Life's a Stitch

16.8k

 

That delicious chocolate con churro, that we usually split, but this time had one each because it was so reasonable, kept us up with the caffeine content. What price glory? Lesson learned – order chocolate con churro in the morning. Hey familia, I will be bringing home the special chocolate so we can have it with Costco churros at Christmas.

 

It was a darn good thing we got that hill out of the way yesterday, because there were three more! 

 

The morning was misty, but eventually lifted.

Our first stop was at a pilgrim oasis, run by a woman selling coffee and delicious goodies, the characteristic Galician Celtic music playing in the background. We shared a piece of pineapple pound cake and a mini bocadillo with dried chorizo.

Next up was a more urban area featuring what felt like an outdoor gallery of graffiti. 

 

 

 

We passed an example of city art, that can be so controversial considering they are usually funded by tax dollars.

 

 

then under the sculptural look of the elevated highway system that comes with mixed reviews. It has definitely made a mark on Spain.

 

We met a pilgrim, originally from Malta, now living in Australia. He told me this is his last Camino. He started when he was 67, and now at 80, it’s his 14th. I asked how he knew it was the last. He said his legs have told him so. He now feels called to get a dog that will do long walks with him at home. It will be a beagle, named Molly. I  asked if he’ll stick closer to home. No way! He has a daughter to care for the dog when he’s travelling. Spunky guy. Chuck and 80-year/old Tony:

We met “Homer Simpson” today.

 

Arriving in Betanzos, we stopped for lunch at a decent pizza place. It was twice as good as the other night’s. Their other speciality, for which this town in known, is Spanish Tortilla, the potato omelet. The style here is quite runny, not my favourite. I was surprised at the number of people ordering pizza together with tortilla. So much food!

 

Tonight we’re in a hundred year old hotel described as not fussy. A good description, but it did come with a bathtub and hairdryer, which might be considered fussy. That headboard reminded me of a dining room table top plus the two leaves. Hmmm gives me ideas for our needed headboard at home.

Dinner was in the room after a steep trip down and uphill to the grocery store.

 

Then it was off to sleep as will be a long day.

14.7k

 

Ugh I made a planning blunder. We had planned to stop in a town earlier on the track yesterday, but ended up continuing. Then today planned on going the short distance to the next town and doing the steep climb out it, before our next stop. The only place to stay at the top of the hill had poor ratings. 

 

I booked a room in town without checking distances and it turns out it’s only 9k away. This was a blessing in disguise. You see, to exit Pontedeume, there is that killer hill. Arriving so early in the day it allowed us to leave our packs at our pension, enjoy lunch, and get the hill out of the way. Tomorrow we can cab back up to where we left off. 

 

We started off in the Galician mist.

 

 

Practicing the ritual that reminds us that the Camino isn’t always about moving forward, we looked back from whence we came.

 

You can tell it was an uphill day.

 

We met the cutest Camino well-wisher. He’s been taught well.

 

At lunch I heard a woman exclaim Ay Dios Mio!, just like my Puerto Rican grandmother. I thought it was funny because we hadn’t heard the Spanish use it as a exclamation. Walking up the infamous hill we met a group of four pilgrims. There was the woman from the restaurant and guess where she was from? Puerto Rico. I knew I recognized that accent. After a wonderful conversation she and her husband presented us with bracelets.

 

The hill was fine without backpacks. The glass of wine at lunch probably helped as well. It was so pleasant at the top we continued to walk through the woods until the forest released us onto a golf course. We split a Diet Coke and cabbed back to town. 

 

We treated ourselves to that decadent luxury, that we partake in once per Camino – chocolate con churro. 

 

Recognizing us from lunch the bartender threw in chocolate croissants and pound cake as well. No wonder I gained weight walking 790k on our first Camino. Everyone says it was probably muscle. I’m not sure about that.

 

We’re staying in classic non-alburgue accommodations, a room above a restaurant.

They’re all pretty much the same, reasonably priced, dated and clean. 

