Day 26, 11 May 2013, Ferreiros to Palas de Rei, 33 km

I was very glad to leave the albergue this morning. Definitely not a shining example, although the kind hospitalera found me a bottom bunk to sleep in. Bottom bunks are obviously easier to get into, but I am always a bit anxious about what might fall down onto me from the mattress very close above my head when the occupant of the upper bunk moves about during the night – actually it is much better not to think about it.

Anyway we left to a lovely bright day, although a little chilly. We walked through more delightful hamlets and actually saw a pair of carriage wheels attached to an axle, and then (even more exciting!) I saw a pair of wheels attached to a cart. Now I have the complete story – very satisfying.

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We reached Portomarin after 9 km, a good sized town with a lovely approach over a wide river, but we were disappointed in our search for breakfast. After trying about six cafes for something warm with no success, we gave up and bought supplies from the supermarket and ate bread and jamon and some fresh apricots in the church square.

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When we departed the town we climbed through a pretty wooded area, I was surprised at the lack of other pilgrims on the trail, and it seemed that my fears of being inundated with day trippers was not to be proven.

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Here is a picture that will be of interest to Helen and David (and Blossom), but probably not anyone else (possibly not even them!)

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Also possibly of interest to horse owners – the farmers hereabouts have been making the first cut of their grain the last couple of days, so assuming this will have been done a bit sooner in Granada province, perhaps there is a chance that we can buy some decent hay for our horses soon.

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The camino continued on and off road, but was generally very pleasant. Mid way through the day we were passed by a group of gaggling youngsters, one without so much as a daypack and all in lovely shiny new trainers.

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We stopped for a break after another 8 km and I downed a reviving beer before continuing through the beautiful countryside. This is definitely cattle territory – all the hamlets and villages have dairy farms and all are full of the resultant muck to pick our way through.

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Just before our last planned rest for the day we come across a couple of guys at a picnic spot, washing up serving dishes with some lovely looking food on the table. I first thought that they were some of the kind people who provide for tired and hungry pilgrims along the route. And they were actually, but not the normal kind. They are tour guides, catering for a party of ten English speaking ‘pilgrims’, who have just been fed and are now walking their final stage whilst the guys clear up behind them. They invite us to help ourselves to the left over food, a fruit salad and chocolates and olives and cheese. Yum. When I have eaten as much as I can they suggest I pack up the rest and take it with me as it will otherwise only be thrown out. I happily oblige and am careful not to lean back on my pack for the rest of the journey. This guy reckons that he has guided the camino (not in its entirety) seventy or eighty times in the last 12 years.

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After a quick break a bit further on we tackle the last 8 km of the day, racking up 33 km.

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As we enter the town where we are staying I saw this elderly couple sewing seeds by hand in an enormous ploughed field. Incredible! Goodness knows how long it will take to complete the task.

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Our carefully chosen albergue is spacious, clean, with lovely hot and powerful showers. It doesn’t help me sleep though and although I was in bed before 10 pm I woke regularly throughout the night, which is pretty usual. It has given me the opportunity to finish this post and get it off bright and early in the morning though. I shall return to my bed now and try and grab another hour’s sleep.

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Day 25, 10 May 2013, Triacastela to Ferreiros, 32.5 km

We had a good hearty meal last night of lentil and vegetable soup (I could easily have stood the spoon upright in the middle of the bowl, it was so thick) followed by home made tiramisu. We were joined at the supper table by our hosts, two Dutch ladies who hadn’t actually started their camino yet, a man from South Korea who had walked 40 km that day, and a couple who I think were the parents of our Dutch host. It was very jolly and there was much good conversation.

And although we are now in Galicia, the region that is renowned for lots of rain, today starts dry with just a little cloud, which soon disperses, leaving a blue sky and some low lying mist. It was pleasant walking albeit along steep tracks, but there were noticeably more people walking today. We are now very close to the town of Sarria which marks the shortest distance that can be walked In order to claim a Compostela in Santiago, Many people start walking at this point and clog up the camino and the albergues. Hopefully it will not be as bad as I have heard – time will tell.

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We pass a sign that indicates that some people have more of a problem with tourist ‘pilgrims’ than we do.

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I don’t know what this is – I saw some atop rustic gate posts yesterday, and there were two of them hung on a wall today. Any ideas?

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Just asked the barman, and it is an ancient carriage wheel.

We stop for breakfast at about 10am and I order bacon and eggs, which are cooked just how I like them. Ella orders an egg and bacon bocadillo which is served in very crusty bread. And then disaster strikes. Ella breaks her front tooth on the bread. She had an accident at brownies when she was about ten or eleven and lost half a tooth and has consequently had a cap since then. She recovered the broken section hoping that it can be stuck back into place without too much trouble and we walk on to Sarria.

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We are currently sitting in the dental clinic waiting for her to be seen. I have to say, you would have thought that her leg had fallen off to justify the drama caused, rather than a sliver of tooth. Hopefully it will be sorted within the hour and we can continue on our way. Watch this space…..

…….and happily, after a wait of an hour or so, Ella was seen by the dentist in what should have been his lunch break. He spent not far off 30 minutes preparing and applying the piece of cap and I was astounded when he charged 40-€. He could have charged her practically anything. What excellent value.

I feel exhausted after the visit to the dentist, not really sure why, just all the drama I suppose. Anyway Ella is now back to normal and we decide to sit in the sunshine and I take off my boots and drink a beer to revive my spirits. It seems to have worked because when we set off again I feel refreshed and my feet do not hurt any more.

