I have scaled the highest mountains on the trip. Didn't get to touch snow, but it was on the next mountain over. It was all melting on the mountains I climbed, the trails looking and sounding more like waterfalls than like paths for pilgrims to walk on.
Walking sticks are extremely useful when climbing and descending waterfalls ... they are helpful for checking which stones are sturdy, testing the depth of the water, balancing, giving me a head start on leaping those stones that appear just a bit too far. It requires constant concentration, and walking through mud is such a pleasure by comparison.
When the paths are a bit simpler, I am able to admire the beauty ... the pink and yellow flowers on the hillside, the streams and waterfalls, the old trees and interesting rocks. Some of the trees have been there for hundreds of years, and have a character all their own, and it is easy to see how fairies and other such creatures must be living there. This is even easier to see when I am walking with a professional story-teller, as I have been off and on for the past few days. It is really an ideal setting for hearing fairy tales, complete with idyllic landscapes and old castles.
The way was really empty for quite a while ... I met only five pilgrims in over a week. But now, a big group more, all walking at different speeds, but it is good to know that there are others on the route as well, and nicer albergues now that we are in Galicia ... places with kitchens and heat.
The weather has been wonderful for the past week, no rain until today, and quite warm. One evening I stayed at Teresa's place. It's not written up in any of the guidebooks ... there appears to be a long stretch with nowhere to stay. But the hospitalero two towns back said to just go to the town and ask for Teresa ... and it worked. A couple of men outside the bar came to meet me and walked me over to her place. It included an unfinished room which was used as an open air terrace ... the evening was warm and an ideal place to watch the sunset.
I am very excited to have entered Galicia today. I have now walked as far as I did on the Camino Frances, and I can eat all my favourite foods once again ... I shall describe them another day, after I have savoured them once again.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Santa Croya de la Tera
A beautiful sunny warm day today ... feels so good to soak in the sun, to be warm.
I have started heading west towards Galicia ... saw the snow-capped mountains today, and the road has become more winding and hilly. This is a relief. The meseta is beautiful, with the bright green new fields and the blue, blue Spanish sky ... bluer here than anywhere else. And it's thrilling to be in the middle of nowhere, seeing nothing but sky and fields. But the mind can go a bit crazy there, and I was looking forward to ignoring a track to the left ... it was the only landmark listed in my guidebook.
There is nowhere to paint arrows on the Meseta, so whoever does this is very creative. Sometimes they arrange rocks, or find one of the larger stones in the gravel road. Sometimes it's on a piece of cement overgrown with weeds. When I get to an intersection on the Meseta, I must simply stop and wait for the arrow to appear, for it always does if I stop looking for it.
Today I am at a lovely albergue which has been advertised ever since Zamora. The people who run it are very friendly, and it is clean and well-equipped. There was a shady little hut on the way here, after climbing a large hill, and those of us who stopped for lunch there decided this would be a wonderful place to stop for the day, and I am glad we did, for the owners have suggested places to stay along the next stretch that were not in any of our guidebooks, and it makes the next stretch possible.
Also we were rewarded in the evening with a tour of their bodega. Bodegas are hobbit-like huts in the hill, built over a century ago for storing wine. None of us expected these small doorways to open into a big room with tables and benches, and a floor downstairs with the wine cellars. The inside of the bodega was quite large and comfortable ... a real treat to see the inside of the bodegas we've been passing for the last while.
I have started heading west towards Galicia ... saw the snow-capped mountains today, and the road has become more winding and hilly. This is a relief. The meseta is beautiful, with the bright green new fields and the blue, blue Spanish sky ... bluer here than anywhere else. And it's thrilling to be in the middle of nowhere, seeing nothing but sky and fields. But the mind can go a bit crazy there, and I was looking forward to ignoring a track to the left ... it was the only landmark listed in my guidebook.
There is nowhere to paint arrows on the Meseta, so whoever does this is very creative. Sometimes they arrange rocks, or find one of the larger stones in the gravel road. Sometimes it's on a piece of cement overgrown with weeds. When I get to an intersection on the Meseta, I must simply stop and wait for the arrow to appear, for it always does if I stop looking for it.