 

Dinner was a mere 18 steps each way from our room as opposed to last night’s 3k. It was adequate pilgrim fare. 18e for two bought an amazing amount of food: chicken broth with noodles, bread, fries and two pork chops each, dessert, 1.5 bottles of light chilled wine and two bottles of agua con gaz (fizzy water).

Tomorrow should be a reasonable walking day as we knocked nearly 5k off by doing the hill today.

Recovering from our pre-breakfast experience, we were on our way. Next up: mushrooms (non-edible), a church, cows and a donkey. Random, eh?

 

 

 

Then a long bit through a beautiful city park.

 

We climbed up a steep hill to an area of large houses with manicured lawns, interspersed with empty lots with an occasional horse.

Way up there we could see the morning’s cranes in the distance.

So we’ve seen lots of St. James, the pilgrim and Jesus and Mary as pilgrims. Entering Fene we saw what reminded us of our son’s own comedy character, the Hippiecrite, as a pilgrim.

We eventually made it to our pension. I don’t know how this place made it on the accommodation list. It’s 1k off the track, across from the port, their restaurant closed down, with no food services nearby.

Despite being a working port, it was much quieter than the city hostels we’ve stayed in. Except for the exceedingly squeaky beds. 

 

It was a bright clean room with a water view.

The bonus was a bathtub and, a rare in-room Camino find, a hairdryer. You can usually ask for one from the proprietor, so to discover one in our bathroom was an unexpected pleasure. I see you rolling your eyes, KC. 

 

We ended up walking at least 3k to find dinner and back, but it was worth it. We had a huge salad (on the menu it was a mini salad) and a veggie pizza that had tomato, pimentos, onions, white asparagus, mushrooms and artichokes. This pizza place, whose main business was delivery orders (we were the only people eating in) had decent wine. We had a 2013 rioja. 

 

Back to the port, after getting lost on the literal wrong side of the tracks, for 11:00 bedtime. Therein lies the issue with late Spanish dinner time – late bedtime.

Day 19: Camino de Santiago - Camino Inglés – Ferrol to Fene (Part 1)

 

22.65k including getting to our pension, 1k off track, and getting to and from dinner plus lost time.

 

We left before sunrise, searching for the first arrow. That sounds dramatic, but sunrise in Spain is at 8:30.

Chuck spots it. I circled it in red. See how easy it is to miss?

Being a port city there were the familiar aspects that we know from home. The cranes looked like the silhouettes of giant birds as the sun rose.

We walked along the shore to be greeted by a port police officer. Uh oh, I thought, what’s going on ahead. He asked in Spanish if we were on the Camino, then pointed the way. Then he asked for my phone…to take our picture.

We passed interesting buildings, labelled the “Tanques de tormentes.”

Our minds went to the worst. In translation it meant storm tanks. Another appropriate translation as storms can cause torment.

 

As we continued we noticed the cranes in the golden hour (an hour after sunrise or before sunset).

We walked above the beach:

What followed was an upsetting experience. We were headed to Spanish McDonald’s brekkie when  I entered a crosswalk. A woman stopped for me. I started across, but then noticed a guy in a little Audi coming up quickly behind her. I hesitated, thinking he might rear end her and send her car right into me. He did hit her and I still had to step back just in case. They both pulled over to exchange information. We waited in case they needed us as witnesses, then continued on.

 

Some of the people in Spain are appreciative of pilgrims, their purpose and contribution to the economy. Others think they are an inconvenience. I’m hoping this woman was of the first variety, but we’ll never know.

 

We made it to McDonalds shaken but unscathed, and had a Spanish tortilla (potato omelet) with tomato/olive oil spread on a toasted bun. It was unexpectedly good.

 

Here we are, seven paragraphs in and we’re only at breakfast. I think I’ll spilt this post into two. Part two tomorrow.

Today was a day of esperando. That is the Spanish word for waiting. Coincidentally it is also the word for hoping. How civilized that is, using your waiting time for hoping. 

 

It was a better day for esperando than walking as, it was raining.

 

We booked a room close to the train station intentionally, knowing transportation would be necessary to reach another Camino route.

 

What we didn’t count on were sold out trains. So we waited a couple of hours and changed our plans to combine the train and a bus to get us to Ferrol, the start of the Camino Inglés. 