I have actually realised only today that I have a low point in the late morning to early afternoon. Once I pull myself through this, I am fit for a few more kilometres.

By the time we leave the busy town, most of the pilgrims who are walking through have already passed by, and there are not too many walkers about.

The walk beyond the town, once we pass by the elevated motorway and railway line, is very pretty, on a nice soft dirt track through a chestnut wood. We come across an Italian guy in the woods offering refreshments for a donation and stop to talk for a while.

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The walk is lovely with plenty of water running by.

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We eventually emerge from the woods into stunning countryside, very reminiscent of good old English green and pleasant lands. Real farming country with lots of cows and their resulting trade marks about. We walk through lots of very pretty hamlets with just a farm and couple of houses. It is delightful.

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Most of the properties we passed had one of these constructions in the grounds – very narrow and long and raised above the ground. Again,I have absolutely no idea what their purpose is.

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(Just asked,the barman again and have been told that it is an,’hórreo’ a store for corn on the cob, typical to the area of northern Galicia and Asturias)

We also came across this lizard, which was probably dead, but looked very striking.

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We walked, and walked. The sun was lovely and warm, but there was a cooling breeze. I had my legs out for the first time in a couple of weeks, just to improve on my wonderful suntan marks around my ankles and just above my knees. Very attractive!

Since we have been in Galicia there have been markers every 500 metres indicating how far remains to reach Santiago. Towards the end of our day’s walk we came across the 100 km marker, meaning that we have now walked virtually 700 km.

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Since deciding to embark upon this walk It never once occurred to me that I would not be able to complete it. But every day I am a bit amazed at just what we have achieved, just like hundreds of other very ordinary people.

Today I took no painkillers and had no tape on my feet. Getting stronger every day, although I am tired and achey this evening. Because of our long stop in Sarria, we didn’t arrive at our destination until about 7pm, having walked at least 13 km without a break. There are two albergues in this tiny hamlet, one new posh one, already full when we arrived, and one crappy old one that we got the last two beds in. Horrid showers – yuk. We must do better tomorrow.

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Day 24, 9 May 2013, La Laguna de Castilla to Triacastela, 26 km

I awoke with no aches today. My knee had behaved yesterday but my right hip was a bit uncomfortable. Nothing a couple of painkillers could not deal with. Today though I decided to go drug-free. In addition I had not taped my feet for a couple of days. I have a couple of small blisters but not requiring any attention.

It was raining steadily when we left the albergue and we immediately met with the final section of our big climb. A short while after leaving we came across the marker showing that we were leaving Castilla y Leon and entering Galicia. We have been walking through Castilla y Leon for 15 days, since leaving La Rioja on day 9.

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At the top of the hill we came to the beautiful stone village of O Cebreiro, which we thought was the highest point of the camino. But guess what? Yes, that’s right, we were still climbing when we left the village.

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I think the scene below was taken pretty much from the highest point (…….so far!)

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We passed through some fabulous hamlets again today. The roof slates in this pic are typical of the area and very pretty.

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And then the mist came down, and then it got thicker.

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But eventually it brightened and stopped raining but by now the path as extremely muddy and we had to wade through deep sludgy puddles. I was convinced my socks were wet which makes for perfect blister making conditions. So I stopped to change my socks, only to find that they were perfectly dry. Most peculiar.

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I had to pop a painkiller towards the end of the walk as my knee clicked on a downhill stretch. But generally I have performed well enough.

We passed through the village of Triacastela and continued for a further 1.5 km to reach an albergue that had been recommended to us by Peter, our Dutch friend with whom we walked for the first few days. It is a beautiful stone building lovingly restored by the Italian/Dutch couple who opened it only a few weeks ago. There are only ten beds in a huge room. There should be no problems with the room getting stuffy at night because there is an abundance of natural air conditioning around the windows and door! It is situated in a chestnut wood with ancient trees, this one estimated to be 800 years old.

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Our hosts provide a communal dinner from organic ingredients for which we are invited to make a donation. I am currently sitting in front of the pretty wood burner trying to warm up as it is rather chilly in here. I shall have to brave the shower in a moment – we are asked to use the provided ecological products. Apparently the shower is lovely and hot, but I will have to pile on the clothes when I get out.

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Day 23, 8 May 2013, Villafranca del Bierzo to La Laguna de Castilla, 26 km

The day started badly. Firstly it was raining, only softly, but enough to warrant a raincoat. Ella was suffering badly with her poorly feet and the going was extremely slow. We set off on the road, alongside a river and after a couple of kilometres came to a very long tunnel running through the mountain. We trudged through, keeping close to the edge -it was the low point of the camino, it felt dangerous even though there was very little traffic. We finally emerged and came across a bus stop where we saw a group of ‘so called’ pilgrims waiting to be transported to the next stop on the camino. We crossed a bridge over a river and it dawned on us that we hadn’t seen any camino signs for a long time. We consulted our guide and realised that we had made a mistake, we turned tail and had to walk back through that awful tunnel and then turned onto a track that ran alongside a river. We kept looking at the mud on the track to see if we could see any footprints and eventually saw some pilgrims on the other side of the river. We retraced our steps and finally found the signs that we missed about 3 km earlier.

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The walk was entirely on the road, mostly alongside a main road, that wasn’t actually very busy, and sometimes taking a diversion through a village. All day we were within sight and hearing of a fast flowing river, which helped to lift the spirits. But is wasn’t a very inspiring walk.

