Today is our first
real day of
real walking.
We
gathered in the old main square of old Ponferrada at 9:00 a.m. and sorted
ourselves out. It seemed we would not need walking sticks today because much of
the trail is on roads or sidewalks and fairly level.
By 9:10 we were walking
out of Ponferrada, tracing a path down by the river Sill and up the hill by the
electric company museum (located in an old power station).
We passed the little Santiago replica chapel
and walked out through a residential district of nice homes with gardens and
flowers spilling from the balconies.
This was more like a stroll than a hike, and our line stretched out
about a kilometer, with John way up in front. We inevitably switched around,
walking and talking with first one person or two and then others. It was cool
and partly cloudy, so I only removed my sweater after an hour or so.
We stopped in our first town, Columbrianos, for coffee and a stamp in our
passports about 10:30.
There was an
ancient-looking “
ermita” there, but
it was closed up. (Alex says there’s enough theft that the churches in villages
are more often kept locked when no one is around.) We had a few drops of rain
as we walked through our second village, Fuentes Nuevas, and stopped in a
church that was giving out stamps.
I
should have gotten my stamp at the church instead of the coffee bar earlier
because the church ones are much prettier.
By noontime we were pretty much out in the country, walking past apple
orchards and fig trees. We walked through a town with factories, including a
large glass factory that once supplied material for the shiny facings of all
those tall, ultra-modern office buildings you see in Spanish cities.
The factory however seemed very quiet with no
cars around, and we thought it might have been a victim of the GFC (aka, Global
Financial Crisis, as the Europeans call the 2007-present unpleasantness).
All day we were passed by other pilgrims.
Most of them had full packs and shoes hanging off the back.
Usually they were in pairs, sometime two
guys, or a couple. Their pace did not seem much faster, but somehow they
steadily left us behind them.
I did not
think about it at the time, but our pace must have been a bit slow. Of course,
there were also the bicycle pilgrims who seemed to suddenly sneak up behind you
and then call out as they passed.
At kilometer 195 we passed a little house where three guys were squeezing
grapes. Asked about the
cosecha, they
said it would begin any day now.
They
were going to take a sample of the grapes (or maybe the grape juice) to the cooperative
for analysis to determine which day to begin.
They were good natured fellows, and they allowed us to take pictures,
try winding the press, and even to sample the light green grape juice that was
spilling out in a steady stream at the bottom.
We had a picnic lunch under plane trees just before Cacabelos town. Alex had
brought a good salad with cheese and chorizo, as well as cookies and melon (the
one that looks like a honeydew but is much more tasty).
Piel de sapo melons have a super-sweet flavor with a
juicy, honedew-like appearance. Piel de sapo literally translates to "Skin
of Toad
."
Suddenly, John jumped up and set off.
He was gone before any of the rest of us finished eating.
Maria explained that he had walked fast all
morning, gotten way ahead, but failed to get any stamps. So he was determined
to make up time. Or something.
We continued through Cacabelos, down narrow streets with bright flowers
hanging from the balconies and wood timbered houses.
We’re beginning to see bodegas and companies
involved in wine production.
We looked
into a stone building with lots of wine barrels and a tasting event in
progress, but did not stop.
Some looked
for a bathroom in La Moncloa – that is the restaurant famous in all the
guidebooks for giving a free glass of wine to any pilgrim who stops in and
says, in Spanish, the precise phrase “Do you have a cup of wine for a poor
pilgrim who is thirsty?”
Some of us
continued on. We found an
albergue on
the outskirts of town, built in a semi-circle and with clean restroom
facilities where Joe, Mary Ellen and I stopped briefly.
Then we began the long climb up the side of the highway to Pieros.
This was unremarkable, but for being steep
and hot in the afternoon sun, which had by now come out in force.
Alex and our driver met us at the top with
water.
Then assured we were nearing the
end with only about four miles to go, so we turned off the highway and into
vineyards.
We were walking on dirt roads with stones in them, clearly made for farm
vehicles.
It was up and down, sort of
rolling roads and passing through the occasional very small village. A number
of bicycle pilgrims passed us as we went up and down the hills. There were
vines on either side of us, and they were bright green and healthy-looking,
much better than the ones we saw before lunch.
The grapes were smaller, but heavy with juice and some bunches had even
fallen off the vine and lay on the reddish brown earth.
Once in a while there is a sign saying which
vineyard these vines belong to and which wines are produced from them.
Alex says that this Bierzo wine is the coming
fashion in Spain, and it is becoming more popular across Europe.
Finally we realized from the GPS that we were nearing Villafranca del
Bierzo.
At the top of a hill, Pat Brown
and I met Alex and Cate who had come up to meet us.
Cate showed us the way down to the plaza past
the Puerta de Perdon, where injured or sick pilgrims could ask for their
indulgences without having to complete the camino.
We learned that Lea had fallen and scraped
her knee, so we had one potential for the Puerta.
But Lea, being tough, refused the
dispensation and determined to carry on.
She has gotten some medical treatment by Maria.
In the plaza we stopped for a well-earned beer from the nearby bar that is offering
happy hour prices – a draft beer for one Euro.
We had done 15.8 miles in a little less than 6 hours, according to my
GPS.
We boarded the bus and returned to Pontferrada in about twenty minutes,
passing many of the sights we remembered from the day.
About half of us volunteered for the tour of
the Knights Templar castle, a spectacular heap of stone on the steep bank of
the Sill River. As castles go, it
puts
those showcase “castles” in the Loire valley in France to shame.
This one was really made for defensive
warfare, with battlements and drawbridges and opposed, angled towers that
forced attackers to turn 90 degrees if they ever successfully entered the first
line of defenses.
You could make great
movies here!
Dinner was in the Casa del Obrero, a cavernous, noisy hall where we were
seated at one end.
There seemed to be a
football game on the television at the other end of the hall. We had a seeming
endless number of plates and dishes, including lentil soup, pasta with chicken,
roast vegetables, and paella.
Then each
of us got a plate, in my case fish (
merluza)
stuffed with crabmeat.
Others had
chicken, veal or codfish.
Dessert was a
tray of white and black china spoons with chocolate and cheese cake covered in
whipped cream.
Quite a meal!
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