again.  When I got here this morning Santiago was a sleepy little city, with quiet streets. By mid afternoon those narrow streets are crowded with people.  In the old part of the city most of the shops are souvenir shops, the newer part has all the ‘high street’ names.  I took refuge at ‘Botafumeiro,’ a bar on the approach to the cathedral, ordered a beer and wrote some postcards while people watching. 

The three schoolboys came past, they finished a couple of hours ago, and stopped to say hello.  I think that completing a Camino at their age (16/17) is a great achievement. A couple of days ago they asked me if I was a teacher.  I wondered what might make them think that.  Apparently, about a week ago, I’d wanted to get their attention and I’d said ‘Boys!’ in a way that made them all instantly stops what they were doing, wonder what they’d been caught doing wrong, and turn to face me instantly!

Back at the Albergue, lying on my bed after repacking my backpack (I jettisoned a couple of unworn pairs of socks to make room for new skort, top and underwear) I suddenly heard my name! Paulo, one of the Italians on the Primitivo is here too.  He’s catching a train to Madrid at 5.45am tomorrow. I told him not to say goodbye.

This evening I’m rewarding myself with a nice meal because I did a SCARY THING.  I didn’t realise quite how scary it was going to be when I booked it.  After all I’ve done the Sydney Bridge Climb and Up at the O2. The roof top tour of Santiago Cathedral is terrifying and wonderful. I don’t think my terror levels were helped by the fact that our tour guide only spoke in Spanish, she obviously gave out some safety instructions, but she spoke so quickly that I hadn’t got a chance of understanding her.  The views were stunning. It was worth scaring myself.  I just wish I’d understood more! 

Day 12: Melide to O Pedrouzo

 I said ‘goodbye’ to the two Italian girls in the supermarket last night.  They pointed out that they had seen me and spoken to me every day since the very first day when they followed me because I ‘seemed so confident’ about which direction I was heading.  I wished them both well, they are planning to make it to Santiago the day after I do as one of them (shamefully I don’t know their names) has injured her leg. 

My slightly out of the way room was a good choice.  The fiesta in Melide kicked off at 10.30pm, eventually winding up at 5am.  There were some grumpy pilgrims who had been ‘serenaded’ through the wee small hours.  The stage was being packed down and a general clean up was underway as I set out just after 6am. And my early start was rewarded with a couple of relatively quiet hours on the trail.  Some bits looked vaguely familiar, others I could have sworn I was seeing for the first time ever.  

About 5km in I found Pietro (one of the Italians who was on the Primitivo) outside a coffee bar.  He’d had a bad night in Melide (loud music) and JUST WANTED A COFFEE!   He couldn’t get his head around the fact the owner was in there, drinking coffee, but refusing to open up the constant stream of caffeine craving potential customers walking past him.  I fired up my Buen Camino app.  It was only 3km to the next town with a coffee shop. I told him that by the time we got there it would probably be open.   Crossing my fingers for myself as much as for Pietro.  On we went, Pietro ranting about ‘idiots who don’t want to make money!’ I dropped back a bit, I didn’t feel like spending the next couple of kilometres placating an angry Italian.  And what if the next place was closed? Far better to let him discover that himself. 

We were in luck.  It was open!  I had a coffee and a slice of tortilla and wrote a postcard.  It was odd to be in a bar and only recognise one other person.  I had become very accustomed to our mobile village on the Primitivo, but resigned myself to not seeing my Camino family regularly from now on. 

After breakfast the trail got much busier.  Big groups, family groups, schools groups! I had a long day, so promised myself second breakfast.  About 8km before my destination I stopped at a cafe.  It was table service, which is a bit unusual, but the place looked to be doing a roaring treads so I sat down.  And waited. And waited.  I signalled to the waiter that I was ready to order. And waited.  I had a conversation with Paulo, another of the Italian Primitivo pilgrims when he stopped to say hello. And I waited some more.  All around me groups were being served and I was being ignored so I picked up my rucksack and left!

I’m now in O Pedrouzo, also known and O Pino.  I passsd through here on my last day of the Camino Frances and remember an excellent cafe for breakfast and some great murals.  I haven’t found either of those things yet.

