Camino: Santiago to Barcelona

We got up reasonably early to get our 7:15 a.m. taxi to the airport.  I realized that the taxi driver was retracing some of the same path we took a couple of days earlier when we walked into Santiago and past the runway end lights.  

 The Vueling flight to Barcelona was uneventful, except the weather report from the cockpit: about 18 degrees and heavy rain storms.  It sounds like the rains we had on the Camino have very slowly moved east, and are now settled above Barcelona.  

 Indeed, once we got off the airport bus at Plaza Catalunya, it was a very wet but short walk to the Hotel Colon, facing the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia, or Barcelona cathedral.

Hotel Colón, Barcelona

The heavy rain argued against anything but a visit to the Cathedral, one of our favorites in any case.  It’s hard to beat the towering ceiling, the many chapels around the perimeter, the detailed carvings on the choir stalls, and the cloister with 13 white geese. Unfortunately, they’ve gone over to electric votive candles inside the cathedral, and the dour little lady right beside the door who sold candles for so many years is gone too. We lingered over chapels dedicated to the patron saint of lawyers, Ramon or Raymond, and Saint Rita, the patroness of lost causes.

Cathedral of Barcelona

It seemed time to search out some lunch, but it was really pouring down.  I broke down and bought a nine Euro umbrella in a shop, thankful that the shopkeeper did not try to extort some extravagant sum in these conditions.  We dropped into one of the first places we came to, Taller de Tapas, on La Rambla.  We were lucky to get a table, and enjoyed a Sobrasada (Majorcan sausage cured with paprika) tortilla and calamari in aioli.

Santa Maria del Mar

We wandered as far as Santa Maria del Mar Church, where we happened upon a Spanish society wedding.  The bride and groom were unknown to us, although he was movie-star handsome, but some of the guests were notable politicians.  I recognized Jordi Pujol among others.  Lots of very pretty young Spanish girls were there in their finest designer clothes, getting pretty wet in the rain outside the church door -- as rose petals were thrown and the newlyweds were driven away in an ancient cream-colored Rolls Royce.

Our first choice restaurant was “complete” for a Saturday night, so we accepted the hotel concierge’s suggestion of Neyras Restaurant nearby. (Marcia said she was “tired of tapas.”)  The presentation was elegant with beautiful table settings and dramatic lighting, and the service was Spanish “stylish,” meaning leisurly but elegant. I was quite happy with my lentils and anchovies salad and the long sought arroz negro.  But I have to agree with Marcia that the food was merely good, not outstanding. 

And while we enjoyed the pianist for the first hour, there was no call for a couple of flamenco dancers to arrive from somewhere south of Seville. I mean, we’re in Catalonia, for goodness sake.

P.S. Because of the rain, all these photos are courtesy of Flickr

Camino: Santiago

After so many days of getting up and walking most of the day, it felt really lazy to be getting up after eight o'clock for a nine o’clock breakfast in Hotel As Artes.  We are to meet the group in front of the Parador at ten for a tour of the Cathedral and nearby surroundings. 

Margareiña is a really good guide, and she put a lot of her own personal life story into the tour.  Some of this lore we already knew, especially Marcia, who has been studying Santiago faithfully for several days.  But, we learned more from Margareiña.  

Botafumeiro replica in shop window

Her tour ended a few minutes before twelve noon when the Pilgrim Mass began in the Cathedral, by then well packed with pilgrims and tourists filling the pews, sitting on the floor and standing on all sides.

I got in place just before the service started, and Marcia had already found a spot on the other side of the north transept.  A good location was key, because Margareiña had warned us that her sources said the botafumeiro would indeed swing today.

The mass began with several representatives of groups reading salutations on the occasion of their having completed the Camino and being there.  I had just about tuned out these canned speeches when I noticed a woman said “we represent the people who transport more people around the world every day than any other form of public transportation.”  That caught my ear! Then she continued, saying “we the people of Otis Corporation…” Talk about product placement!

Anyway, the bishop who led the service next began by asking prayers for the souls of two pilgrims, one German and the other from Palencia, who died on the Camino yesterday.  He then went on to welcome by name several church-related, youth and religious groups which had completed the Camino.  Then he continued, welcoming pilgrims by country by country, citing which city they had begun their pilgrimage from, and working his way down from furthest away starting point to closest.  So we got mentioned as “the pilgrims from the United States who began their walk in Ponferrada.”

The bishop gave a nice sermon that talked about the Camino being not so much a goal in itself, but more as way to find what is important in life, a way to take time to find yourself, and a way to enhance one’s own Christianity.  At one point he quoted a Spanish poet who said something like “the important thing is not how fast you run the path, but the journey itself.”  The service ended with communion, an offering, and an exchange of “Peace be with you” greetings among the congregation. 

Then, while the bishop explained how the next action is a tradition unique to this cathedral and is meant to symbolize the new spirit that infuses the people who have completed the Camino, several men in brown robes moved into position.  They formed up around the square wooden platform that is on the other end of the rope to the botafumeiro suspended from the ceiling on a series of pulleys. Another walked in with a brazier of hot coals, and before long they had it lit.

