12.75 miles in the P O U R I N G rain. The walk from Olveiroa to Cee was probably the prettiest and through the wildest country we have experienced, but that beauty could not be enjoyed to the fullest as we tried, in vain, to fight off the pelting, windy, blowing, hard rain. It blew from the front and from the side and from the back. It blew in your face and up your arms. You plod on. Tanya’s boots are soaked. Ian’s pack cover is full of water. Water is trickling through the water proof pants. It is a heavy, heavy rain, and the path is stony and tricky to navigate.

We arrive at Hotel Larry dripping and drenched. Everything is wet–not only clothes, but train and plane tickets, and other papers, everything right into the deepest sections of the pack. The question is, “Will it all dry by tomorrow?”

Fortunately, our suitcases beat us here, so we change into dry things and go to the hotel’s restaurant for lunch–it is now almost 2:00. After a large bowl of hot and surprisingly tasty chicken vegetable soup, the wet clothes and papers get their due attention. Stuff the boots with toilet paper, borrow Tanya’s hair dryer to dry the papers (it works to that end), roll everything in towels that can be rolled in towels and stomp on them to get out as much water as possible. Search for the plastic bags, which should have been used, but weren’t, to keep the necessities dry for tomorrow’s walk. NEVER AGAIN will I go without dry sacks for everything in the pack!

But you know what? Despite the weather, it was great to be out in it! And at least it wasn’t freezing out; that makes a huge difference.

Only one photo today, taken just as we set out at 8:15 a.m.:

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Location:Olveiroa to Cee

Another day of decision, not so much mine, but Ian and Tan’s. To take the taxi pre-arranged by our booking company so that we would have 21 kilometers to walk rather than the full distance of 33, or bag the cab and walk the whole way. I was eager to walk the distance and since it is well way-marked, and we had figured out where the path led out of town, I was willing to go alone, though walking with mis dos amigos was by far the more attractive option. In the end, since good weather was predicted, they decided to walk the whole way, as well. What we did not know was that the 33 K was really 36 or 22.44 miles, and that a good deal of it was up hill.

The predicted fair weather turned out to be less than fabulous, but luckily, not terrible, meaning rain, not pelting rain and not freezing rain, and much of the day no rain at all. It could have been way worse! We made good time, too–leaving rather late, 8:30, and arriving before 5:00. We even took time for photos. I say, yeah for us!

Moses with his staff? No:

Mr. spider is not home:

Seven skinny cows clomp through town…..

and I think……Behold! Seven lean years are coming!

This naturally leads to intense observations of corn, not a variety people eat, but maize—but maybe that does not matter.

Corn just before harvest:

Corn stalks just after harvest:

And after after harvest:

Fallen off the truck, lying by the side of the road corn:

Corn being dried:

Husks laid out for some purpose:

And of course, an excuse for another photo of one of those great looking, maize storage structures:

It is now time for a coffee stop. We choose only the poshest places:

Cat lovers, you are not forgotten:

These hens were strangely quiet. Maybe, if they make no noise, they will not end up as dinner:

Where tires go to die:

How happy we were to be welcomed into a charming, refurbished old farm house for the night. Rooms with stone walls, lovely windows, good view; it is just what we needed after our 22+ mile, up hill day. However, dinner was so bad as to be inedible except for the ice cream, which, truth be told, might not make the cut for a Good Humor truck! The brought-from-home peanut butter, snitched-from-breakfast jam, leftover roll, and purchased chocolate covered nuts, were a lifesaver!

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Location:Negreria to Olveiroa

Santiago Cathedral as seen from across the square in the pouring rain, the morning of our departure:

It was a gloomy start to a 14.69 mile day, but by late morning we could shed the rain gear. We are on our way to, Fisterra or Finisterre, depending on what map you consult.

After we leave the city, the niceness of the walk improves greatly. OK, so the paths were muddy, but not your-boots-stick-in-the-mud-and-you-can’t-get-them out kind of muddy. And there were lots of trees:

The ferns are especially beautiful:

Messes of chestnuts lie on the ground:

Closer up:

Some critters have not fared well, like this lizard, por ejemplo:

or this headless snake:

There were many barking dogs behind fences, but this cocker wanted so badly to come out and join us. I know he did!