Today I am at a lovely albergue which has been advertised ever since Zamora. The people who run it are very friendly, and it is clean and well-equipped. There was a shady little hut on the way here, after climbing a large hill, and those of us who stopped for lunch there decided this would be a wonderful place to stop for the day, and I am glad we did, for the owners have suggested places to stay along the next stretch that were not in any of our guidebooks, and it makes the next stretch possible.
Also we were rewarded in the evening with a tour of their bodega. Bodegas are hobbit-like huts in the hill, built over a century ago for storing wine. None of us expected these small doorways to open into a big room with tables and benches, and a floor downstairs with the wine cellars. The inside of the bodega was quite large and comfortable ... a real treat to see the inside of the bodegas we've been passing for the last while.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Zamora
Another Sunday afternoon spent strolling along castle walls, looking through the windows at the countryside below, while the walls protect me from the wind.
This is the Meseta ... flat, windy, windy, windy. Walking at an angle to keep myself from falling into traffic. And as soon as it stops raining, my poncho dries, becomes lightweight again, and billows in the wind. And rainy too. The sounds of the Camino are wind and rain, and the footsteps of pilgrims, which are now a squishy sound as we walk through the red mud. Rather than the ups and downs of the earlier part of the Camino, steps are sideways, searching for spots in the road that are not filled with water. And just when this becomes discouraging, a field of yellow flowers encourages me onward.
I'm taking a rest day in Zamora, a city with 19 Romanesque churches. I have seen about 7 so far ... I shall see as many of the others as I have time for this evening. On this Camino the Romanesque churches are all different, filled with different images ... they are richer churches here, better kept than those on the Camino Frances.
My fascination with Semana Santa prompted me to visit the Semana Santa museum here. I think that has taken care of my fascination. It is very eerie seeing 30 of these floats all close together, depicting various stages of crucifixion and mourning, with masked statues standing guard. The glory of Semana Santa is not in these floats, but in the life and excitement of those who carry them and those who stand by cheering them on.
And now, it is time to stroll the streets of the city. Apparently everyone goes for a Sunday afternoon walk here, and I shall go out to join them.
This is the Meseta ... flat, windy, windy, windy. Walking at an angle to keep myself from falling into traffic. And as soon as it stops raining, my poncho dries, becomes lightweight again, and billows in the wind. And rainy too. The sounds of the Camino are wind and rain, and the footsteps of pilgrims, which are now a squishy sound as we walk through the red mud. Rather than the ups and downs of the earlier part of the Camino, steps are sideways, searching for spots in the road that are not filled with water. And just when this becomes discouraging, a field of yellow flowers encourages me onward.
I'm taking a rest day in Zamora, a city with 19 Romanesque churches. I have seen about 7 so far ... I shall see as many of the others as I have time for this evening. On this Camino the Romanesque churches are all different, filled with different images ... they are richer churches here, better kept than those on the Camino Frances.
My fascination with Semana Santa prompted me to visit the Semana Santa museum here. I think that has taken care of my fascination. It is very eerie seeing 30 of these floats all close together, depicting various stages of crucifixion and mourning, with masked statues standing guard. The glory of Semana Santa is not in these floats, but in the life and excitement of those who carry them and those who stand by cheering them on.
And now, it is time to stroll the streets of the city. Apparently everyone goes for a Sunday afternoon walk here, and I shall go out to join them.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Salamanca
At last I am in Salamanca, my favourite place on the Camino so far. But I say that nearly every day. Each day, around every corner, the scenes so beautiful and unexpected. Some days so peaceful and quiet, others filled with the bells of animals or the sounds of rain. The skies so blue ... bluer in Spain than anywhere else. Even the entrance to Salamanca was through a park with sheep grazing on the hillside, rather than through industry like it is in so many cities.
The Plaza Mayor in Salamanca is famous ... the best in Spain. And I sit there, glued to a bench, soaking in the energy and watching the people go by, chatting with those who sit to join me. There are restaurants all around the plaza where people quietly enjoy refreshments. And in the centre, students sitting on the concrete enjoying their lunches, soaking in the warm sun.