The group of about eight or ten strong men then began to work the rope while another started the botafumeiro  swinging.  With each swing they got it to go higher and wider, until it was virtually at a 90 degree angle at the top of the swing. It put out great streams of incense that filled the church with a nice odor. Eventually they brought it to a stop, and with a final prayer, the service ended.

Those of us who signed up for the Michelin one-star restaurant met by the Parador again, and then headed down that street to Casa Marcelo, showcase home to famed chef Marcelo Tejedor.  When we went in at 1:30 p.m., we were about the first people to arrive. The efficient young woman who did all the order taking and serving brought us iPads with the restaurant’s two degustacion menus displayed – one at 45 Euros with four courses, and another with nine courses at 75 Euros.  The iPad also provided the wine list, from which we selected a reasonable red wine, a tempranillo. 

The meal began with a cream of celery soup that had been foamed, perhaps from a siphon – it was heavenly. That was followed by a merluza (hake) that was so tender and perfect – perhaps one of the best I’ve ever had.  The last course, a seared rare tuna was excellent, but perhaps less challenging.  The dessert was pff pastry with vanilla bourbon cream. Fortunately our server was also very accommodating about running five separate Visa cards through her machine – it worked out to about 51 Euros per person.

Breads and pastries

 In the afternoon Marcia and I walked around and did a bit of shopping in a leather store and looking at other shop windows.  Not only is the presentation artistic and attractive, but you suddenly realize that despite the fact you're in the city center you have not seen a single chain store -- no Gap, no Banana Republic, no Benetton -- none of the omnipresent American or European logos and signs.  

Leather products

I searched for and bought a small leather change purse -- not exactly the design I had wanted, but it will serve.  Besides, the one they had was green, and the craftsman said, "No problem" when I asked about one in brown.  She simply dyed and dressed the leather in brown and buffed it while we waited.  

Hat shop

And, the hat shop on Rua do Vilar caught our eye with their stacks and stacks of red hat boxes from London.  Nothing would do but I must have a txapela, that is, a Basque beret.  The shopkeeper was a hoot: a little lady with very direct opinions.  When I began to debate whether I'd prefer the 20 Euro model or the 26 Euro model, she brusquely intervened, "The cheaper one will serve you just as well." 

We also looked in on a small workshop where ladies were doing lace work by hand, as well as specialty food and wine shops.  Marcia gave thought to searching for genuine saffron or pimenton, but we never found an open store that sold them.

About eight o’clock we met some of the group to go in search of tapas.  Marcia led us to the best vinoteca in Santiago (according to Alex and several guidebooks), one called O Beiro, but our group had too many disparate interests to continue there.  Some were looking for a sit-down restaurant and menu situation, while others wanted coffee and ice cream.

There were several options.  Marcia suggested a tapas place where people could point at what they wanted.  Katie and Pat joined us for tapas and – with all the noise, crowding at the bar, the various plates, and the many wines and beers being served by young girls running back and forth – this may have been the most authentic Spanish tapas experience of the trip.

Hostal dos Reis Catolicos

We headed back to our hotel, stopping by the Concello on the Praza do Obradadoiro to listen to the tunas who were performing  “Guantanamera” for an appreciative post-dinner crowd.

We decided to see the inside of the Parador Hostal de los Reis Catolicos again by having a pacharan in the bar before retiring to our hotel for a last night in Santiago.

Camino: Lavacolla to Santiago

Hotel Ruta Jacobea

It was cloudy and dark when I awoke, and from the view out the window, I thought it might still be raining this morning.  No, it turned out to be a heavy fog that hangs like a damp wool blanket over Lavacolla and the Ruta Jacobea Hotel.  

I think everyone is excited. It’s game day!

We start off by turning the wrong way out of the hotel parking lot, but the group soon figures it out and we march off happily, under instructions to stay together. 

We walked out through some houses and soon find ourselves near the small stone church, Iglesia de Benaval, where a mass is underway.  There was some debate, but about half decided to wait for mass to end and seek a stamp.  Mass was blessedly short, but it turned out there was no stamp to be had. The woman told us to get it on Mont de Gozo.

Iglesia de Benayal

We walk uphill in the early morning freshness, past farms and houses with large gardens.  It is a beautiful morning -- clean and crisp air and the sun burning off the fog.  

 As we get higher, you notice the fog still hangs in the valleys.  We passed some nameless but very large office complexes before I realized that they must be the Television Espana and RTVE Galicia installations that Alex had mentioned.  We also stopped briefly for a stamp at a small bar that was serving coffee and beer to pilgrims.

Joe, Carl and I walked for a distance, telling stories and enjoying the cool but sunny morning. I had little sense of exactly where we were, but the yellow arrows continued to indicate the Camino.  Apparently the government of Santiago district does not mark the Camino as carefully with stone distance markers as the A Coruña authorities did.