Fish is delivered (as is bread) in small towns by truck. It works like this: the driver starts leaning on his horn, set to a shrill, horrendous pitch, and as he approaches his customer’s house, he beeps and beeps and beeps and beeps the horn. The customer eventually emerges and the transaction takes place:

As we move away from Santiago, the houses and gardens become more prosperous-looking.

Wisteria:

Palms—note the stone bridge in the background:

Ivy covered turrets:

Dunno:

Entrance to an estate:

Tanya snitches some grapes, but truth be told, they were a bit too tart to eat:

Our hotel advertises A LOT as we approach Negreira:

Our expectations are, fortunately, low, as opposed to the shopping center where they were high and unmet! The room boasts a TV:

And, in case one needs a fill-up, a gas station is right across the busy street:

But the beer dispenser is a definite draw:

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Location:Santiago to Negreira

It POURED during the night and rained all day, which put a damper (yeah, not so funny) on our activities for the day. Despite the weather, Tan and I decided to get our “compostela.” (Ian did not feel like filling out the required information), so…. we had to find the office that issues the certificate that attests to our having completed the walk. It is like a little university diploma, in Latin and everything! And it is free except that donation boxes are strategically placed, plus, it costs a euro for the cardboard tube in which to put it, so maybe not exactly free. Oh–to EARN your “compostela,” you have to present your “passport,” a little booklet purchased at the beginning of the walk, and which you have to have stamped at every town in which you stop.

On our way to the pilgrim office, we saw this dog, which, like another dog we saw several times, was walking with his person (a very strange person, whose picture I really wanted to take, but it seemed too rude). Anyway, the poor dog seemed tired, and why he was wearing only half a pair of booties, is anyone’s guess:

After taking a good look at the cathedral–I am not even going to attempt a description, but let that not deter you from looking for some images on line. Truly, it is beyond beyond all—anyway, after that, we took a taxi to a Corte Inglés where we looked around for an hour or so.

Taking advantage of their gourmet shop, I bought some delicious items for dinner. First, a piece of cheese, then some King Solomon (yes!!) dates:

and a huge peach:

The guy assured me that these were the best peaches in all of Spain. That would not be a difficult promise to make because the few I have tried up to now have been throw aways.

Walnuts and a most tasty roll bought from a very old, very little lady in a very small shop, and a drink rounded out the meal, every bite a treat.

After our look-around, there was still a bit of afternoon left, so we took another cab to “The Commercial Center,” advertised as having 150 shops, movie theaters, and food courts. Our expectations were high!

It was a very strange place, almost abandoned. Maybe a dozen stores at most were open. So much for the expectations.

There were a few objects of interest, for example, this fat man:

just as “wow-ing” from the rear:

And a big, sad woman:

This shopping/commercial center was surrounded by buildings that were actually part of the complex. We could not determine whether they were apartments or what:

It wasn’t so bad for a rainy day!

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Location:Rúa de Ourense,Santiago de Compostela,Spain

Monday, October 14, our trusty taxi driver turns up at the appointed hour of 7:45 a.m. to transport us back to San Payo where we continue heading west to complete the last few (let’s say ten, although it was ever so slightly less) to Santiago.

It was still dark, but surprisingly, not cold, when our boots hit the track:

A fair section of the walk was quite pretty:

Some sections, not quite so much:

Icons of urbanization begin to appear:

We continue on, every step bringing us closer:

But when the little red man indicates, “Stop.” We wait:

Making our way through the city:

A true, ahem, peregrino:

We have seen many many many churches but here is the first priest, we have sighted:

A piper (who played the same four bars over and over) and his dog welcoming walkers…..

on their way to the cathedral, whose hugeness is such that I cannot really take a photo of any merit at all:

Five hundred miles from St. Jean-Pied-de-Port:

and not tired.

We have lunch in an elegant restaurant, the walls of which are lined with fabulous carvings:

and sculptures stand in nooks:

Upholstered sofas and chairs and an art exhibit enhance the ambience:

Then we head outside to take in some of the sights:

No idea who or what, but lots of these sorts of scenes:

I overheard a visitor say that this august personage, now honored in the courtyard de la Universidad de Santiago, was a mathematician, but couldn’t find out a thing about him:

A pedestal, flowers, and balcony:

and a grand colonnade:

Espying or espied?!