 

It’s called the Inglés route because it was originally a trade route for Northern Europe, providing easy access to Galicia. In the 14th century it became a pilgrim route, providing a quick and safe way to get to Santiago. The way over the Pyrenees required a long journey with exposure to bandits.

 

We found our hotel, the Zahara, described as funky chic. 

The inclusion of earplugs in the room amenities, tells you something. 

Although right in town, with narrow roads it appeared from the noise that we’re on a truck route, plus it was garbage pickup time around 4:00am, so earplugs were appreciated.

 

For the fourth time we attempted to order chiparones (baby calamari), but no luck. It was on the menu, but not available. All four times we’ve had not-so-delicious substitutes. 

 

We figured out our hiking route. There’s not enough time to complete the entire Camino Inglés, so we agreed to skip the day with the 500 meter elevation. Phew.

18.1 K

 

We were the last to leave at 9:00am, noticing that nobody had taken advantage of 9e brekkie. The Irish group told us they were first quoted 16e! Instead we stopped at the adjacent Repsol gas station/mini mart and bought a two pack of Danone rice pudding.

 

Our strategy of leaving late allowed for a peaceful walk into Santiago, avoiding the throngs on their final day of pilgrimage.  

 

This is today’s weather report: no rain but 100% humidity. What does that look like?

We stopped in the church at Escrivatude. There have been many statues of St. James the pilgrim, along the way, but this one had Jesus the pilgrim and included a dog at his side.

We also saw Mary as a pilgrim at the pilgrim’s church in Pontevedra.

When we stopped at the first cafe/bar, there were only four others, women from Denmark. Later on I noticed this hat on the table next to us.

It belonged to a man from Ontario walking with a woman from Berlin. He told us that there were three from Edmonton just ahead of us.

 

It was a beautiful and peaceful walk, perfect for reflecting on our pilgrimage experience. 

Our last Roman road for this one.

The mushrooms were plentiful. Here’s a good example of a good sized puffball.

The last sign post pointing the way into the city. 

Someone donated their boots to the cause.

 

We made our way to the cathedral for our official arrival photo. The last two times it was covered in construction shrouding. We had our emotional moment amongst many other pilgrims experiencing the same sadness and joy.

Walking to our favourite restaurant, Casa Manolo, where we were supposed to meet our friends from South Africa, who do we run into? The Irish crew from last night. It was a lovely reunion comparing arrival stories. 

 

On to Manolo for dinner with Marietjie and Robin, now old friends.

 

C and I had the whole sole and some good dark red wine. It struck us that the 2015 and 2016 wines we are drinking are made from the grapes we tasted on our previous Caminos.

 

Back at our hotel, late at night, we made a decision regarding our next Camino route. A recommendation by the Danish Camino guide author we met, we landed on the Camino Inglés Route. Tomorrow we’ll take a train to Ferrol, along the northern coast of Spain, and hope to complete five days of walking back in the Camino Inglés into Santiago.

 

23.2k

 

Our elegant accommodation at Os Miguelinos came with a fitting breakfast.

 

We took our time, starting our walk at 10:00 a.m., the same time as a community 10k walk with at least 150 participants. 

It was ironic as we chose this route for a less populated Camino, but admirable to see another group of people with a common goal. We, all 152 of us, passed the remains of an ancient fortification built to fend off the Vikings. 

They were doing a loop, so at 5k we were on our own again in time to enjoy the peace of the estuary.

 

Then came the loooonnggg quiet road asphalt next to the railroad tracks. It was an opportunity for occasional shoulder walking to give the feet some variety: giant pine needles, weeds and millions of acorns that are currently showering down from the oaks.

We entered town to be greeted by this Camino dog of the day.

Crossing the same bridge into Padrón  as we did in 2016 we discovered it was market day. The vendors travel from town to town. It was interesting walking through, watching the hubbub, without the intention of buying a thing. Nobody dares add an ounce to their packs.