Day 11: Ferrier to Melide.

 What a night!  Thirteen of us crammed into a dorm, wooden bunk beds that creaked if you so much as looked a them. Snorers! Lots of snorers! And just to add to the fun the mosquitoes were out in force and hungry.  I bumped into one of the two Italian girls this afternoon.  We agreed that it was probably the worst night so far.  To make things worse everyone got up at about 5am.  I tried to ignore them and sleep but soon gave in.  I have no idea what they were up to, breakfast wasn’t going to be served until 7am and no one seemed to be in a hurry to leave.  I was the first out just after

The early start meant that the first couple of coffee bars were closed when I got to them.  I slowed down a bit and got to the third and final option at 9:01am.  Miraculously it was open. I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, catching up with a few familiar faces.  In contrast to yesterday, the way was virtually deserted.  Maybe the newbies were having a lie in?  I had a chat with Rika (from Germany).  She told me of a woman who, having started in Lugo, was disgusted by the smell of cow shit.  So much so that she threw up!  She will have had a tough day today, one thing the Galician countryside has a lot of is cow shit! 6am.

Today I got to the point where the Primitivo and the Frances merge in Melide.  I have consciously chosen stopping points that I didn’t stay in last year.  I wondered how much I would remember.  Not much it seems!  Melide seems to be clearing up after a fiesta.  It does not ring any bells at all. Looking back, I see that I stopped here for breakfast and had my first ever churro.  This time I arrived at 11am, checked into my accommodation, showered and sallied forth to find lunch.  I only wanted a salad… I couldn’t even finish it because it was huge 

Day 10: Lugo to Ferrier

 Just 100km to go and it is all change on the Camino.  100km is the minimum distance required to be eligible for a ‘compostela’ and today’s walk saw an influx of new faces.  Large groups walking with small daysacks and loud music.  At the same time my Camino family is fragmenting. Maura and the two Carols have chosen to have a couple of shorter days, as has Rapha, Paulo is pushing on to the next village. Styn from Belgium (previously wrongly identified by me as Sven from Sweden) has taken a bus to Santiago as he wants to walk to Finisterra, and the albergues in the village of Ferrier are so spread out that even if I was in the same village as the rest of the group I am unlikely to bump into them.  I think, given the time he had available, Styn chose wisely.  He got the early part of this Camino, which was tougher, quieter and with stunning scenery.  

Today’s 27km stage was relatively straightforward. As evidenced by the fact that there are a group of us sitting outside the Albergue waiting for it to open so we can check in.  A 27k stage in the earlier stages of this Camino would have taken far longer, there would have been more hills and more swearing!  

Last night was spent at the Hospedería San Froilan.  The price of a single room included breakfast ‘from 7am.’  I knew I’d be on my way by then so didn’t think too much about it.  I woke to find a message from Styn, also staying in tne Hospederia, to say that he’d not been able to sleep and when he’d wandered down to the breakfast room everything was set out already.  For the first time I managed to have a coffee before I started walking. And to make a sandwich for later.

There was a vending machine rest stop at one of the early villages we passed through, selling snacks and coffee. A nice shelter and a toilet.  It was all so clean and tidy despite the constant steam of people passing through.  Another short stop for coffee in San Romano de Retorta and more old and new faces. I checked in on the trio of school boys - they are doing well.  

This is a short Camino.  Just three more days until Santiago.  Two are shortish and one long day left.  Not 100% sure what I’ll do next.  For now I am just relaxing on my bunk bed, hoping that the newbies realise that dorm time is quiet time  This is one of the villages where finding the three legged cat might be the most exciting thing that happens!

Day 9: O Cadavo to Lugo

 It seems that the ping of a microwave is impossible to sleep through!  My dorm was next to the kitchen in last night’s albergue so when people started using the kitchen just after 5am I knew I might as well get up.  I’d looked at all the Camino apps and was reassured that there would be places to stop for breakfast en route, in fact the apps had all stressed that I should stack up with supplies at Castroverde  as it would be the last chance on this stage. Castroverde was closed.  There were lots of interesting looking bars and cafes, but the town was deserted.  