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We stopped for breakfast in a charming bar and ordered omelette rolls that were sufficient for breakfast and lunch and then continued along the roadside for a total of 21 km at which point we started our climb, initially on a country road and then on a mud and rock track. This was a real climb, rising 500 metres in 5.5 km, but once agin I found that the change of scenery and improved weather lifted my spirits.

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The mountainsides were coloured a wonderful pinky mauve -with vast areas swathed in pink gorse. At times we had to share the path with some four legged friends, but they were very well behaved – I hope they thought the same about us!

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Although the climb was extremely severe and my lungs were complaining at every step I found that I could keep going with relatively few breaks, on and on and up and up for over 5 km until we finally reached the place were stopping for the day, leaving a further 2.5 km climb to reach the peak in the morning.

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We were greeted by the American guys we shared a room with the night before and discovered we were to share with them again tonight, together with a couple of cyclists (they didn’t say much so I couldn’t ascertain where they were from). We had a bathroom between the six of us again, although I have decided I much prefer the facilities to be away from the dormitory.

We ate a good dinner with the yanks, Bill and Julian. They hardly knew each other before starting their camino. They are great company – and they don’t snore – great room mates.

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Including our early morning diversion we probably covered 30 km today. I could have gone further. I am a great deal stronger after three weeks of walking. I never ache at the end of the day and my backpack seems lighter with every day that passes.

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Day 22, 7 May 2013, Molinaseca to Villafranca del Bierzo, 31 km

Today started grey and stayed that way. The first section of the walk was to the large town of Ponferrada, 8 km from our start point and all on road, albeit on very quiet roads with almost no traffic. But it was not a charming walk, although we walked through a charming village.

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We stopped at Ponferrada for breakfast and ordered bacon and eggs, which arrived cooked perfectly and was accompanied by two glasses of zumo natural. Delicious!

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It wasn’t a very nice walk out of the town through commercial and then farming areas and I was quite tired. This may have been due to the fact that I had very little sleep last night. It was very late by the time I had finished the day’s blog and posted it and I didn’t get to bed until 11:30 pm and was then not sufficiently relaxed to sleep. I hardly slept at all.

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I was beginning to feel that I had been a bit cocky yesterday, boasting about how well I walked and now I was getting my come-uppance. However I plodded on for a total of 23 km before we stopped again in a bar and had a beer and crisps.

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There remained 8 km to walk and when we set off we soon came to very different scenery. Field after field of vines and a good track to walk on. There are also a lot of cherry orchards in this area, with fruit forming, although a long way off being ready to eat. Which reminds me that I really want to go to the Alfarnate cherry fiesta this year, which should be some time at the end of June. The cherries we get in Cómpeta are so delicious that we eat mounds of them every year.

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It seemed bliss after the start of the day and my spirits lifted as I took in the surroundings. I plugged into some good music and strode on, eventually passing everyone in sight – except of course for Ella – but then I was stopping to take photos.

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The last 8 km flew by and we arrived in the town of Villafranca del Bierzo, a very pretty sizeable place. We have reserved beds in an albergue and when we are taken to our room we find we are sharing with two guys from the States and a lovely couple from Aus and have a bathroom just for us with a power shower. The most difficult thing I have done today is turn off the shower after a wonderful ten minutes of luxury.

So, now I don’t know if I am superwoman who had an bad start to the day, or if I am truly affected by my surroundings. Maybe it will take a few more days to find out!

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Day 21 extra, Cruz de Ferro

This was an important day for me – crucial to my camino.

The Iron Cross is where pilgrims have traditionally left a stone from their homeland or one picked up along their camino. But more recently it has become a place where mementos can be left to celebrate the life of loved ones now departed.

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I had prepared two separate items to leave at the cross. One for myself, and one for my partner David.

David’s son Charles died 12 years ago at the age of 28 (before we met). It was a great shock and at the time David felt he had to be strong for his wife and daughter and consequently didn’t allow himself much emotion. In more recent years he has been able to grieve more readily and consequently is more able to focus on the good times that he shared with his beloved son. David chose his favourite photo of Charles to be left at the Iron Cross. I found a beautiful orchid enroute and tied this, with the photo to a stone and placed it at the foot of the cross.

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I didn’t have a ribbon to tie around the stone so used what was available – a shoelace. I wanted this to represent all those of us who have lost someone we love. Most especially for my very good friend from Cómpeta who unexpectedly lost her mother whilst I have been walking. Whatever age a child is when they loose their parents, it can be devastating and it takes a long time to come to terms with the loss. And I can only imagine how devastating it must be for a parent to lose a child.

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The second item I brought to the Cruz de Ferro was an iris bulb. My parents dug up a clump of irises for me from their garden probably 25 years ago. I have transferred these bulbs to the garden of every house I have lived in since then, which must be at least four properties. Every time they bloom I think of my parents. So I dug up a bulb from the clump that I smuggled in my suitcase from Bristol to Cómpeta five years ago. It was looking a bit bedraggled by the time I pulled it out of my backpack after three weeks, and I found a stick to scratch up some earth and plant it at the edge of the pile of stones at the foot of the Iron Cross.

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I would like to return in a few years to see if the iris has grown, which I am confident it will. I don’t feel guilty about importing a foreign species because I have seen irises growing wild here, as they do in the mountains around Cómpeta.

