Another gorgeous day: a cold start (3 degrees!) but sunny the whole day. Yesterday the path had taken me (or rather, I had taken the bike) from about 1000m up to 1515m and then down to 500m. Pyrenees Mk4 and more. While I had seen that 'later' in the Camino there was another climb, I had not paid as much attention to the map as I should have.
You might remember Joseph, from my first evening on the Camino. Well, I thought of Joseph again today; each time I passed walkers as I was riding up hill. Smile on my face as if it was easy: ting! went my little bell. 'Buen Camino!'
The first part of today was essentially flat (from 500m to 630m). But then there was a little matter of a climb from 630m straight up to 1330m, in the space of about 9 km! That was something I hadn't factored in.
But it was a Sunday - something I had not realised until I got on the roads and found them almost totally deserted. This is something I've discovered; you totally disconnect from the outside world. I don't have a clue what is happening out there and actually I rather like that. Focus on the way.
In fact for pretty much the whole day I had the (excellent) roads to myself, with the exception of a few other bikers. Both the logo-emblazoned lycra-suited clipped to the pedals massive calf muscled hill climbers (people really seem to do this for fun), and the Camino travellers. I spent part of the main climb changing places with Tony from Slovenia. He had panniers front and back, some 20kg more than me. And he'd ridden from Slovenia. "I will pass 3000km today" he told me. Sort of puts those Dutch riders who 'only' do about 2000km to shame.
The first part of the climb the road passed between the rustle of the Rio Valcarce below, and the hum of the A6 motorway high above. An impressive bit of engineering, double-decker viaducts hundreds of metres above me. Eventually I'd climbed so far that I was looking down on the same motorway.
At breakfast at the albergue (a better experience than dinner) I sat with three American women travelling together. I asked if they were going all the way to Santiago. "We're going to Fisterra [past Santiago]. We want to see the ocean." And then, by way of explanation, "We've each lost a child and there's something we want to do there." I of course immediately thought of the film, 'The Way', but thought it better left unasked whether indeed they were scattering the ashes of their children. An interesting breakfast conversation.
Ian and Narelle from Oatley (a southern suburb of Sydney) were sitting having a leisurely drink at O Cebreiro when I pulled in for my second café con leche. Narelle had been planning the trip for 20 years (Ian was just coming along for the walk). They'd booked the whole trip as an organised tour, with the luggage being sent ahead every day, and each day involving a strenuous couple of hours of walking.
Which reminds me of the feeling I had as I was battling up a particularly steep long hill stretch, and a taxi rushed by with a couple of bikes strapped to the back; envy, but at the same time a feeling of vindication.
Feeling ready to stop for the day, I had a look at the guide. I was near a major stage endpoint, and the road had been full of walkers. So I engaged my 'pick a little town just past major stopping points' strategy. '500m detour Lusio' said the guide, 'a new albergue in a beautifully restored monastery.' That sounded appealing, and so became the plan.
Arriving at the place I wondered for a minute whether I'd missed my turn. In the middle of nowhere there was indeed a beautifully restored building, but no sign of life. Then I spotted a woman sitting out front. '"Albergue?" she asked. Going inside I couldn't believe what I found - indeed a beautifully restored old building (made of slate stones). It seemed deserted. "Anyone else here?" I asked. "No, you are the only one". Incredible! After battling to find a place so many times, here's a newly-restored beautiful building just for me! And even better,the dormitory room is heated! And For the princely sum of 6 euros, the entire place is being lit, heated, and cleaned.
Later one more bike riders arrives. He's done the northern Camino and is now returning via the 'French way'. He's had trouble finding a bed for the night; all the nearby albergues are full.
Dinner tonight at the 'neighbour's'. I walk over there to ask if they can make dinner (at the suggestion of the woman running the albergue). No problem, what would you like? I go for soup, an omelette and some salad, playing it safe. I turn up at the agreed time and am served a meal that's enough for a family of four. "All for you " says my host. "You need energy for the Camino. Would you like water or wine?" I think of asking for both but decide to keep it simple and go with the wine. The next minute there's a whole bottle of the local red wine on the table (no question of white wine; wine is red. Luckily that is the way I like it).
Then comes dessert. One of the options is local cheese, which sounds much more interesting than the standard yoghurt or fruit. I go with the cheese, which arrives later with some ominous looking black stuff on it. "Fruit" says my host.
Pacing myself with the wine, I notice the bottle seems to be emptying slowly. Then I notice it's a full litre bottle. I have had a half a litre and I haven't had my cheese yet. I will sleep well tonight.
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