I had no option but to press on, fantasising about a strong, black coffee.  The route today had far less elevation gain which made for a faster pace. And most of the paths were smooth meaning I could get into a rhythm and look around while I was walking without worrying too much about falling over.  The air seemed clearer too, we’d had a short shower of rain at about 6am - maybe that had something to do with it.  

I chatted in broken Spanish, Italian and French as we all played leap frog along the trail.  Turns out we all wanted a coffee.  I’d decided that the next bench, seat or picnic table I saw was going to be the place I stopped for a break, but I just didn’t see anything for ages.  Eventually, as I was leaving Gondar, with only about 13km still to go I heard 80’s music playing and saw a ‘pilgrim oasis’ to my right.

Here a man was busy slicing up melons and nectarines and pouring cups of coffee for passing pilgrims.  There weee seats and shade,  I’d not realised such treats were on offer. I’d just stoped because of the seating, but as I hadn’t eaten the fruit was very welcome.

Lugo is a bustling city, even on a Sunday afternoon.  The bars are restaurants are heaving.  It is quite a shock to the system after a week of sleepy little towns! Lugo has an impressive Roman wall - its perimeter is 2km (so less than that of Chester) but it looks much more complete.  I’d normally have a wall around city walls, but I don’t feel the need to add a viaduct that dates back to the Romans too.  

I’m not sure how much sightseeing I’ll do. I’m ready for a  siesta after I get something to eat! 

Camino Primitivo Day 8: A Fonsagrada to O Cadavo.

 Not for nothing does ‘Wise Pilgrim’ describe this section as the ‘leg wrecker!’  I think there was about 80m of flat on the whole stage. The rest was up, up, up or down, down, down!

I overslept this morning as I forgot to change my alarm from every weekday to every day, which meant a slightly later start than I’d have liked, but on the plus side Garmin says my body battery was at 61%, the first time it has been over 40% for weeks.  Maybe private rooms and aircon are what I need! 

Last night, as I sat with Maura and Carol having a beer, we realised that we were being covered in ash.  There are wildfires in Spain but last night was the first time I was really aware of them.  This morning instead of mist there was a smokey haze and the smell of smoke.  It smelt like November in the UK, but was as warm as June.  

I am sure that the views are normally stunning, but the smoke haze closed them down.  I’d become used to seeing forever.  We’ve been promised rain for days now.  I hope we get some to help prevent the fires spreading and to improve the air quality.  

It was quite a long slog, maybe 12k, to breakfast bir when I got there is was lovely to see so many of my Camino family. They were either already there or came in while I was there.  The more challenging terrain of this Camino, compared to the Frances, means that very few people do long stages.  This means you can be pretty certain of seeing familiar faces during the hike and when you reach your accommodation.  This is lovely and almost makes up for the absence of communal meals in the Albergues.  

The Camino trail takes us through Melide, which is where one of the fires is raging.  Who knows if we will make it to Santiago this time?  Let’s just hope the rain, for which this part of Spain is so famous, arrives soon!  Yes it will turn the trail paths into rivers - but putting out fires will save lives and livelihoods.

Day 7: Grande de Salime to A Fonsagrada

 I don’t often take a disliking to unmarried mothers &’ve never met, much less those who lived over 2000 years ago, but today… well let’s just say that the Virgin Mary and I are no longer on speaking terms (if we ever were).  Today is a holiday for Mary which means all the shops and a lot of the bars and cafes are closed.  Which would have been ok (ish) if someone had thought to tell the non Spanish pilgrims that this was the case.  As it was I had a 25km stage planned, fairly hilly, but I thought I’d be able to break it up with a couple of stops for coffee.  I had some biscuits, an orange and plenty of water ‘just in case!’

I left Grande de Salime at around 6.30am.  It was dark and foggy but a warm 22c.  It feels odd to be warm in the fog.  I knew the day was going to get hot (the local forecast predicts it will be 41c this afternoon) so I wanted to get some kilometres done before it got too warm.  As the Sun came up, and the temperature rose, the views revealed themselves.  A good excuse to stop and look (and catch

I’m starting to recognise fellow pilgrims as we leapfrog each other along the trail.  We are all going at our own pace, sometimes faster, sometimes slower.  Most pilgrims on the Primitivo seem to be Spanish or Italian, so conversation is a bit plodding.  Most of the time I am happy to walk on my own.

