Camino De Santiago: Day 29--Palas de Rei to Castaneda

Day 29--Getting so close to Santiago! Can you feel it?!

I left Palas De Rei...

...danced with the statues...

...walked past yet another traditional corn crib...

...hiked through green field after green field of smelly cows...

...and through shaded tunnel of trees after shaded tunnel of trees. 

Hi.

It was a beautiful morning and I snapped quite a few pictures as I went just to try to capture and remember the experience. 

Another typical cross in another typical Galician small town. In some parts of the region you can definitely tell that Galicia still remains one of the poorer regions of Spain. 

Yes, another cemetery!

The church of Santa Maria de Leboreiro (a 14th century UNESCO site), where I stopped for a looksy and a stamp in my pilgrim credentials. 

Back outside...clouds were starting to roll in...

Getting close to the city of Melide

I stopped in another little church and found this pinned to the back of the church

In Melide, there is really one thing you cannot leave town without doing--Eating pulpo (octopus). Spain is famous for their octopus, and within Spain the region of Galicia is the most famous for octopus. Within Galicia the most famous city for octopus is Melide--and in Melide this bar is the place to eat it. So you see, we had to stop!

They boil the octopus in giant vats, snip it into discs with scissors, drizzle it with olive oil and then shake spices over top. It's served on traditional wooden plates and eaten with toothpicks. Juanma had a bowl of wine (the traditional way to serve it there), and we finished up with an order of pimiento de padron: small, local green peppers which apparently sometimes are super spicy, and other times not--Which leads to the refrain: 

"Os pementos de Padrón, uns pican e outros non" (Gallego), or, 

"Los pimientos de Padrón, unos pican y otros no"(Castellano). 

I had lunch with Maica and Juanma and ran into my Korean friend Bonnie (which got the song "My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean" stuck in my head all over again). Her friend also needed our help translating a text she received from her boyfriend that was written in Spanish--taken literally, it said roughly: You are the garlic of my life. 

Cute, no?

Anyway, I'd had octopus before and wasn't a fan. Squid I like, octopus not so much (the texture of the tentacles weirds me out), but, I will say, this was by far the best octopus I've had. I ate almost all of it--except the tails. That was too much for me. Luckily Juanma was ready and willing to eat my rejects! : )

After lunch we passed by the 15th century Capela de San Roque. Supposedly it had some nice Romanesque features (Maica's favorite) and a nice ceiling, so we wanted to have a look inside. 

The reason it happened to be open was that there was a baptism going on inside. The family was all gathering and taking pictures...and we totally crashed it!

The frescoed ceiling

Romanesque capitals

Juanma checking the map. 

We were talking about where each of us planned to stay for the night and all decided that we would make it an easy 23 km day and stay for the night in Castañeda, if we could. I say "if we could" because there was only one private hostel there and it only had 4 beds. In the end Juanman let me use his cell phone to call them and we all reserved beds for the night. 

When we got there (unfortunately not before it started raining!) we rejoiced in that we might have a quiet night. None of the 3 of us snored and the 4th bed belonged to an older Italian woman. It was this night that I officially put off the notion that women snore less than men. The italian woman's bunk was underneath mine and I swear she shook the bed growling like a bear the entire night. On the plus side--for the first time we had clean sheets AND blankets on our beds! Que lujo!

With nothing else in town we sat around the cafe attached to the hostel, ate (I had a big steaming bowl of Caldo Gallego, typical Galician soup of mostly cabbage, potatoes and white beans) and chatted with whoever came in. As we planned out the next day's journey, Juanma and I joked about the refrains/riddles he was always confusing me with. Maica, stopped me mid sentence and said basically--Look Lauren. Enough. Get it right!

Turns out Juanma hadn't been laughing all this time solely because he thought his refrains were funny--it was also because I was unknowingly butchering them! For the first time since he taught it to me way back in Santo Domingo (yeah, day seven!) I got it right. I wrote it on the paper table cloth and took a picture of it for future reference: 

Bonus points to anyone who can tell me como le entra el agua al coco!

Camino De Santiago: Day 25--La Faba to Fonfria

I've returned to the habit of using Camino metaphors for just about everything in my life at the moment (which...don't worry, I know is annoying), so I thought I would channel my Camino nostalgia and bring you blog readers to the finish line! Vamos!

The truth of the matter is that day 25 on the Camino felt magical. 

It also felt painful...but that wasn't till later. 

Because of the surrounding mountains the sun took even longer than usual to peak out...

which gave the horizon an even more magical quality. 

