Camino to Santiago de Compostella - Blog 4

So, my last blog ended in O'Cebreiro. I awoke next morning to teaming rain with the promise of what had been foretold - rain all day.

As I wrote in that blog, I had stopped at La Faba for a long rest. During this time a couple of Australian ladies joined me. It transpired this was their last day of walking. Their destination was O'Cebreiro at the top of the climb. They then needed to get to Santiago the next day (Sunday). They were getting a taxi to somewhere then a bus to Santiago. This seemed too much of a co-incidence. I said, "Could I share your taxi?" They said "of course". I explained I would like to get to Santiago to meet someone but I didn't know at that time if I could get to O'Cebreiro. So, we agreed that if I got there, I would see them at their hotel.

As you know, I did reach O'Cebreiro but, after settling in at the refuge, I gave up the idea of contacting the two Australians. "I am letting someone else have too much influence over my Camino," I thought to myself. BUT...as I came out from the Pilgrim Mass that evening, who did I meet but the two ladies, one of them saw me and said I was welcome to share the taxi. It would be there at 8.30am next morning and no worries if I didn't turn up. Was the Camino trying to tell me something?

Waking up next day to that promise of rain and having found out when and where the taxi would arrive, even though I had not tried to find out, I decided to go to Santiago. If Kristi wanted to meet on Monday, fine. If she had already struck up a friendship with another couple of pilgrims, fine - it would not necessarily be appropriate for me to intrude so if she didn't want to meet, also fine. I would avoid the rain and maybe see Kristi.

And so it was that I arrived unexpectedly early in Santiago. Having reached the old town, visited the Tourist Office and obtained a map of Santiago (as though I don't have several maps at home!) I decided to book a place to stay. Normally I never book in advance, but I wanted to stay at the Seminario Menor which has single rooms for only €21 but is a good 15mins walk from the old town. I couldn't face the walk with backpack etc to find they didn't have rooms and had to trudge around Santiago looking for cheap accommodation. All was fine, they had space. Then needed to find an open supermarket - no mean feat on a Sunday in Spain - so I didn't get to my accommodation until 16:30pm despite arriving in Santiago at about 13:00pm.

My room was on the third floor but joy of joys, there was a lift. I had stayed there in 2011 and I remembered having had to wearily trudge up three flights of stairs. The room was not en-suite but did have a hand basin and a little desk and chair. It was very similar to the kind of room you would find in a retreat house, which is not surprising as the building used to be a seminary. Having settled in I sent a message to Kristi explaining I was in Santiago and that it was OK if she didn't want to meet me. All was well!

Next day Kristi and I met in the square in front of the Cathedral. It was lovely to see her again. She had struck up a friendship with a couple of other pilgrims and we had lunch together after she got her Compostela. I had a pizza which was great as it was something I normally wouldn't be able to cook. We said our goodbyes and she went off to her accommodation for she was leaving next day. I returned to mine and gave thoughts as to my next move. I thought maybe I would skip a stage and restart the Camino at Sarria which is the 100km mark on the Camino Frances from which place you must walk in order to qualify for a Compostela. It does not matter if you have walked 1000 kms before it, if you do not complete that 100 kms, you will not qualify! But then there was that little voice saying "Yes, you did the Camino, but you didn't walk from O'Cebreiro to Sarria."

In the end I decided I had to restart at O'Cebreiro and again did something I would not normally do - I booked a bed in advance. The bus did not reach O'Cebreiro until just after 14:00pm. I planned to walk a short 4km stretch to Linares but would arrive quite late. I knew I would be too tired to walk on. Also, so far, I have always been able to get a bottom bunk bed. I really don't think I could climb up into a top bunk. Again, this was another reason to book in advance.

So, all went to plan. It was a lovely day when I arrived in O'Cebreiro. I set off down the Camino which was a lovely, wide cart track through a wooded area. Every now and then you got a view across the countryside. I arrived at the albergue and claimed my bed. It had been a very pleasant walk and I was really grateful I had avoided the rain - thank you Camino and Kristi.

Next day dawned a bit on the overcast side. There were wisps of cloud over parts of lower ground and it was fresh, I needed the fleece (so glad I bought it) but it felt as though these wispy clouds would burn away as the day progressed. And indeed that is what happened. Reaching my halfway point for the day I stopped for a bocadillo of cheese and bacon. It was very filling so again I was able to keep half for next day's breakfast. A while after I arrived, two guys arrived and I could hear a distinctive Irish accent. I struck up conversation with my fellow countrymen, brothers, who were from Galway. Exchanging the "Where are you from" type details, it turned out they knew Hitchin! I couldn't believe it. Their cousin lived in Hitchin. I said they should tell their cousin they'd met me and that our Pastoral Assistant had started to put my blog on the parish website so she would be able to read it there. So, "Hello to the cousin of two Irish guys from Galway" - more of them later.

This was a very rural area where cattle featured prominently. As I exited the village I had stopped in, I had to pause and let the cattle go by. This happened again. The journey continued and I was glad to reach Tricastella where to my relief the municipal albergue was open. I registered and got my bed. The dorms there were all just 4 beds - i.e. 2 sets of bunk beds. The great thing was though, I was on the same floor as the ladies loos and showers.

Next day I had a choice of routes to Sarria. One, the longest, went via Samos, a monastery I had stayed in several times. The other was shorter and I hadn't done it before so I decided to take that one. Initially it was very pleasant, along a pleasant, quiet road. But as I exited the first village, the route climbed. It was so steep. But little by little I made my way up the ascent. One of the Irish guys I had met the day before overtook me. "How are you?" he said, "I'm OK", I replied. He wished me well. His brother overtook me a few minutes later and we said "Buen Camino". It was tough going but eventually I arrived at the top of the incline.

The journey continued and I was looking forward to stopping for refreshment which turned out to be a vending machine. At least there was a bench one could sit on and the machine worked. After my rest I continued through the village and lo and behold, didn't I come across a lovely 'donativo' rest area. There was free wifi, several sofas, lots of fruit and various things to drink. How sorry I was that I didn't know of its existence before I stopped at the vending machine. As I passed, I suddenly heard someone saying, "Are you Ann?" I stopped and turned. It was the owner, a young guy, I presumed Spanish. "Yes" I said. "Oh" he said. "There were two Irish chaps here a while ago and they asked me to look out for you and say 'Hello' from them." It was of course the two lads from Galway. I was really touched they had thought to ask the man to look out for me.

Again, my journey continued. Next day I arrived at Sarria - the magic 100 kms mark. I should have walked on as I had not covered that much ground but, perversely, I decided to stay even though it was only just gone 10:00am and the municipal refugio didn't open until 13:00pm. In the end, I stayed at a private refugio in a Monastery just on the exit of the town. Next day I headed out determined to walk a bit further than I had been recently. There was yet another very steep ascent not long after I left Sarria. I got about 2/3rd the way up, panting for breath and stopped to catch my breath. "I am not enjoying this" I thought to myself; "I have done the rain bit, I have done the steep climb bit into La Faba; maybe I'll just get to the next town and take a bus to Santiago." I really was dispirited and grumbling.

At last I reached the top. It was lovely. It was a beautiful, flat, wide, inviting dirt track with wonderful views. Then I saw a flower. It was yellow, unlike the purple 'weedy' looking plants among which it grew. It was a solitary beacon of encouragement. I felt that it, combined with the lovely and inviting track, was a sign of encouragement from above. "This is not so bad," I thought to myself; "maybe I will not get a bus at the next town."