I have been thinking a lot about how lucky I am to have such a great bunch of friends. Thanks to all who have taken the time to post comments and to everyone who is willing us on. I really appreciate it. xxx

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Day 21, 6 May 2013, Santa Catalina de Samoza to Molinaseca, 37 km

Today I started walking alone. I wanted to get away, but Ella was still in the bathroom and in no rush, so I told her to catch me up.

The sun was rising as I left the village, it was beautiful.

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The walk started along a level sand path with the sunrise behind me, scrub land to the right and the ominous looking snow covered mountains to the left.

After 4 km I reached the village of El Ganso where we had intended to stay last night, and by the time I had ordered a coffee and kit-kat for breakfast, Ella walked through the door. It is another beautiful village with ancient buildings.

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On leaving this village the track began to climb, we passed a fence where people had woven sticks to form crosses – someone had even used a pair of socks!

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At the next village of Rabanal del Camino (another fabulous place) we popped into the shop but there was nothing very inspiring although I noticed they sold knee supports, so bought another one so I could support both legs. A few yards up the road we came across a stall full of ceramic camino related knick-knacks and we selected a couple of thin discs with the shell sign and the year 2013 impressed upon them and put in a couple of euros.

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We continued a steep climb up a rough sand and mud path, having to pick our way through very wet, deep mud at times, and after walking virtually 20 km from our start point we finally reached ‘El Cruz del Ferro’, the Iron Cross.

My guide describes it thus:

Where the cross is now located is thought to have originally been an altar built to the Roman god Mercury, whereas some stories say that it is where the Celts worshiped, either way the origins were pagan. The cross is believed to have been placed here in the 11th century by Gaucelmo.
Traditionally pilgrims have left a rock here, whether picked up along their journey or brought all the way from their homeland. Some of the rocks that have been left here contain little messages to loved ones or the name of the pilgrim’s home town. In the holy year of 1982 the little Ermita de Santiago, that you see close by, was built. There is also now a huge sundial on the floor where you provide the shadow in order to tell the time
…….

I will make a separate post specifically relating to the Cruz del Ferro.

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The track dipped and then climbed again and was swathed on either side by beautiful pink shrubs

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At the village of Manjarin someone had mended the roof in a very creative way

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We then started the descent proper and came across William the American we have met on several occasions. After coming across another unmanned stall of goodies for pilgrims we eventually reached the village of El Acebo we stopped for lunch and enjoyed the best meal we have had for many days.

Fortified for the rest of our journey we continued down the very steep track formed mainly of rock and as it had started to rain we had to be extremely careful not to slip.

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So far the day’s walk had been good, we had already covered 30 km and I didn’t feel tired at all. It had rained softly but steadily for a few hours and we were all dripping wet.

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But somehow my spirits soared, the walk turned into magic. The track, although still difficult was lined with white broom and all manner of wild flowers, it was stunning and beautiful.

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We negotiated our way around a herd of sheep that were using the track and continued through another fabulous ancient village until we reached the town of Molinaseca. I have run out of words to describe how wonderful these villages have been today, but magical sums it up pretty well.

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We are staying in an albergue where the dormitories have bunks but they are spaced well apart with enough room to hold a disco in the middle of the room. Luxury after the last two nights of feeling like sardines squashed into a tin.

Today we walked a total of 37 km. I felt good all the way through, and absolutely fine at the end. I also felt good at the end of yesterday’s walk.

The day before yesterday I was worried that I was finding the walking really hard. I never doubted that I would continue to the end but I was really finding it difficult. I don’t know whether I have crossed a bridge and have become stronger or if this is just a temporary surge of energy and strength. I am assuming that I will continue to be stronger and am very positive about the coming days of our camino.

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Day 20, 5 May 2013, Hospital de Órbigo to Santa Catalina de Samoza, 25 km

This morning was bright and not too cold. We walked across country through farmland (with cows) to the next village.

We came across an Irish woman who had been staying in the same albergue as us for a couple of nights walking in the opposite direction. The poor woman had left her phone at the hostel and had to retrace her initial 3 km in order to reclaim it. That would have made a very long day for her. She and two friends are walking the camino in stages, over three years. All three of them apply full make up before leaving in the morning and are still amongst the first to leave. I have applied a bit of eye liner on two or three occasions in the evening and thought I was doing well!

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After a while we came to a most peculiar monument, looking more like a Samuri warrior than a peaceful pilgrim.

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No roads to walk on this morning, and the tracks varied between lovely soft sand, deeply rutted dried mud, and worst of all large loose pebbles (not so different from hiking over Chessel beach).

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We stopped for some breakfast from our backpack supplies after a couple of hours.

Not much further on we came to the ‘House of The Gods’ which is a market type stall, loaded with food and drink that passing pilgrims can help themselves to. It is run by a spanish guy called David, who had walked the camino and wants to give something back. He lives in a shelter alongside the track in the middle of nowhere and provides food for passing strangers. What a star! We helped ourselves to some hot water and chatted to some other pilgrims before making a donation and returning to the track.

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Three hours into our day’s walk we came to a point where we could look down over the city of Astorga.

The approach wasn’t as tedious as into Burgos and Leon (and there weren’t any buses running from the track) but the city itself is very pretty with many interesting buildings, including this fabulous Palacio Episcopal designed by Gaudi.

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The cathedral and plaza mayor were very impressive. We stopped at a farmacia to restock our blister equipment and I bought a knee brace in anticipation of our awful descent tomorrow.

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We were tempted to visit the chocolate museum. Astorga is apparently famous for its artisan chocolate. I will have to do some personal research and make a report at a later date.