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Last night we made a decision. That was about the most momentous task in which we have engaged these many weeks, since our days are devoted to walking and eating and thinking about where to eat next or where to go to buy food. What we decided was that we would walk further than our designated destination (Rua), take a taxi back to Rua, taxi back to the further point Monday morning, and have a super short walk to Santiago, the more time to spend there, since, inter alia, there is not much to do elsewhere.

To accomplish this, we had to leave early, usually not a problem, but our hotel host did not serve el desayuno until 8:00 a.m., which did not fit nicely with our plan. However, he provided us a voucher, allowing us to take our morning tostadas down the street at a panadaría, a las siete. Muy bien.

Off we started on a pleasant, cloudy morning, and then, several miles into our walk, Ian noted that he had not seen a single taxi. Hmmm…on the stretch from León, taxis have been sighted con frequencia. Aha! It is domingo, Sunday; we may not be able to get a taxi to ferry us back to Rua from some point beyond. We must improvise.

We arrive at our hotel before noon, Ian and Tan have a coffee outside, and I am left to sort things out. Who should happen to be at our digs at the same time we are? A luggage delivery guy who is drinking a beer. He realizes our plight—with some help from the guy behind the bar–and agrees to transport us to San Payo, from whence we will walk back. That arrangement never sees daylight because the driver has room for only two in his vehicle, and after his who-knows-how-many-beers, this was not too disappointing. It took many phone attempts, but at last the barkeep-Jack-of-all-to-do, contacts a taxi driver who is willing to drive on a Sunday (for an extra fee).

Off we go and back we walk. The cost of our extra five or so miles was five euros a piece.

While walking, we see this note on a wall:

Shortly before arriving, we hit some rain, but it was nothing compared to the downpour we missed just after arriving!

Rain gear drying:

Hoping we won’t need it tomorrow for our grand entrance into Santiago!

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Location:Arzua to San Payo

We are so seasoned to walking that we complete 18.66 miles and are not even tired by day’s end. That the weather has been superb is a factor, of course, but still….!

We leave Palas del Rei at about 8:15; the birds are up—see them on the tower, and one, on the right, flying away?

The day’s walk is mostly along woodland track:

Of course!

We have seen a few of these woven huts with thatched roofs. What they are for, no idea:

Heather and gorse:

Here come the sheep:

They’re coming closer:

And there goes the ass:

This cow is making lots of milk…

Convinced?

Cyclists crossing a bridge of flat stones:

And through the woods, the cavalry cometh!

Posters like this are ubiquitous. (Note the display of desserts at the bottom.) They can save a lot of explaining:

Another irresistible, tiny wndow with the sweetest little curtain:

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Somewhere along the 16.5 gorgeous miles we walked today, we passed the 100 kilometers-to-Santiago point. It is all more impressive in kilometers, isn’t it? Anyway, we decide it is a photo-worthy moment:

Several times we noticed narrow structures, built of different materials, all the same shape, and sometimes with crosses, like this one with brick facing:

Wait, this one is more interesting:

What could they be? Perhaps a burial place for ancestors or a shrine of some sort. No, they are for storing maize, or at least that was their original purpose.

In places, the landscape was reminiscent of the Yorkshire Dales:

Perhaps even more convincing?

But then we see this and know that, no, not the Yorkshire Dales:

There were moments that made one feel as if this could be the Cotswald Way:

But then a corrective would bring us back to Galicia:

Like fall in Connecticut?

Uhhhh…no:

Very pretty all the same:

There were areas of huge trees:

and of many trees:

and tall, flat stones used as fence posts:

Garbage service needed:

A popular memorial in the mist:

At our rest stop, we spy a man wearing a hat decorated with flowers. Tanya asks if he would mind being photographed. He went one better! “With the lady?” So, yes! With the lady! Meet Joe, a fine fellow from Bavaria!

Oh, those yellow arrows, along with Ian’s uncanny sense of direction, have kept us from going astray, and for both we are, many times over, grateful:

An arrow of painted shells, is especially terrific:

The bridge into Portomarin is very high:

and long:

Immediately upon arrival, we headed for a restaurant. It was about 2:00, so we were ready for anything. The first place we saw advertised itself as being Italian and offered pizza. Peppe’s? Sally’s? Modern? How ridiculous to expect brick oven en España, but what we got was round and edible, bore a superficial resemblance to “a pie,” and filled us up.