 

 

Important Camino point: plan your walking to end by 3:00pm, when Spain’s temperatures reach their height. It was a hot 5:00 before we arrived at Casa da Meixida, the other side of Padron. Same price as last night’s, close to the busy highway, the rooms nearly as beautiful, but the owner wanted an additional 9e each for breakfast. We declined.

It was Sunday, and they weren’t serving dinner. Luckily there was a restaurant 40 meters away. Not too hungry, we ordered calimari and salad. The food was adequate but the best part was meeting the table of four Irish pilgrims next to us. 

 

Tomorrow we walk into Santiago, marking the close of our journey on the Camino Portugues with the Spiritual Variante, and decisions for the next five days of walking.

 

24.1+3.25 for morning hiccups

27.35k (no wonder my feet hurt)

 

Such a nice evening last night at Hotel Restaurante Luz Da Luna, located on a strip of beach hotels and camp grounds that bustle in season. For now it was totally quiet. We may have been the only ones in the hotel and eating dinner. Again a dated, but clean room, this one with a little balcony overlooking the side garden and a bit of the beach.

 

Our stay gives me the opportunity to say what I’ve mentioned on our past Caminos: kudos to the family businesses that work so hard and go out of their way to help pilgrims. This hotel/restaurant was run by a couple our age, their son, daughter and son-in-law. Even the granddaughter, maybe 11, had her part in bringing our appetizer to the table. For 70e we had our room, our laundry washed, dried and folded (gratis), dinner with free appies, a bottle of wine, two after dinner drinks, a Diet Coke, a nice conversation in patient Spanish, and as a bonus, the mom brought us cake to share for dessert.

 

The morning presented us with two glitches:

1. The first set of arrows we followed lead us to the pilgrim alburgue, located off the Camino.
2. About 2.5 kilometres later, back on track, we receive a text from Correos, the Spanish post office, notifying us that our suitcase that was sent from Madrid for us to retrieve in Santiago, couldn’t be delivered and was being sent back to Madrid. Three blessings of modern technology saved the day: the text, the gps that showed a Correos 700mts away and Google translate. The clerk traced the suitcase and made a phone call, and hearing him say “vale” (OK) a number of times we knew all would be well.

We started the day walking along the beach at 8:30am sunrise, over the bridge into Vilanova de Arousa.

At this point on the Variante Spiritual, most pilgrims take a boat up the river to skip a day or two of walking. It is supposedly the river where the boat carrying the body of St. James. There are 17 crosses installed along the marine route. The problem is, the boat ride is not calculated in the required miles to earn your Compestela. We had the time, so we walked. 

 

Others discouraged us, saying it was along a busy road. It really wasn’t, as it wove through parks, beach areas and villages to avoid the road.

The guide books sometimes indicate unpleasant roadside walking, but they fail to mention what’s on the other side of the street, in this case a beautiful beach. And the road wasn’t busy.

 

 

The issue for us today was it was a combination of a long and mostly paved walk. And it was hot. It was one of those days where, no matter how beautiful or interesting, the end felt like a slog. We stopped at a bar 500mts from our destination to cool off. 

 

When I first spotted our destination, Os Miguelinos in Catoira, i couldn’t decide if it was a mirage or an oasis. A magnificent 200 year old house, It’s hard to believe this was in our budget. 

Along the way, each time I saw a gardenia in bloom, I stopped to smell it. It was my mother’s favourite flower and I thought of her. Just today I commented it had been awhile since I saw one, maybe the climate is changing the farther north we go. When we entered our room, there were two freshly picked gardenias on the bed.

It was an oasis. You could even pick kiwis from the bathroom window if you wanted.

 

We waited until Spanish dinner time, 9:00, and walked to what translates to the Kangeroo Bar/Restaurant. It appears, though, you can order any meat you want as long as it’s pork. We had lasagna. And a long, slow conversation with the owner. Again, we were the only ones in the dining room. The bar was hopping, though, mostly older men watching soccer. 

 

Tomorrow, the two Portuguese routes meet up again and we’ll stay on the other side of Padrón, our last night before arriving in Santiago for the finish of this route. We have to decide what happens next.

22.3k

 

Apologies for the delay, reception has been challenging, and the formatting has been affected. 