I overheard that it is Mother’s Day today in Spain. I told Ella that she had to be nice to me and her response was “why”………. Say no more. We came across a marching band in the city, mostly consisting of children and I presume celebrating mother’s day.

As we were leaving the city and entering a village on the outskirts we came across a religious procession of Jesus and Mary having a day out accompanied by the biggest flags I have ever seen.

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We walked a further 9 km beyond Astorga, with snow covered mountains looming ever nearer and decided to stay in the absolutely delightful village of Santa Catalina de Samoza. The whole village is either very ancient and built entirely of stone (95%) or more recent but built to look ancient (5%). Although the weather was a bit dull by now, I couldn’t resist taking loads of photos.

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We had intended to walk a further five kilometres today and I was totally up for it, but the weather seemed to be changing when we arrived here and the next village only had 20 beds with no guarantees of us finding accommodation, so we decided to stay put at 25 km. I stuck with my own pace today, not trying to keep up with Ella, and took breaks every couple of hours. It worked well and I felt reasonably strong at the end of the day. Ella didn’t appreciate it much, but hey, it was Mother’s Day, who cares what the kids think!

We are now coming across lots of people who we have met and talked with previously. William and Jonathan from the USA (not walking together), and a German guy we met on day one in particular, although quite a few pilgrims have opted to stay overnight in Astorga. It all depends on time scales and stamina.

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Day 19, 4 May 2013, Virgen del Camino to Hospital de Órbigo, 27 km

It was much warmer today when we set off, a bit earlier than recently. No need to put on my jacket. The day was quite hazy, but with a clear pale blue sky.

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We had options – either a track following a busy road to our destination or a slightly longer route over tracks and on quiet roads. We opted for the second, and got it right this time.

We started on a track through scrub land, then continued on a road over a motorway, back onto a track through scrub and cultivated land, and to a pretty village with some benches in the sunshine where we stopped for a bite of beakfast from our supplies. I have decided that today I will take pics of the ugly as well as the good, to better illustrate the landscape we are walking through.

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Then there was a long stretch on a country road – there were lots of storks around, nesting, walking through the pasture and flying.

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It seemed that every tractor in the area was out and working this morning.

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We passed through another village and then followed a railway track for quite a way.

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There are a lot of water towers in this area, presumably because it is so flat. Most of them are very utilitarian but this one was pretty.

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There are also canals carrying water to the gullies that surround the fields.

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During the day’s walk we passed lots more of these hobbit houses, most seemed to have been deserted, we went close to have a look and found that from the entrance very steep stairs led to what appeared to be a spacious area below. They are very odd and we can’t work them out. I have looked on the Internet but can’t find any information about them.

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We finally reached our destination of Hospital de Órbiga, a good sized town with some interesting architecture but with no atmosphere whatsoever.

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The albergue is ok. Two dormitories, there are 22 beds in ours, over 11 bunks. We had reserved so fortunately have lower bunks. They are very close together with barely room to move between the beds. The shower cubicles, wc’s and wash basins are on an open landing between the dormitories which give absolutely no privacy whatsoever. They are clean and function well but I hate the fact that it is all so open.

Today was quite hard on my feet. Walking on asphalt seems to draw your feet through the soles of your boots. Now that we don’t have the discipline of walking with Søren, we are not stopping to rest regularly. We left this morning at 7:30am and arrived at the albergue at about 2:30pm, we took three breaks totalling 1hr 10mins, so were walking solidly at a fast pace for 5hrs and 50 mins. Ella doesn’t like to stop because she finds it hard and painful to get going again, but I really benefit from a short stop at regular intervals. Ella’s feet are getting a bit better now so perhaps I can persuade her to rest more regularly in future.

As far as the terrain goes, we have had more than a week of fairly level walking, but we start to face steep inclines again as from tomorrow, working our way towards the highest point of the camino the following day, and then a tremendous descent after reaching the peak. I am really not looking forward to this because it will be very hard on my knees. I have significant swelling and pain in my right knee which is triggered by walking downhill, amongst other things. I have already had to restock with ibuprofen which controls the pain quite well.

I think this is quite normal procedure amongst the pilgrims of a certain age, whose knees have already taken a lifetime of abuse.

The various guide books, maps and other information we found have stated a distance for today’s walk of between 25 and 30 km, so I have opted for middle ground and stated 27, although to be honest it felt more like 30!

We have now walked over 500 km. If we make it to Finisterre we will be walking virtually 400 km more. In this one town alone, we have seen three signs each stating three different distances to Santiago, but all are under 300 km.

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Day 18, 3 May 2013, Puente Villarente to Virgen del Camino, 22 km

Another late start this morning. No one in our dormitory got up until about 7:30 am which is very late. I was already up but was able to take my time to pack up and get started. The forecast said it would be -3 degrees when we left at 8:15 am but it was not that cold. There was a blue sky, no clouds and no breeze.

On the way out of the village we saw this pretty hermitage complete with stork’s nest and stork in residence.

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Although the conditions were good the walk was not very inspiring today, into León through suburbs, industrial estates, commercial areas and finally into the city centre, which was beautiful. And then back through commercial areas, industrial estates, suburbs and finally to the village where we are staying tonight.

I particularly loved this Gaudi building.

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Of course the city centre was very impressive but it was a long slog to get there and then back out again, however nothing like as bad as it had been in Burgos.