 It was the kind of thing where you felt the need to stop and take a picture every five steps (which...was also a great excuse to catch your breath on the steep climb!)

After a while I caught up to my Sevillan Camino friends. We knew we were closing in on the town of O'Cebreiro because we heard the church bells ringing. We looked at our watches and couldn't figure out why the bells were ringing though (it was not close to the hour). Then we turned to our right and realized we were next to a barn and the sound was actually coming from cow bells inside. 

Oops. 

I still find it to be pretty hilarious though.

We were excited to find the way marker that told us we were now entering the region of Galicia--the region that included Santiago! Our excitement plus the fact that Maica is half Gallego meant we needed a picture to remember the moment. 

Hello Galicia!

A little bit later we ran into yet another sign telling us that we were now entering Galicia...So we took another picture. 

We caught up with Juanma to find him counting the tree rings in this massive tree stump. The number was getting quite high before he gave it up. 

As we got higher and higher in the mountains, we literally were walking through the clouds. 

The thick air on your skin, the excitement of making it to our final region, and the mysterious spirit of Galicia gave everything a fairytale-like quality.  

The town of O'Cebreiro (which I mispronounced the first 100 times to Juanma's chagrin) had some examples of the historical Galician round stone buildings. Galicia has strong Celtic roots, and  you can definitely feel it--in the stone structures, the music and the rainy hills.

People have been living in this spot since ancient times. This church was built on the foundations of a pre-Romanesque church

We got stamps for our Camino passports inside, and I picked up a second passport as I was all but out of space in my first one. Also, when you get to Galicia, they like for you to get two stamps per day--up until that point I mostly only got stamps each evening when I checked into the hostels. Cathedrals, churches, museums, and even some bars had stamps, too. When you finally get to Santiago, they check through your Camino passport/credentials to make sure that you have stamps from each place proving you walked each stage. 

Facing the village of O'Cebreiro from the doors of the church

Galicia is known for having strong mystic traditions. Once you walk through the regions forests you understand how witches are still popular around here. 

We made it up the hill outside of town as the clouds started to break. We stopped and rested on the base of the pilgrim statue and ate some piquislabis (snacks). Somewhere that day I had picked up a bag of dried apricots that, for some reason, I felt the need to try to make everyone around me eat. When we stopped later there were a bunch of cyclists taking a break. I tried to force feed them apricots, too. The only thing was that I could never remember the word for dried aprictos (something sounding like the word for ear I think--see, I still can't remember). It's easier to talk people into sharing your snack when you actually know what its called.

We'd all need the energy from those dried apricots because the toughest part of the day was upon us. You have a steep climb all the way up to O'Cebreiro (you go up 600 meters in 10k). Once there you dip up and down until you get to the steep climb to Alto do Poio. 

Whew. The last part of the climb was almost vertical. I still had my two walking sticks and was practically pulling myself up. We heard of a lady who was determined to make it up and resorted to climbing on all fours...which really didn't sound to outrageous when you were there.

I don't have any pictures of the climb, well, because I didn't have the energy to take out my camera.

When Maica and I made it to the top Juanma was waiting and cheering for us at the cafe on top. Maica bought us all a celebratory round of juice and Juanma signed us all into the guestbook inside to document the fact that, yes, we conquered Alto do Poio! (He even went back inside and change it when he realized he misspelled my name).

Just outside the cafe I left my extra walking stick and off we went again. 

From then on, Alto do Poio became our rallying cry--If we could make it up Alto do Poio, we could do anything!

Another casi (almost) arrow which I warmly welcomed as we finally made it to Fonfria.

Once in Fonfria we realized there was nothing to the town besides the hostel and a little restaurant. After such a long day I was perfectly fine with that.

Perhaps it was just the beautiful and long day of climbing effecting our appetites, but we ate really well. Since we were finally in Galicia, Maica ordered pulpo (octopus), which is Galicia is famous for. 

We made it back to the albergue and I stayed there for the rest of the evening. I splurged and machine washed all my clothes, took a nap, and stared out the windows in the warm common room until it was time to hit the sack. 

Camino De Santiago: Day 20--Astorga to Rabanal del Camino

Day 20 walking the Camino! Was I an old pro by this point? No, but I definitely felt old. Especially after the 31 kilometer mistake of the day before. Anyway, I woke up on day 20 ready to go!

I left the beautiful little town of Astorga and passed all the buildings I arrived to town too late to see (which I won't lie--I was kind of relieved that I didn't have to muster up the energy to see them!). 