The walk to Salamanca was cold and wet. In one village they said there had been snow that morning. Although I have walked in rain only a few days so far, I have been dealing with the aftermath of rain also. The roads have become rivers at some points, and my boots have taken a few soakings. They started coming apart a couple of days ago, and I thought how fortunate that this happened right before a big city where I could get them repaired while I rest.
I have been traveling for some days with 3 French pilgrims, 3 Dutch pilgrims, and 2 German pilgrims. We have enjoyed sharing stories of our travels, and those of us who walk alone agree that one of the most difficult things to do is to put on a rain poncho over a backpack. It is necessary to face into the wind, using its assistance to help blow the poncho over the backpack. Also using a walking stick to push it up just a bit higher will sometimes do the trick. And everyone shares the same hesitation about walking among those cows in a red poncho.
Last night I dined with the German pilgrims, the only ones of this group still in Salamanca. One of them was celebrating a birthday, so we chose a special restaurant. I ordered the tuna with chocolate. I received two tuna steaks, one covered with a rich dark chocolate sauce and the other with white chocolate sauce. We were all surprised at how good it was. And this morning ... no need for my special city breakfast of churros with chocolate ... I chose a more sensible alternative of fresh fruit.
The Plaza Mayor in Salamanca is famous ... the best in Spain. And I sit there, glued to a bench, soaking in the energy and watching the people go by, chatting with those who sit to join me. There are restaurants all around the plaza where people quietly enjoy refreshments. And in the centre, students sitting on the concrete enjoying their lunches, soaking in the warm sun.
The walk to Salamanca was cold and wet. In one village they said there had been snow that morning. Although I have walked in rain only a few days so far, I have been dealing with the aftermath of rain also. The roads have become rivers at some points, and my boots have taken a few soakings. They started coming apart a couple of days ago, and I thought how fortunate that this happened right before a big city where I could get them repaired while I rest.
I have been traveling for some days with 3 French pilgrims, 3 Dutch pilgrims, and 2 German pilgrims. We have enjoyed sharing stories of our travels, and those of us who walk alone agree that one of the most difficult things to do is to put on a rain poncho over a backpack. It is necessary to face into the wind, using its assistance to help blow the poncho over the backpack. Also using a walking stick to push it up just a bit higher will sometimes do the trick. And everyone shares the same hesitation about walking among those cows in a red poncho.
Last night I dined with the German pilgrims, the only ones of this group still in Salamanca. One of them was celebrating a birthday, so we chose a special restaurant. I ordered the tuna with chocolate. I received two tuna steaks, one covered with a rich dark chocolate sauce and the other with white chocolate sauce. We were all surprised at how good it was. And this morning ... no need for my special city breakfast of churros with chocolate ... I chose a more sensible alternative of fresh fruit.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Hervas
I'm at a wonderful albergue at the moment ... sounds of Vivaldi the first classical music I've heard since I've been here, and it makes me want to stay, particularly since it is once again cold and rainy ... unusual for this time of year they tell me.
I try to wait out the heaviest rains near some kind of shelter, but this is not always possible, and my boots are still wet from yesterday. The other day another peregrina and I were standing under a large tree when we heard thunder and realized that was not the best place to be. We ducked into a nearby barn and had a lovely picnic there. Then proceeded to an arch in the middle of nowhere where we were picked up to go to a nearby hostal ... was glad there was an option to break up the otherwise 40 km walk in the rain.
I have decided to start eating more ... need a lot of food to sustain me on these walks. This is no problem at this albergue ... Ignacio, the hospitalero, made me 5 pieces of toast for breakfast and then offered more.
I am nearly to the halfway point of my walk ... have been looking forward to Salamanca as a resting point. Yesterday I saw that it is still 99 km away by road, probably longer by Camino, so it will be a few more days, though the villages are interesting along the way.
I try to wait out the heaviest rains near some kind of shelter, but this is not always possible, and my boots are still wet from yesterday. The other day another peregrina and I were standing under a large tree when we heard thunder and realized that was not the best place to be. We ducked into a nearby barn and had a lovely picnic there. Then proceeded to an arch in the middle of nowhere where we were picked up to go to a nearby hostal ... was glad there was an option to break up the otherwise 40 km walk in the rain.