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On the outskirts there was an interesting selection of hobbit houses – we saw one a few days ago, but there were a dozen or so in this area, just built into the hillside – not in an area of rock. Very strange, but cute.

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We reached the village of Virgen del Camino and found the albergue which is in a very peculiar position amongst institutional type buildings, but is sparkly clean with good facilities, lovely lounging area with library, adequate kitchen, and garden – all for six euros.

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As today’s walk was quite short we arrived early and after shower and laundry duties we walked back into the village to a bar where we asked for two wines and were given a plate full of delicious tapas, quite sufficient for lunch, at no charge, just two euros for the wine. Although the bar was at the side of a busy road, it was in the sunshine, so we stayed a while (we had to wait for the shop to open so we could buy some food for dinner). When the sun disappeared over the rooftops we chased it down a side street where we found another couple of hours of sunshine and more free tapas.

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We were joined by a Belgian guy called Derk, who we met at yesterday’s albergue and Ella invited him to share her home cooked supper. I have decided to do my own thing for food; not because I do not appreciate Ella’s cooking, but because I just want something really simple, so I have bought lots of fruit and some bread, jamon and goat’s cheese – my idea of heaven after all those heavy and excessive pilgrim’s meals.

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Derk and William washing up after Ella’s dinner.

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Day 17, Calzadilla de Los Hermanillos to Puente Villarente, 32 km

Last night our host kept us entertained with his antics, and he spoke to Rosie and Mikey when I was skyping them, much to their bemusement. We had a good dinner with lots of choice and again asked for my left-over meat to be made into a sandwich for the next day’s journey. Having blown the budget on a posh room I didn’t want to waste anything!

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It was another lovely bright morning with lots of interesting cloud formations. We are now crossing the meseta, a completely flat region that stretches for miles in all directions.

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Once we left the village travelling on a sand track we came across nothing but scenery for the next 26 km, until we reached the town of Mansilla de la Mulas. It was a hard slog with no break for a rest. But we stopped for lunch in the town, although we chose the wrong cafe, as I didn’t fancy the variety of offal that was on offer for tapas and settled for a small mixed salad.

We had a further 6 km to reach our target of Villarente del Puente which was all alongside a busy road, but we put our heads down against the growing head wind and reached it in good time.

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When we arrived the hospitalera told me I would have to sleep in an upper bunk, so dutifully started arranging my stuff on the top deck. But she must have had a change of heart and returned to the dormitory and told me we could move to the room next door and take a lower bunk. I quickly shifted my stuff before she could change her mind.

So I have now showered, done a bit of hand washing and hung it out in the garden and am waiting for supper to be served
at 7:00 pm.

During our travels we have seen a lot of copses, planted in very strict formation, and am wondering what their purpose is. Any ideas?

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Day 16, San Nicolás del Real Camino to Calzadilla de Los Hermanillos, 20 km

Last night supper was served in front of the roaring fire and we asked for our left over chicken to be made into sandwiches for breakfast. It was a lovely warm evening with very friendly hosts in a particularly nice albergue with only four others staying. We were allocated a sleeping cubicle with four beds, all to ourselves. It was warm and private and I slept until gone 7:00 am, what bliss!

In the morning I helped Ella tend to her rotting feet and we didn’t emerge from the albergue until after 8:30 am, and slotted into the stream of passing pilgrims (much like the lonely caterpillar that I had ejected from the procession during my training walk).

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Ella had a very slow start and many people passed us, which is very unusual. Normally we pass everyone in sight. It was a beautiful morning, with blue sky and sunshine, the first time for many days. I said to Ella that we had had one day of hail and snow, two days of howling wind and one day of pouring rain. She replied that in other words 25% of our journey had been rubbish weather (actually those weren’t her exact words, but I wouldn’t want to offend anyone by repeating what she said). I responded that rather 75% of our journey had been glorious, and sang her the first verse of ‘always look on the bright side of life’ dada, dada……….

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It was so delightful after our days of grey that I launched into a chorus of ‘Oh what a beautiful morning’ (only the first verse because that is all I know), and immediately realised that I was once again imitating my Dad.

Just before we reached the town of Sahagún we came across a pretty church and a few metres further on discovered that we were at the official half way point of the camino (from the spanish starting point of Roncesvalles, 27 km after our start in St Jean Pied de Port).

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After walking a further 50 metres or so I thought that we should have taken photos of ourselves this historic point of our journey, but neither of us could be bothered to walk back to the monument so we just posed where we stood

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The town of Sahagún was very interesting with many attractive albergues

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On leaving the town we had to make a choice of path, either passing through a variety of villages or taking a very lonely route with no sign of human life for miles. We meant to take the first, but actually took the second. It was a long walk over a slightly muddy sand path through cultivated and scrub land where we only saw two other pilgrims during a couple of hours, before finally reaching the village of Calzadillos de Los Hermanillos where I decided I had had enough for the day and called a halt to proceedings.

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We were told by other pilgrims that the municipal albergue was freezing and unattractive so I decided it was time we stayed in a hotel, so here we are sitting in a comfy lounge with a roaring wood stove, a jovial host, a large private bedroom with ensuite and a rather higher charge than the normal 5-€ to 8-€ fee at the albergues.

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My old Dad

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Having told you about my Mum, in the interest of gender equality I think I should tell you a little about my old Dad. He was a quiet man – “anything for an easy life” sort of chap. To be honest he was a bit hen-pecked, but would stand up for himself when he could be bothered. My parents did bicker a lot, but there was no doubt that they were devoted to each other.