I never feel lonely, there’s plenty going on in my brain to keep me busy and the audiobooks and podcasts I downloaded have yet to be listened to.  Today I saw

A news article about teachers in the UK being allowed to be called ‘Mx’ rather than ‘Sir’ or ‘Miss’ caught my attention.  I’ve always hated being called ‘Miss,’  it is a lazy shorthand when I have a perfectly good name that could be use.  And I’m a ‘Mrs’ not a ‘Miss!’  And don’t get me started on the difference between ‘Sir’ and ‘Miss’ in terms of implied respect.  I have (or should I say had?) a particular aversion to colleagues referring to each other as ‘Miss’ when talking to students or other teachers.  

So that little train of thought kept me busy for a while (as well as trying to work out how to pronounce ‘Mx’) and gave me something other than the lack of coffee to think about.  And the hills.  Lots of hills!  

At some point we passed from Asturia into Galicia.  A fact I realised because the way markers change.  

In Galicia the way markers have a strangely precise, but often not accurate distance to Santiago on them.  Occasionally you’ll walk a couple of kilometres but the next marker you see will put you further away from Santiago. 

The last kilometre and a half was a bit of a challenge.  Hugely steep hill on very hot weather and direct sunlight.  I was walking from one patch of shade to the next where I would pause, cool down a little, and allow my heart rate to reduce a little.  I got there in the end.  I’m in a private room tonight in an Albergue.  My room has air conditioning!  Feels amazing to be cool.  

A Fonsagrada seems to be closed for the holiday.  Luckily I have an orange and some biscuits left as replenishing my snacks would be impossible.  I’ll go out later to see which bars are serving food. It feels a long time since the hamburger I had last night, a packet of crisps and a beer from a vending machine aren’t really cutting it for lunch.  I eventually got a coffee at 2pm!

Day 6: Berduceso to Grande de Salime

 Last night saw four middle aged women sitting outsode a bar, glued to their ‘phones in a way normally only see in the minutes leading up to the release of Oasis gig tickets.  We were all trying to book accommodation for the next few days.  The two Carols and Maura were walking together so finding three beds in the same Albergue was harder for them than for me, but even so I have ended up with more private rooms than I anticipated.  On the plus side (financially) I will arrive in Santiago earlier than I thought so I am cancelling my super fancy hotel room.  I now have accommodation booked up to and including Santiago.  I then need to decide what I want to do next.

The dorm I was in last night had a group of six Spanish  women, a couple and me.  Another night of no snoring!  The group of six started waking up at 4.30am and, thought they tried to be quiet, I gave up and started to get ready at about 5.30am.  They’d been up a whole hour and were still faffing about, monopolising the bathroom and being loudly quiet!  I’m not sure what time we left (my Garmin charging cable decided to give up the ghost yesterday so I have it on ultimate power saving settings) but it was early.  And misty!  Head torches in mist mean a very limited field of vision, so there was little to do but get my head in the game and walk!  

Having left so bloody early I arrived in the next village hours before anything was open for coffee.  I carried on.  The walk today was mainly on lovely, smooth paths.  There were significant ascents and descents, but it is so much easier when you don’t have to watch where you are putting every step.  

I stopped for a breakfast snack on the side of a hill overlooking the Grandes de Salime hydroelectricity dam.  The trail was making its way down to cross over the dam - which meant that we would have to climb up the other side later!

Had ‘breakfast with a view’ at Vistalegre.  

After a hearty breakfast, and a chat with three lower sixth Eton boys I set off back up the other side of the dam.  I soon caught up with Sven (from Belgium not Sweden£ and Victor from Valencia. We chatted about learning foreign languages, this bloody hill, home towns, this hill, work and this bastard hill all the way to Grande de Salime!  All of us arriving far too early to check into our accommodation, so resorting to a bar!