I have decided to start eating more ... need a lot of food to sustain me on these walks. This is no problem at this albergue ... Ignacio, the hospitalero, made me 5 pieces of toast for breakfast and then offered more.
I am nearly to the halfway point of my walk ... have been looking forward to Salamanca as a resting point. Yesterday I saw that it is still 99 km away by road, probably longer by Camino, so it will be a few more days, though the villages are interesting along the way.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Plasencia
I have been through a lot of little villages since I last wrote. The weather has been very hot, making it necessary to travel early in the day, and I understand the tradition of siestas. Though now it has turned and become cool and rainy again.
It is bullfighting week here in Spain, so it is on TV at all the bars. Bars here are usually crowded and noisy and smoky, filled with men who are talking and laughing. But during the bullfights they are silent with the suspense, and then break out into cheers when the torreador is successful.
One night I found an albergue in the middle of nowhere ... nothing to do there, nowhere to go. It was exactly what I needed. The hospitalero heated up frozen pizzas for us. I shared the place with three English pilgrims with whom I've been traveling for several days.
The scenery has been beautiful, rolling hills, big boulders, lots of green ... the sound of bells on the cattle and the sheep is a constant companion. Many birds and butterflies as well ... and lines of ants and salamanders crossing the road.
A couple of nights ago there were 7 peregrinos at the albergue and we all ate together at the restaurant next door. We were under the impression that the meal would be salad and pasta, but the owner-cook-server had her own ideas. She brought salad to some of us, pasta to others. One pilgrim was only joining us for wine, but she brought him tortilla (a wonderful dish made with eggs and potatoes). We had no idea how she decided who would get what, but we were laughing so hard it was difficult to eat.
When we finished the first course, she brought out tortilla to some pilgrims, and slabs of pork and fries to others. We waited to see what would be next. Then for dessert, she insisted that we eat her homemade custard, for the other choices were all 'industrial'. None of us dared to ask for anything different. Then a round of liqueurs ... she chose those for us too. I would have liked the local specialty made from acorns, but was served an herbed orujo instead. An interesting evening all around. And in the morning she came downstairs with curlers in her hair to serve us our breakfast.
Today I am at a little village just off the Camino, suggested as a good detour point, and in the rain, it seemed as good a place to spend the day as any. There is little information available about what is open on the next section of the Camino ... this all changes daily, so I am interested to see where I shall go next.
It is bullfighting week here in Spain, so it is on TV at all the bars. Bars here are usually crowded and noisy and smoky, filled with men who are talking and laughing. But during the bullfights they are silent with the suspense, and then break out into cheers when the torreador is successful.
One night I found an albergue in the middle of nowhere ... nothing to do there, nowhere to go. It was exactly what I needed. The hospitalero heated up frozen pizzas for us. I shared the place with three English pilgrims with whom I've been traveling for several days.
The scenery has been beautiful, rolling hills, big boulders, lots of green ... the sound of bells on the cattle and the sheep is a constant companion. Many birds and butterflies as well ... and lines of ants and salamanders crossing the road.
A couple of nights ago there were 7 peregrinos at the albergue and we all ate together at the restaurant next door. We were under the impression that the meal would be salad and pasta, but the owner-cook-server had her own ideas. She brought salad to some of us, pasta to others. One pilgrim was only joining us for wine, but she brought him tortilla (a wonderful dish made with eggs and potatoes). We had no idea how she decided who would get what, but we were laughing so hard it was difficult to eat.
When we finished the first course, she brought out tortilla to some pilgrims, and slabs of pork and fries to others. We waited to see what would be next. Then for dessert, she insisted that we eat her homemade custard, for the other choices were all 'industrial'. None of us dared to ask for anything different. Then a round of liqueurs ... she chose those for us too. I would have liked the local specialty made from acorns, but was served an herbed orujo instead. An interesting evening all around. And in the morning she came downstairs with curlers in her hair to serve us our breakfast.