Their relationship started in a novel way (and I am sure there could be a novel in there somewhere).

Mum became pregnant following a relationship with a soldier in 1947. I don’t know the details, but I believe he was Canadian and returned to his wife and family, probably not knowing the dilemma he left behind. Mum would have been twenty-two and had brought disgrace upon the family. She was not allowed to have the baby (my sister) at home and was forced to put her with foster parents. Mum was devastated not to be able to look after her adored baby full time and set about working very hard so that she could save enough money to leave the family home and rent somewhere where she could care for her child. In March 1949, when my sister was eleven months old Mum had saved enough to put her plan into action. She advertised in a local paper seeking accommodation for mother and child stating that she was widowed because there was such a huge stigma attached to unmarried mothers.

My father answered her advert. I had always known that their relationship started this way, but it was not until after my father’s death (six months after my mother died) when my brother and I were sorting through the contents of their house that I discovered most of the letters had been kept, tied in the inevitable ribbon.

The first letter that my father wrote in response to the advert was missing and my Mum’s reply was somewhat curt, suggesting that something in his letter was deemed inappropriate. But my Dad persisted and was so eloquent in his writing, as I had never known him to be in later life. I always knew my mother was a mistress of the English language but my Dad was a man of few words. I was amazed at his writing all those years ago.

They had a lot in common. Both were politically minded, of a socialist leaning. My Mum was a keen amateur dramatist and Dad was a youth worker for the Cooperative society, overseeing many youth groups in London.

Mum found lodgings with a kind landlady who could look after my sister whilst she went to work. Meanwhile Dad persisted in his letter writing and finally engineered a first meeting with Mum and baby around about the time of her first birthday on 18 April. They fell in love during that first meeting. They were married on 2 June 1949, just six weeks after meeting. Life was not easy, money was tight, but they lived happily together for fifty seven years, bringing up their family that grew to include my brother and me.

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They were good hard-working people. Politically active and great believers in a better life for all. They supported each other absolutely.

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When my Mum died in 2006, Dad had been suffering from vascular dementia for a while. His short term memory was shot, probably due to his daily 40+ nicotine habit. He found it difficult to understand that Mum had died and clung on to a photo of her.

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Just after mum died my house sale completed and I moved to a small property that Dad couldn’t have coped with, due to the stairs. I think he could have been happy in an old people’s home – he loved chatting to other old codgers about nothing in particular. But my brother wanted to look after him, and Dad wanted to go to stay. After only a short period, maybe less than a week, Dad suffered a fall and broke his hip. For various reasons they did not operate straight away and Dad’s health deteriorated. He was eventually moved to a cottage hospital close to my brother’s home where he continued to be neglected by the staff and was released into my brother’s care with support from the district nurses. He died within the week, just about six months after Mum, just short of his eighty third birthday. He shouldn’t have died, he could have lived a happy life for years. The system let him down. And I always felt that I let him down also. He was a good man, he should not have been allowed to waste away.

However, I guess he lost his way when he no longer had Mum to boss him around. He didn’t know what to do with himself. I felt much sadder about Dad’s death than I had about Mum. She fought until the last; he just gave up on life.

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Mum was the driving force in the family, but since his death I have realised what a great influence Dad had on me. I use so many phrases that were his, say things in the same manner as him. I am constantly reminded of him and only after his death do I realise how much a part of my life he was and is.

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Day 15, 30 April 2013, Carrión de Los Condes to San Nicolás del Real Camino, 31 km

The day started pretty much as forecast. Rain. Not too hard, but persistent. We left Carrión knowing we would not pass another village for 17 km and expecting to buy something for breakfast during our route out of the town. But there was no shop or bar open. How un-enterprising of the Spanish. I am absolutely sure that all our local businesses in Cómpeta would be much more on the ball.

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There were many pilgrims leaving town this morning, a steady stream of soggy humanity.

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There was some wind, but nothing compared to the last two days. The rain however persisted to soak us in a gentle way, and just before reaching the first pitstop at 17 km it decided to get a bit more serious. I think every pilgrim dived into the welcoming bar and divested themselves of their dripping outer garments. Ella and I discovered that our wet gear was exactly that – wet – outside and in! I suspect that if we were wearing our gear for a stroll in the countryside the rain would have stayed on the outside, but because of all the straps pulling our jackets tight, the rain seeped through, soaking our under layers. We were both wearing duck down, Ella a short jacket with hood, and I had on my body warmer. You don’t realise how wet you are until you stop and remove the outer layer, which is when you start to cool off.

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Anyway the bar was swarming with soggy pilgrims gasping for a hot drink and something to eat. We were joined at our table by the two Finish ladies we had met previously, but we were all a bit numb and didn’t converse much. They only have a few more days to walk because they are finishing at León and will possibly return another year to continue their camino.

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We wanted to get out of sync with the prescribed stages of the camino today, so that we can avoid the crowds who follow the travel guides. So we continued beyond the suggested stage end at Terradillos de los Templarios for a further 5 km and have stopped for the day at a delightful small albergue and I am now sitting in front of a wood burner with another family who are staying, and I don’t expect anyone else will arrive now, so Ella and I will have a room to ourselves. What a treat!

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Ella is not feeling well this afternoon, which is a real shame as she is not able to appreciate our comfortable surroundings. She has some terrible blisters, one of which was like a balloon and she virtually begged me to lance it for her because it was making her feel sick. I think she walks too fast and is too hard on her feet. Although we walk at a similar pace in the morning, she speeds up during the day (as I slow down) and she passes everyone in sight.

