A great day's cycling today. Survived the climb to the highest point on the Camino,1515m. Actually, after being a bit apprehensive about the climb, it turned out to be much better (I hesitate to say 'easier') than I had expected. What I hadn't expected was the steepness of the descent - that was a wild ride! The brake disks on the bike got a lot hotter than I had expected; so I took it in stages to give them a chance to cool down. Visions of the brakes fading at an inconvenient moment restrained me.
A beautiful day as well, sunny but cold at the top. The scenery was gorgeous. The path sensibly skirted the snow-covered mountains had been seeing yesterday, although at the top those mountains looked like they weren't much higher.
The little stone I had been carrying with me (brought from home) is now part of the enormous pile at the Cruz de Ferro, marking the high point. That little stone has been around the world several times, having originally come from near Austin, Texas. It seemed an appropriate one to choose for the Camino.
At the Cruz de Ferro, I pulled off the path to a shelter there, to be offered a coffee by a French girl, Anneline from Normandy. She's trying to start an alternative life in an abandoned village nearby and spends her day near the Camino meeting the travellers. An interesting lifestyle that might sound idyllic, but can't be easy.
I met up with Joke and Maj on several occasions throughout the day, as well as yet another (Dutch) couple riding a tandem. As an interesting aside, all the Dutch bike riders I've met have ridden all the way from Holland - a trip of well over 2,000km so far.
I pushed through the ugly large town of Ponferrada to end the day in Villafranca de Bierzo. Arriving in the town I headed to my chosen albergue, which I couldn't immediately find. Retracing my steps I came across two women walkers who were looking for the same place. "You could always try another place" I suggested. "We've had our luggage sent ahead to it, so we have to stay there". One of the disadvantages for those who choose to send their luggage ahead to lighten their load; they are then committed to walking that far. I went ahead to find the place, which I eventually did. Or at least, I found the sign. 'Delightful gardens' the guidebook had said. All I found was an overgrown plot, some ruins, and a builder's crane. The place was long gone. At some time there must have been a development planned, but clearly it had fallen through, like so many others, as a result of the financial crisis in Spain.
Bad news for the two ladies - they had had their luggage sent to a non-existent albergue!
I found another albergue; a very alternative place with an interesting feel. I think Anneline would have felt at home here. A walk into town for a drink turned into a Flamenco Fiesta, complete with dancing, riders on horseback and many women in flamenco dresses dancing in the street. Fortuitous timing on my part, although I couldn't stay too long as I had to be back at the albergue for dinner. In retrospect, I would have been better to stay at the Fiesta as the dinner,interesting as it was, was dominated by some (actually, one) loud Italians. Actually, even the Italians were complaining about him.
To change the subject, one thing that I have noticed on previous trips to Spain, and which is reinforced by this trip, is that the scenery is gorgeous and the towns and villages have delightful old centres. But the Spanish have managed to surround them by pervasive and unrelenting ugliness. It seems that anything newer than, say, 70 years is designed to be ugly. And to make it worse, the ugliness is made less attractive (if that were possible) by an apparent lack of maintenance; if it starts to fall down, build a newer, even uglier building to replace it (but don't remove the original building, just let it gradually fall down).
What a shame - the original villages and buildings are often really nice.
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