Days 28-29 Into the Cantabrian Mountains
Day 28
Astorga to Rabanal del Camino--13.02 miles; 238 km. to go
Astorga is chock full of history as far as Spanish towns go: Roman ruins, ancient pilgrim hospitals, and a Gaudi-designed cathedral, which is now used as a museum. Astorga is also the capital of the Maragatos, a European tribe I had never heard of. It´s thought their origins may be Berber or even Phoenician; no one knows, but they became the traditional muleteers of Spain. Their customs and dress until recent times was always distinct and their society closed. The area here and 45 villages to the west is known as the Maragateria. Since the work of the muleteers has been replaced by that of trucks, many of these little stone towns would have died if not in part from the infusion of money from pilgrims traveling through on the Camino.
Just keep following the arrows
Today´s walk slowly leads up into the mountains, but it´s a gentle climb. My favorite time of day is when I stop for breakfast in some little town that has a bar/cafe open. Today´s bar has excellent coffee and croissants and some Andy Garcia movie on that´s dubbed in Spanish. The French pilgrims are ecstatic that the croissants are just like French croissants. They walk away smiling.
Great croissants here
The famous Cowboy Bar of El Ganso
The sun blazes away and cracks of thunder lead to a downpour just as I´m check into a nice little hotel room. Rabanal del Camino is a beautiful stone village with incredibly intense flies (it must be the heat and then the storm). I can hear a bug zapper electrocute them every few minutes from my room. In the evening I carry on my own massacre so I can sleep in peace.
Day 29
Rabanal del Camino to Molinaseca--15.5 miles; 213 km. to go
Lot´s of pilgrims´landmarks on the road today. It´s a beautiful climb up through mist into the mountains. The first attraction on the way is Foncebadon, a once-abandoned town left to the winds to hollow it out, giving everything an eerie appearance--almost like a ghost town of the Old West. A few people have returned to eke out a living from the pilgrim traffic. The only "shop" in existence sells health foods and plays New Age music. It is also in Foncebadon where Shirley Maclaine in her book (and even the protagonist in a Paulo Coelho novel) had a run-in with wild, savage dogs that appeared out of the mist and charged her. Again, much linear Internet space is given over to the subject of the wild dogs, to the extent that someone could make some money selling dog dazers to pilgrims. I´ve no doubt her experience was real, but that was 10 years ago, and the only dogs around there now are asleep or dead.
Foncebadón
The second pilgrim landmark is the Cruz de Ferro. In pagan times one left small piles of rocks before mountain passes to ensure safe passage. Traditionally, each pilgrim adds a stone, preferably from their home, which casts away guilt, sin, problems, whatever. An iron cross was eventually added to keep the Catholic Church happy.
Cruz de Ferro
Today is July 25, St. James/Santiago´s day. Across from the Iron Cross, they´re setting up for a party of 100s. And sure enough, cars are piling up the mountain at breakneck speeds to celebrate the patron saint. Not far is the highest pass of the Camino at 1517 meters, or almost 4100 feet. There´s still another pass ahead in a few days´time.
Another interesting point along the road this morning is an unofficial pilgrims´refugio kept by "Tomas," who devotes his life to the care of pilgrims. There are no mattresses or amenities (I think you sleep on straw in a barn.) When officials tried to shut the place down, Tomas went on a hunger strike in front of the offices in Leon until they backed off.
Out in front of Tomas's refugio
Villages are made of slate now
Going downhill is hard, and it´s quite a slog. It´s a refugio night, and I´m sleeping in a top bunk near some rafters in sort of a chalet-style building that someone says is a former church. Today I meet pilgrims who have hitched rides, and I am appalled.
There´s even a pilgrim from India. She is in a tizzy because the hospitalero threw a sack of garbage into a can right in front of her. The impudence!! And there are flies!!! She´s from India, and she´s all worked up over the flies (and there are barely any flies here at all). She´s complaining loudly to anyone who will listen that she is going to contact the Spanish ambassador in London to report the conditions of this place.
Astorga to Rabanal del Camino--13.02 miles; 238 km. to go
Astorga is chock full of history as far as Spanish towns go: Roman ruins, ancient pilgrim hospitals, and a Gaudi-designed cathedral, which is now used as a museum. Astorga is also the capital of the Maragatos, a European tribe I had never heard of. It´s thought their origins may be Berber or even Phoenician; no one knows, but they became the traditional muleteers of Spain. Their customs and dress until recent times was always distinct and their society closed. The area here and 45 villages to the west is known as the Maragateria. Since the work of the muleteers has been replaced by that of trucks, many of these little stone towns would have died if not in part from the infusion of money from pilgrims traveling through on the Camino.