In Portomarin, we were put up in a hotel with a fancy fancy lobby, but the beds had plastic covered mattresses and lumpy, plastic covered pillows! Everything squeaked, which negated the fancy factor.

We left Portomarin by way of an impressive staircase:

Our 16.91 mile walk to Palas de Rei had a lovely beginning along paths through woods, but most was tedious track walking beside roads. However, we did have a surprising and outstanding lunch.

At about 1:45, as we drew near to a cafe, Tanya noted that there were several cars in front, so, she deduced, and rightly so, if people are going to drive here to eat, the food is likely to be good. Yes!

For a first course, she and Ian had a hot cream of vegetable soup served in low, glazed, clay bowls, and I had grilled vegetables, which were delicious. For the second, we all ordered the chicken strew, which turned out not to be a stew but tiny, and I mean tiny tiny tiny whole roasted chickens, so so tender and tasty.

So there we were, middle of the day (according to the Spanish timetable), having walked about fifteen miles, Tanya and Ian sharing a bottle of wine, all of us feeling quite marvelous that we could interrupt our walking to enjoy so exquisite a meal, beautifully served, before heading off to reach our destination.

Continuing toward Palais del Rei, we discovered that Spain can boast some gigantic worker ants:

But, gee, no climbing on las hormigas:

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Location:Sarria to Portomarin to Palas del Rei

Brrr….it was a cold and misty morning, but we were off by 8:15 to accomplish our 12.5 miles and thus arrive by early afternoon in Sarria, a city of special significances: 1) a lot of people, known as pilgrims, do only the last 100 K of the walk; for them Sarria is the starting point, it being about 115 K from Santiago. OK, for us this is not so special. But 2) Some of our travel literature promised antique shops at this destination. After roaming huge markets selling shmattahs and souvenir shops selling tchatchkies, we were so up for antique shops! To kill the suspense I will tell you we never found any.

How are we doing, now over 400 miles into our trek?

A slice of the morning landscape:

Sweet….

Water drops or lace?

The walking was pretty, but the weather was slightly too cold and damp to be comfortable, so when we came upon a place to stop, about an hour before our destination, we gladly took advantage. Cafe con leche, perfectly hot and a huge slice of almond tart, a specialty of the area, were utterly delicious to the last crumb:

Tanya lingers over her coffee:

A pig in a shop window in Sarria:

King Alphonso IX. Is he stern or what?

I was somewhat concerned about our

because it was at the bottom of the hotel list for the city, but it was surprisingly decent. No rustic touches or charming design features, but an elevator, spacious, sunny rooms, and walls thicker than paper. We are perfectly satisfied.

The shower-clothes washing-document shifting, all part of the robotic daily cycle go fast, and we head out in search of sustenance so that we will be full of energy to attack the never-to-be-found antique shops.

Remember him?

Well, this is him for lunch:

I am less adventurous:

Maybe they “all look the same,” but the church bell towers are ever lovely to look at:

What did this guy do to deserve that?

There was less to investigate in Sarria than we expected or discovered, so we hit the supermarket to buy supplies for an eat-in dinner. No complaints!

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Location:Triacastela to Sarria

14 miles.

A sculpture titled, “Oy, why am I doing this?”

Sweet:

Doggums:

Fortunately, this ferocious barker was chained up:

All that ham, but where are the pigs? Finally, we see a few:

Cow with flies:

A roadside stand:

Not many takers so far:

Kiwi, not yet ripe:

We have arrived:

As as we were strolling down the street (for all intents and purposes, there is only one street on which to stroll) contemplating where to have dinner, who should arrive into town….

It is not the cavalry, but a group of Spaniards doing part of El Camino por caballo! What a sight!

My room for tonight:

No, that is across the street. This is the room:

All places have their +s and -s. Casa David has a strong wi-fi connection for which you do not need a contraseña (password) and clothes lines. We are gladly taking advantage of both!

For the record, Triacastela does not have three castles, at least not any more.

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Location:OCebreriro to Triacastela