The Day of the Third Mountain

One of the reasons I haven´t posted on our blog for the last few days is that we´ve finally joined up with our caravan. We are walking from one place to the next at the same pace - more or less - as a group of other pilgrims and while we don´t walk together our paths cross and we often eat in the same restaurants or town squares in the evening.

Today we climbed our third mountain range to O Cebreiro, the ´mythic´village on the Camino, just over the border between Castilla-Leon and Galicia where some miracle associated with the Holy Grail happened in the middle ages. Luna and Rosa who are one quarter Galician are coming home. From now on, we have a gentle descent towards Santiago, about five or six days away.

The road is busier except that we leave around ten in the morning so we miss the pilgrim peak hour. Most people in the Albergues are in bed at nine and leave at six in the morning. We tried that one day but it didn´t suit Rosa so we have a more leisurely time. Since Astorga we´ve been trailing a couple of Brazilian guys who have more or less the same rhythym. Perhaps it´s coming from the southern hemispere but whyrush?

The problem is that when we come back to the Albergue after dinner all the lights are out, and everyone is asleep so that we bumble around looking for a headtorch and toothbrush. Tonight Luna growled at me as I approached our bunk bed. ´Mum you forgot to put the sleeping bags out before we left.´ There is no way that I could extricate the bags from my superlight, supertight pack without scrunching some plastic and scraping the zips and possibly annoying the neighbour. Earplugs are possibly the most important equipment on the camino.

Walking along today Rosa concluded that it was OK to do a few bad things before we get to Santiago because all will be forgiven in this Holy Year. ´´I don´t think you should do too many bad things Rosa!´ Coming down from O Cebreiro a scuffle broke out between the pilgrim sisters. One threw the other´s chocolate in the dirt and the other used her Leki women´s walking stick as a weapon. A jab in the left leg and a few tears and we walked on. There isn´t any other option but to keep walking.

Yesterday was the day of all days. We arrived at the base of the last mountain late afternoon and happened to meet up with Brian and Emily from Tasmania. Emily is one of Rosa´s chat-along buddies. We climbed through wet forest. My favourite flowers - daisies and forget-me-nots - were scattered in the wild amongst moss and ferns. We trod on the old stone road, part of the ancient Camino. Half-way at La Faba we stopped at one of fountains placed along the way but this one looked dodgy so I went into a neighbourhood shop to get a bottle of water and ended up tasting the local red and a slab of sheepmilk cheese.

´Better go. We have to get there tonight.´ Through heath and brush we climbed, rows of mountains, some snow-capped, receding into the distance all around us, that luscious soft light of the evening. The first building we saw a typical circular brush-roofed pighouse and all the beasts were standing around waiting to go in for the night.

Our Albergue for the night, owned by a woman called Luz Divina (Divine Light) was in a stone building in a typical rural pueblo. We are in a loft room with 8 beds and three are ready for us. There is a washing machine line and warm wind. A cow almost walks into the bar when we are having dinner. A grey dappled pony is tied up outside. Dogs everywhere. Rosa is in heaven. I love the clear skies, mountain air and rural scale. The perfect place to stay before starting the final part of our journey.