My feet are settling down at last. I helped the compeed plaster to detach from my heel yesterday, and that selection of blisters seem to be healing. My left heel is pretty much ok now, and all toes are in order. I still feel the pressure of the healing blisters with every step, but I can tell it is a lot easier than previous days.

This is an interesting area where many properties are constructed in mud – adobe style. I know from the terrace walls I have built in my garden using stone and mud how resilient this method is. During the last few years of heavy winter rainfall my terracing has stood the test of time and all remains in place. However the weeds find my walls a wonderful breeding ground. I am trying to overpower the weeds by spreading campanula everywhere possible, but it is an ongoing battle.

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As we left Carrión this morning we saw a sign stating 405 km to Santiago. Probably 10 km along the road we saw a sign stating 455 km. This is totally typical of the local signage and we really have no idea how far remains for us to travel, but we can feel it in our bones (and in our blisters) that we are nearing the half way point.

Ella and I are now travelling alone. Peter went ahead on day 6 I think, and we walked with Søren for a few more days. Then the two of us walked alone but met with Søren in the evening, but for the last two days we have not seen him. We owe these guys a debt of gratitude for sharing their time with us, we were a real band of four and shared some good experiences and encouraged each other through the first stages of this adventure. I hope we will hear from the guys again at some point in the future and in the meantime I wish them all the very best in their personal adventures. Thanks guys!

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There are some interesting statistics available from the pilgrim office in Santiago. I have copied the facts below from a blog that I am following, but I could have sourced the information for myself, if I didn’t have another white wine waiting to be drunk:

Last year, (2012) 192,488 people received their Compostela, which is a document you receive when you complete the Camino. You don’t need to have walked from St Jean Pied de Port or Roncesvalles to receive the compostela, you need only to have walked the last 100 kms.

Of those nearly 200,000 people, 49.5% were Spanish. The next highest group was German, at 8%. Italians were 6%, Americans came in at 3.6%, British were 1.9% and Australians made up 0.98%.

The majority of those that walked were aged between 30-60 years, at 57%. Under 30 was 28%, and over 60 was 15%.

The genders were almost equal – males at 56%, females at 44%.

The majority (21%) started at Sarria, 108 kms from Santiago. The next most popular starting point was St Jean Pied de Port, (nearly 800 kms), at 11.5%.

These statistics are somewhat misleading, because they represent only those who have been granted their Compostela. Many thousands more drop in and do stages, and don’t travel the full camino, often because they don’t have the time. They come back the next year and do another stage, and then another, until they complete the whole camino.

So it’s not inconceivable that last year, around a quarter of a million people walked the Camino de Santiago.

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Day 14, Fromista to Carrión de Los Condes, 21 km

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Firstly I would like to thank everyone once again for posting comments. I take great delight in reading them, although I don’t always reply directly due to lack of on-line time.

Yesterday we stayed in a private albergue, very well run with sufficient amenities. We quickly showered and changed and adjourned to a vey nice bar across the road where we drank a few! glasses of wine which were served with generous tapas – a delicious chunk of tortilla Español, which I don’t normally care for as it is usually very dry, but this was really good. We ordered a ration of morcilla to share which was huge enough for us and some left over for an Australian couple who shared our table to try. We were there so long that we replenished our appetites and I had an excellent bowl of fish soup and Ella had some croquettes.

We returned to the albergue in time for bed. The albergues usually have a curfew of 9:30 -10:00 pm when doors are locked and all lights go out. Most pilgrims are more than ready for bed by then.

I slept well, although I was aware of the wind howling around the building (no street cleaning machine this time – the real thing!). The forecast for the previous day had been winds of 35 km and for today were 45 km. So in the morning we wrapped up well – I wore my long-johns for the first time – and set off for the battle of the breeze. The breeze threatened to win most of the time, hugely strong gusts knocking us off course. I had to grip my walking poles really tight to stop them blowing in front of my legs and tripping me up. Unfortunately, it was way too cold to take off my gloves in order to take photos, so thus far it is a photo-free day. With my buff wound three times around my head and my jacket hood on top I was not taking much notice of the scenery, just ‘head down and keep going’.

We covered our planned 21 km and reached Carrion de los Condes in good time, but failed to find an albergue before leaving the town. On the outskirts was a hotel, an old monastery and I suggested we see how much it would cost to have a room for the night. I decided that if it was 50-€ or less we would stay there. However the receptionist at this 3 star establishment stated the price as 60-€ and I could not persuade him to let two cold and wet pilgrims stay for any less. So he gave us a map of the town and we retraced our footsteps.

We are now staying at the albergue Espiritu Santo, run by nuns, with separate dormitories and facilities for men and women, and single beds for all – no bunks. Bliss!

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We left for some lunch and returned to find men in our dorm, what are these nuns playing at!

It feels colder in the room than outside and we are wearing piles of clothes, sitting in our sleeping bags with an extra blanket on top, and still shivering. This is the view from the window next to my bed.

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We are promised rain tomorrow to go with the wind. Oh well, we were so lucky with the first ten or so days that we should not really complain.

It is hard work walking in strong wind, but even though the temperatures are really low I am not finding it too cold because the exercise keeps me warm and and my rucksack protects my back rom the elements. As long as I am reasonably warm when I set off, I can keep a steady temperature.

I am hoping that the weather tomorrow won’t be as bad as forecast – but it could be even worse. Vamos a ver!

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