 

Guest blog post by Chuck:

We spent the night in the peace and comfort of the Mosterio on a mountainside as Li has described. We knew that by the evening we should be seaside so pretty good chance that we’d be going downhill, ie gravity would be working for us instead of against us for a change. 

 

Our morning walk took us on a path descending along a stream, aptly named the Route of Stone and Water. The tranquility was a pleasant contrast to the mass exodus of pilgrims when leaving the large cities. 

 

The stream dominated our focus as the fairly quick descent made for waterfall after waterfall after waterfall. There were occasional interludes of still water and the sound moved between a babble and the boisterous rush of the falls. 

 

Along the way were the remains of numerous stone structures and channels. Our surmise of flour mills was soon confirmed when we saw the large grinding stones.

Others were not as obvious. We later discovered them to be sawmills. Most impressive is that they were from 500 years ago!

 

Gravity fooled us again with a steep ascent, but the threat of rain subsides and the patch of blue sky grows in front of us as we make our way back down. The path remained ours alone until we neared a village where we were greeted by a couple of dogs taking their masters for a walk. 

 

Finally a glimpse of the sea and our destination for the day. 

 

Without a doubt, one of the most interesting and beautiful walks on the Camino so far. 

 

 

 

13k

 

What a magical day on the Camino. We left the parade of pilgrims to turn onto the Spiritual Variant of the Camino Portuguese Route. After leaving the hotel in Pontevedra, I saw a familiar person in the distance. “That can’t be Robin, can it?” I asked C. Sure enough we caught up with Robin and Marietjie from South Africa.

We walked three kilometres with them before turning onto our new route. 

 

This one took us up over the mountain and all the way down to the sea. 

 

It was a mushroomer’s paradise. We saw shaggies, puffballs, common field mushrooms with their pink gills and my first hedgehog, plus more that I couldn’t identify as edibles. We didn’t pick any as our suitcase is already scented with the refusing-to-dry porcini, my prized souvenir of this Camino

 

Chuck’s traditional pose in a Camino tunnel. He’s added belting out the first two words of our national anthem because tunnel acoustics are exceptional. “OH CANADA!” Doesn’t he look other worldly?

I’ll post the singing part in the future, when we have better reception.

 

We walked through the ever present eucalyptus forest, some recently harvested leaving us with a trek of aroma therapy. Similar to walking through the mint fields earlier on.

 

We stopped in the first tiny village for a coffee con leche and an “opportuni-pee,” where we met a couple from Denmark, now living in Spain. He is an author who has a series of books about the Camino, she a retired therapist who specialized in critical incident stress debriefing. We asked if he was familiar with Chuck’s cousin, also a travel author. No he didn’t but he knew his brother, Michael, the musician! 

 

Michael passed away too young from cancer. He sang at our eldest daughter’s wedding in 2006. Whenever we walk alongside a river on this Camino, C has sung his song, “By the River.” 

 

Was this meeting a coincidence or Camino magic? Her we are with the Danes. Yes, that’s a baguette in my pack.

 

We passed a house even more narrow than ours, which is 22 feet wide. This one had an exterior width of maybe 9 feet. Considering the thickness of the stone walls, the rooms must be 7 feet wide.

 

 

When we hit the waterfront it was low tide and a stream of commercial clam diggers with rakes, barrels on wheels and other shell fishing tools, headed out to work. There must have been 100 of them.

 

After 13k we took a taxi to the monastery in Armenteira, where we are staying in the convent, and we were supposed to check in by 1:30. Due to a power outage it ended up being 4:00 before we were registered by an energetic English speaking nun in a habit and running shoes. She reminded me of some of my Catholic school teachers, the ones we thought were cool. Our room in the convent:

 

We attended evening vespers: seven greying nuns, a young nun-to-be dressed in jeans,  and an ancient monk sang and prayed. At the end they invited the handful of pilgrims in attendance to come up for a blessing in our own language. It was beautiful, moved me to tears.

 

And now we’re drinking hot tea, safe and dry from the cold rain, in a 1700’s era building with 2.5 foot thick stone walls.