First was the Palácio Episcopal designed by Gaudi

And then there was the Catedral de Santa María de Astorga. It wasn't Leon or Burgos, but it impressed me nonetheless. 

I knew that I must have left the albergue earlier than normal because I ran into my retired Sevillan friends before even leaving Astorga (they generally left so much earlier than me so I normally wouldn't catch them until after lunch). I was content to take the day slow, so we walked together for a while until they wanted to stop for piquislabi, which is a very Andalusian way to say snacks. We sat on the benches built into an old church in a tiny little town and pulled out our goods. Juanma tried to force tocino on me for the hundredth time (no, thank you!) and Maica brought out the extra-extra dark chocolate typical of the region (yes, please!).

Then, as if I needed a reason to like these people even more, Maica got curious and before I could even catch up to what she was saying she had Juanma come over and give her a boost so she could look inside the church. The whole thing was pretty hilarious.

After chatting with a local grandpa and trying to force chocolate on a little girl we were off again. 

 And finally, finally, we were getting out of the Meseta! 

In one of the other lovely moments of the day we happened upon this little guy and his momma. Maica shepherded him off the road, then, worried that they would wonder back into the street, Maica directed Juanma to give the dogs something to eat

And what did these dogs get? Fancy smoked meat is what! Maica ripped off some pieces of it with her teeth and thew it over away from the road. 

(And, she'll probably kill me but I love this picture!)

Such a cute little guy!

We made it to Rabanal in a good 20 kilometers. I had wanted to stay at the Albergue Gaucelmo because it was run by British volunteers from the Confraternity of Saint James. We all decided to stay there, and, let me tell you, it was a great decision. It was one of the coziest hostels of the whole Camino.

Upon arrival we were greeted by an adorably worrying English couple. They truly made you feel like you were staying in their home. (The husband also reminded us of Collin Firth--he spoke exactly the same way.) The place was spotless, and, even better, they were very serious about keeping out bedbugs. To top it off, they gave all of us a set of paper sheets. They might remind you of a doctor's office, but to us they felt like Egyptian cotton.

We dropped off our bags and went for a Spanish lunch. The small towns had the very best menus and we ate very well in Rabanal. So good in fact that after our flan Maica was talked into dancing to the Galician music playing. A Bavarian couple in the corner got in on the action as well.

We got back, did laundry, and had a look around the hostel grounds.

Wood pile for the wood-burning stove that heated the place

And the nice, manicured lawn (would you expect anything less from a British hostel?). Several of us were out relaxing in the sun when we got a call for...(wait for it)...

Tea time!

Ah, it was delicious! They had English Breakfast and Earl Grey brewed up for us, with biscuits (cookies) and everything. We were all English speakers (except for my Spanish friends I dragged along! ...but Spaniards don't do tea time) so it was a nice break from wracking my brain to halfway understand Spanish or French or Italian, etc. like normal. 

I also met some fantastic pilgrims. The Bavarian couple from lunch, Karl and Linda, were there and sitting next to me around the table was Denise, a Tazmanian walking the Camino with her husband Mark. Her expressions as she told stories were hilarious. Happily, I would keep running into these pilgrims for the rest of my Camino.

Another reason I wanted to stay in Rabanal was the monks. My guidebook said, 

The building beside Albergue Gaucelmo is inhabited by Bavarian Benedictine monks who established a monastery here in 2001. Following a series of disagreements with the local people, they were run out of town in August 2009 however they have now returned. The monks come from the St Ottilien Abbey in Bavaria, which has also been in the news recently... On some evenings there are Vespers with Gregorian chant in the evening in the small church opposite Albergue Gaucelmo.

Sounds intriguing, no? So of course we made it to the tiny chapel to hear these Gregorian chants. I had a lovely experience with nuns in Leon (I forgot to mention that in the Leon post, didn't I?) so I wanted to make it to this.

The little service was mostly in English, with a little German. As I attempted to translate into Spanish for my friends they threw out some Castellano. Some fellow pilgrims got to read a few Bible passages and there was a small sermon-type charge. But do you know what I remember most? The singing of course. Because...

It was bad. I mean...I was really tired and all, but I was having to stifle my giggles. (Real mature, Lauren. I know.) There were only a handful of monks, and God bless them, they were not musically gifted.

We had the opportunity to go back for another short service that evening...but we passed. 

Instead I had a bowl of lentils, had a long chat with a young German (Austrian?) pilgrim at the dinner table, and then watched the sun go down. 

A beautiful day from start to finish.