Just keep following the arrows
Today´s walk slowly leads up into the mountains, but it´s a gentle climb. My favorite time of day is when I stop for breakfast in some little town that has a bar/cafe open. Today´s bar has excellent coffee and croissants and some Andy Garcia movie on that´s dubbed in Spanish. The French pilgrims are ecstatic that the croissants are just like French croissants. They walk away smiling.
Great croissants here
The famous Cowboy Bar of El Ganso
The sun blazes away and cracks of thunder lead to a downpour just as I´m check into a nice little hotel room. Rabanal del Camino is a beautiful stone village with incredibly intense flies (it must be the heat and then the storm). I can hear a bug zapper electrocute them every few minutes from my room. In the evening I carry on my own massacre so I can sleep in peace.
Day 29
Rabanal del Camino to Molinaseca--15.5 miles; 213 km. to go
Lot´s of pilgrims´landmarks on the road today. It´s a beautiful climb up through mist into the mountains. The first attraction on the way is Foncebadon, a once-abandoned town left to the winds to hollow it out, giving everything an eerie appearance--almost like a ghost town of the Old West. A few people have returned to eke out a living from the pilgrim traffic. The only "shop" in existence sells health foods and plays New Age music. It is also in Foncebadon where Shirley Maclaine in her book (and even the protagonist in a Paulo Coelho novel) had a run-in with wild, savage dogs that appeared out of the mist and charged her. Again, much linear Internet space is given over to the subject of the wild dogs, to the extent that someone could make some money selling dog dazers to pilgrims. I´ve no doubt her experience was real, but that was 10 years ago, and the only dogs around there now are asleep or dead.
Foncebadón
The second pilgrim landmark is the Cruz de Ferro. In pagan times one left small piles of rocks before mountain passes to ensure safe passage. Traditionally, each pilgrim adds a stone, preferably from their home, which casts away guilt, sin, problems, whatever. An iron cross was eventually added to keep the Catholic Church happy.
Cruz de Ferro
Today is July 25, St. James/Santiago´s day. Across from the Iron Cross, they´re setting up for a party of 100s. And sure enough, cars are piling up the mountain at breakneck speeds to celebrate the patron saint. Not far is the highest pass of the Camino at 1517 meters, or almost 4100 feet. There´s still another pass ahead in a few days´time.
Another interesting point along the road this morning is an unofficial pilgrims´refugio kept by "Tomas," who devotes his life to the care of pilgrims. There are no mattresses or amenities (I think you sleep on straw in a barn.) When officials tried to shut the place down, Tomas went on a hunger strike in front of the offices in Leon until they backed off.
Out in front of Tomas's refugio
Villages are made of slate now
Going downhill is hard, and it´s quite a slog. It´s a refugio night, and I´m sleeping in a top bunk near some rafters in sort of a chalet-style building that someone says is a former church. Today I meet pilgrims who have hitched rides, and I am appalled.
There´s even a pilgrim from India. She is in a tizzy because the hospitalero threw a sack of garbage into a can right in front of her. The impudence!! And there are flies!!! She´s from India, and she´s all worked up over the flies (and there are barely any flies here at all). She´s complaining loudly to anyone who will listen that she is going to contact the Spanish ambassador in London to report the conditions of this place.
posted by Pam on the road at 2:48 AM
1 Comments:
mis ojos,
Congrats on making it up to Day 30! I saw James' post from Japan and thought I would write you from an earlier date. It's so nice to be able to virtually travel back and forth in time on your blog. Besides, I liked the story of the Indian lady appalled by the flies and the Tomas' refugio with hay (or, was it straw?) MI esposo still thinks this walk is going to make a Catholic of you---I keep trying to tell him you are catholic (small "c") in your taste and adventures, but it seems to elude him. He's waiting for your epiphany and won't be at all surprised if we next get a posting from the steps of Vatican City. Maybe you'll become a Swiss guard?
I do love your stories, but could have lived without the cellulite story---I bet you're getting svelte and fit--croissants and cheese and all. muchas besos, tu amiga querida
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