Follow the Pilgrim

EYES  WIDE  OPEN

Today we walked uphill 1200 feet in 3.1 miles to reach the town of O'Cebreiro.

We fueled up with a coffee stop in pretty Vega de Valcarce before beginning the ascent from La Faba. (This part of the walk is not on the map.) With my typical flawed timing, I managed to miss the steamy scenes on the Spanish soap and, instead, I shot the old guy.  

Coffee stops are, coincidentally, "rest stops." The view below is the view from the women's room. I remember my ridiculous phase of hanging up laundry, including the sheets and diapers....for the sake of freshness. Sanity took away that phase quickly. The green green fields mark our transition into Galicia.

My "food movie" friend  led our   small group of Americans up, up and up into the mist. Heavy breathing sang out from all of us as the rest of our walkers moved further and further ahead of us.  The cool  air seeped into my body and I did not sweat, and my face did not turn red like the day before.  Iris, foxglove, Queen Anne's Lace, angelica, yarrow and purple somethings  colored the land. JOY! How could  such  skinny stems thrust up through such  dense shrubs  to raise those radiant blooms to the sky?
And why do I feel such joy at these moments?

Surprise!!! They Are Everywhere!

Wild and domesticated plants and flowers were my companions and entertainment as the ascent continued into the cloud. 

With the mist ahead of us we wandered up toward the toward the high point and were met by the pilgrim.

What is a pilgrim, you ask? 

The quick answer is a person who makes a journey to a sacred place as an act of religious devotion.

The Pilgrim 's presence is all around us on this path

Was I a pilgrim? I was and am a little foggy about that. I was on a road to a sacred place, but, although I felt deep respect for the role of "The Camino" and the quest for the blessing at the end of the journey, I knew I was on this path for other personal purposes. The most I can say is, my journey was and is about my search for an inner solace and to feed the joy of the moment. How fitting to be in a cloud.  

The views from this spot into the Valcarce Valley are stupendous, so they say. You can see valleys, rivers and across to more mountains, so they say. They also say that O'Cebreiro almost always wears a cloud. 

This pilgrim photo is a companion piece to my view of the Oregon Coast one summer a few years ago.

Finally, we arrived in O'Cebreiro where we gulped down a drink in a bar before heading to lunch. It seems we had dawdled and others were hungry for lunch. I took a lovely, random photo of the bar and was chastised by  a very serious policeman for taking his picture. He and his partner were sitting off to the right of our guys. Who knew? I was lucky to keep my camera.

  

                                                                           

Our lunch stop was in Hospital de Condesa at Meson de Tear. I ate a filling meal of salad, roast chicken with potatoes and crema caramelo. Of course, wine was served from large bottomless bottles. No wonder I ate only a protein bar in the evening. 

                                                     

The group gathers for the downhill walk

Our walk choices for the afternoon were 11 kilometers for the tough and fit, 7 kilometers for the pretty fit and 4.7 for we seniors. We roamed down a gentle slope through small farms with lush pastures and rich soil which lent support for the many farm animals thriving on the land. Just ahead of us was Triacastelea. 

      

This gnarled chestnut tree marked the entrance to Triacastelea. Galicia celebrates many Gallic traditions and our introduction to them began here. Now we would see hórreos - traditional, small granaries as well as wayside crosses which externalizes their ingrained spirituality. Also, their spoken language has unique nuances and idioms and an example within the written language is the substitution of X instead of J as in Xunta. Our fun treat of the day was another Gallic tradition awaiting us in the bar.

Not one of us...too tired to move

The bagpipe sound announced itself from afar as we ordered our drinks in the bar. In came the trio with bagpipe and drums. It felt like Ireland which I hope to visit. Luckily, we were ahead of the fitter group by a bit and let the music  relax our muscles as we drank our drinks.

Our final resting spot for the evening was  in Sarria at the Hotel Alfonzo XI. Six more miles ticked off after a steep climb and a peaceful downhill slope to the finish. Pooped is what I was. I ate a 15g protein bar, drank water, settled down to read a new novel, "The Angel's Game" and slept.

Tomorrow, I experience "The Way."