At a corner there was a small souvenir stand with a sign promising a “sello.”  Carl got one, so I did too, both of us feeling guilty that we could not see anything to buy in compensation for the lady’s trouble. But she wished us a cheerful “Buen Camino!” nonetheless. And, she told me it was just 400 meters to the Mont de Gozo. 

Monte de Gozo

And sure enough, there at the top of the hill in the sunshine by the big abstract art statue, were Alex and Cate with torta de Santiago cake and Aquarius juice for us before the descent.  We could not, however, see the spires of the Cathedral from here because of the heavy fog or clouds in the valley.

We went down through the large (800-person) albergue that was built to accommodate pilgrims during the last Jacabeo year in 2010.  We needed to use the facilities and take pictures with the “pilgrim looking at her feet” statue.

From here our path was pretty much down city streets as we crossed the bridge over the highway and entered Santiago proper.  There were scallop shells embedded in the sidewalks, and we passed a large modern sculpture arch that honored many historical and mythical figures who are thought to have walked the Camino, ranging from John Paul II (about 2 miles of it) to the writer Dante Allighieri.

Just as we began to enter the old city, I spotted Marcia waiting for me with Alex on a stone bench.  We all marched into the city together, taking pictures and video as we went.

The figures burning in flames on the front of the Church of the Passion (“Igrexa de Animas”)  caught my eye, as did the purple flowers in the courtyard of the Praza de Immaculada, but we kept moving forward. You now could glimpse the steeples of the cathedral from time to time as we passed between buildings.  The morning’s fog seems to have totally disappeared into a blue sky.

The main square, Praza de Obradeiro, suddenly opens. You’re walking down a side street and then you see the massive Hostal de los Reyes Catolicos on your right and the Consello in front. 


 Then, you look up to your left at the majestic Baroque front of the Cathedral with its towering steeples.  

Our group had strung out a bit, so we were not together, but each of us put a symbolic foot on the stone in the center of the plaza that marks the zero kilometer of the Camino.  (Now that you can’t put your hand in the place on the Puerto de Gloria where thousands of pilgrims before you put theirs -- it was wearing away the stone column and is now forbidden, except in the case of movie stars like Martin Sheen -- the stone in the plaza has taken its place.)  

I can’t remember if we took a group photo or not.  But, my GPS recorded that we did walk the last 8.05 miles of the Camino today, in just under three hours.

Alex wanted us to move right on over to the Pilgrimage Office to get signed in for our Compostella, the Latin-language document, each with the pilgrim’s name inscribed in Latin, that certifies that you made the trip.  The next day it became clear that the Cathedral uses this information to draw up the list of countries from which pilgrims arrived and the cities from which they began their pilgrimage. Alex wanted us to do this before the large crowd from the Cathedral’s noon mass came out and did the same thing.

We had a short wait on the stairs and then the staff there were very solicitous in taking down our information and providing the hand-lettered scroll. Gosh, think how many times they do this, day in and day out, with such cheerful good humor and efficiency. The DMV and TSA could learn from this.

In line at Pilgrim's Office

We moved over to a Restaurant A Curtidoria for lunch.  It turned out to be the same one Marcia had eaten in the day before.  I had a pasta dish putanesca sauce (olives, tomato and capers) followed by beef tenderloin. Dessert was fig ice cream, if I remember correctly.

We went to the Fresco hotel, Hotel Compostella, after lunch so I could retrieve my suitcase.  Marcia and I walked it across town to her hotel, As Artes, which was about a block from the Cathedral and well within earshot of the bagpipers and tunas who play for money in the main square. Then we kind of wandered around, taking pictures and Marcia showing me the features of the city where she has spent about three days before my arrival.

In the evening we walked across town to the market area, Los Abastos, to a new, fashionable restaurant (Abastos 2.0) run by young chef Manolo and his team.  Alex and the chef have cooked up the idea of a cooking demonstration based on the fresh foods that the chef found in the market that day, and the things he can do with them on the spot. We are, I think, the first group to do this.  We begin with razor clams (long and thin) which he cooks in boiling olive oil just a few seconds until they pop open – delicious!

He then moved on to things like a sushi-type of dish with Wasabi, clams, berberechos, and finally a Gallego comfort food of whipped – no, let’s say “foamed” – potatoes with chorizo and Arzúa cheese.  

 A feature of all this fine cooking is how much of it is done by hand and with extreme care – the sous-chef bending over the plates or the food, carefully placing individual ingredients just where they need to be.  The result is not only delicious but a work of visual art.

At this point we bid farewell to Alex and Cate, who have to begin a long drive back to Bilbao this evening.  Alex gave us all a CD of pictures he has taken on the trip, while Cate gave everyone a key chain with a yellow leather Camino arrow.

This was just the right kind of dinner after such a substantial lunch, but some did not want the day to end or want to turn in so early.  

 A few of us continued on the Camino Casino, a 1890’s style café – a sort of long and narrow bistro with tiled floors, wood paneled walls, and small round tables as well as some sofas along the walls. 

This was just about right for our group.  Some tried the soft, sweet pacharan, while others ordered coffee or wine or fiery orujo.