Today I am at a little village just off the Camino, suggested as a good detour point, and in the rain, it seemed as good a place to spend the day as any. There is little information available about what is open on the next section of the Camino ... this all changes daily, so I am interested to see where I shall go next.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Caceres
Today I have reached Caceres ... another big city on the trail. As is common with big cities, it was not well waymarked and I lost sight of the yellow arrows altogether. So I followed the music of guitar and recorder ... medieval sounds that perfectly match this walled city. As I listened, the sun was shining warmly, a gentle breeze blowing, and a cobblestone street beneath my feet. The view was of a castle, and in the background a green field with horses. I didn't mind being lost at all.
The turismo was closed when I arrived, and is now closed again, but I obtained a map from a police officer, enjoyed a cerveza with a plate of olives while I mapped out where I could have walked if I had seen the arrows. Spied two pilgrims receiving directions from someone, so quickly paid my bill and followed them, but by then they had disappeared .. but I walked straight into a library, which was one of the things I had been looking for. The other was accommodation, and while I was wandering I found a lovely little pension, so that is taken care of too.
This is a beautiful city, full of interesting casas to wander into ... not sure how it all works really, but will spend the morning here tomorrow also and walk only 11 km.
Last night I stayed in a small town ... in an albergue that had only 4 beds, a big dining room, a fully equipped kitchen, a bathroom with spare toilet paper and hot water, extra blankets, and a washer and dryer. What a wonderful find for only 3 euros. And I had the place to myself.
Yesterday I walked for a time with Emilio, a man who lives 3 km out of the village, on the Camino trail. Every morning he walks into the village for coffee, and then walks back home, talking with a pilgrim on the way. I often wonder what it would be like to live on this trail and have strangers with backpacks passing through every day.
I have been enjoying watching the storks on top of every church. There was a time change this weekend, so it is now still dark when I get up and I can enjoy watching them silhouetted while I drink my morning coffee. Then later in the day I watch them while I eat lunch in the square ... yesterday one was gracefully caring for its young.
In the evening, I asked a man where I could find a grocery store, in order to buy supplies to use in my fully equipped kitchen, and he proceeded to draw me a map of where I could go to view many many storks. He was quite insistent on telling me about this place, 8 km out of the way. I thanked him, and told him I was walking, and walked on, but he drove after me to give me this map. There are plenty of storks here in Caceres too though, and I have enjoyed watching them with 3 young Spanish women before we went to the musesum.
For tonight ... a good meal, and a good night's rest in my wonderful little pension.
The turismo was closed when I arrived, and is now closed again, but I obtained a map from a police officer, enjoyed a cerveza with a plate of olives while I mapped out where I could have walked if I had seen the arrows. Spied two pilgrims receiving directions from someone, so quickly paid my bill and followed them, but by then they had disappeared .. but I walked straight into a library, which was one of the things I had been looking for. The other was accommodation, and while I was wandering I found a lovely little pension, so that is taken care of too.
This is a beautiful city, full of interesting casas to wander into ... not sure how it all works really, but will spend the morning here tomorrow also and walk only 11 km.
Last night I stayed in a small town ... in an albergue that had only 4 beds, a big dining room, a fully equipped kitchen, a bathroom with spare toilet paper and hot water, extra blankets, and a washer and dryer. What a wonderful find for only 3 euros. And I had the place to myself.
Yesterday I walked for a time with Emilio, a man who lives 3 km out of the village, on the Camino trail. Every morning he walks into the village for coffee, and then walks back home, talking with a pilgrim on the way. I often wonder what it would be like to live on this trail and have strangers with backpacks passing through every day.
I have been enjoying watching the storks on top of every church. There was a time change this weekend, so it is now still dark when I get up and I can enjoy watching them silhouetted while I drink my morning coffee. Then later in the day I watch them while I eat lunch in the square ... yesterday one was gracefully caring for its young.
In the evening, I asked a man where I could find a grocery store, in order to buy supplies to use in my fully equipped kitchen, and he proceeded to draw me a map of where I could go to view many many storks. He was quite insistent on telling me about this place, 8 km out of the way. I thanked him, and told him I was walking, and walked on, but he drove after me to give me this map. There are plenty of storks here in Caceres too though, and I have enjoyed watching them with 3 young Spanish women before we went to the musesum.
For tonight ... a good meal, and a good night's rest in my wonderful little pension.
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