December 2016 – Page 2 – Walking without a donkey

Walking without a donkey - travels in Spain

Via de la Plata Camino – Day 7, Spain

Ourense to Xunqueira de Ambia 4.12.16. 22.2km

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Municipal gardens, Ourense.

Aim: to keep myself safe

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River Miño, showing the modern bridge and not the famous Ponte Vella, Roman bridge which Ourense is famous for.

I prepared a very careful hand-drawn map with directions from the internet yesterday evening, and struck out on my own at 9am, after a very slow start because I needed to buy a lead to charge my phone and it was a Sunday – would all the shops be shut? The night before I had been told there would be a ‘Chinese’ shop open, and wandering through the old city where bric-a-brac stalls were being set up for the flea market, this info was confirmed. But could I find one? No. Instead I saw a sign in a cafe for wifi and phone charging, and the kind barman used his own lead: the first of many bartenders to help me out this way.

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View of Ourense from the old Franciscan Monastery, now the municipal albergue for peregrinos (those who are walking the Camino).

It was a long walk out of the city, made worse by my tendency to distrust the people I asked for directions. In the meantime I found first a ‘Chinese’ shop and bought a phone lead, and secondly the hot baths I had been told about. They look like a surreal, steaming, swimming pool right in the centre of the city replete with people in rubber hats. I made a promise to myself that I would return to bathe there one day.

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Surreal, steamy baths.

The next part of the day’s walking was a long slog on tarmac through the industrial area, but I was very glad not to get lost, and it was at least all flat.

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Stops: a coffee at lunchtime in a bar opposite a temporary street stall selling plates of pulpo (purple and white octopus) and potatoes, which were then eaten by Spanish couples in the bar, washed down with red wine. Happily, I was able to buy fresh bread to take away.

As the chemical smells receded, I walked through a residential area with the familiar vegetable gardens and spotted a well, not more than 5 paces from the front door right on the edge of the street and stopped to photograph.

Railway lines crossed: 3 times. Surely this can’t be right, despite the yellow arrows clearly showing me the way? No trains in sight – perhaps they don’t run on a Sunday.

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Chapel Sta Agathe.

I scrambled down the bank and round the corner and discovered the little church of Saint Agatha on the hill behind the railway lines. In the sun, the simplicity and calm of the stone structure set in green grass was refreshing.

Until, that was, I dipped into my pocket for my map and it wasn’t there. Yes, I decided that I really did need it as I had no other way to know my way. I hadn’t met a single other pilgrim on route that day, and though locals are keen to help there aren’t many to be found in the wilder parts. So I took off my rucksack, and retraced my steps, back over the railway line, until I found my scraps of paper by the well I had photographed 20 minutes earlier. Thank goodness.

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Nearly half way.

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The rest of the day was picturesque in parts…

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…with unexpected delights.

As always there was a steep climb up from the river to the village at the end of the day. Alarmingly, I had to walk through and out the other side and only then arrived at the albergue to find it deserted.

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So I removed my boots and socks, found myself a bed, had a cold shower (to be fair they had a problem and the plumber was there early the next morning), and settled in with my bread and cheese before a cyclist appeared. I discovered the next morning that he was from Seville, with a computer job, had ridden 70km that day, and had a handy GPS. Kindly, he spent time letting me draw a map from it for the day’s walk – such a lucky break.

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Did I keep myself safe? Well, I didn’t get seriously lost; and it was a good call to go back and look for my map because I needed it. On the other hand I walked for miles along very busy roads with no pavements; and I think that was the first time in my life I have roamed along and over train tracks. I survived another day walking a considerable distance alone with my rucksack, and arrived safely. so let’s leave it at that. Plus I got another good picture of a donkey!

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Walking without a donkey - travels in Spain

Via de la Plata Camino – Days 4-6, Spain

Day 4 – Laxe to Castro Douzon 1.12.16 19 km

Doorbells rung to ask the way, and tractors stopped for the same reason: 1 of each.

Items of clothing lost: 3 – all necessary for the cold weather.

Doing T’ai Chi in the garden of the albergue before we leave is bitterly cold due to the unusual cold wind, especially as I lost my gloves and thermal leggings yesterday. We were high up in Castro Douzon. There are swimming pools for adults and children though, and a playpark, so it must be lovely in summer.

Today there was a lot of walking by busy roads with no pavements, which was hard on the feet, and less scenic. There were, however, great vistas from the top after a good, steep climb: layers of purple and blue hills in the distance, bright green fields, terracotta and stone villages, and matching trees.

Descending into valleys, we discovered solid bridges over gleaming azure streams, reflecting the sky, which were full of vibrant green weed.

And we talked about women’s rights; pensions; how to say ‘kiss’ in different languages; and swapped information about our 3 cultures – Maroc, French and British.

Spain autumn 2016 phone 3982 (640x360) — The two women from Seuil who I was walking with. The older was brilliant at finding the way.

The local people kindly stopped and told us we were going the wrong way, and pointed helpfully in the direction of Santiago de Compostella. So we all learned to say that ‘no, we were walking ‘contrario’ towards Seville’, in Spanish. They also offered useful information like where and what to eat, and who serves the best ‘pulpo’ (octopus, the local delicacy – delicious when tender).

Weather: The sun shone but it was colder. There was the usual hard frost as we left in the morning.

Once we had arrived after our days walk, we got our credentials stamped and paid our dues, thankfully removed our boots, hobbled to the dormitory to choose a bed and showered. Later, after visiting the local supermarket for supplies (flour, milk, eggs and sugar for crêpes; sachets of chocolate powder and of course pasta for the youngster; a tin of mussels and a sachet of olives for me), I visited the bar to catch up with family and friends no longer walking with me. The bar is owned by the same family and buying a tea (€1.20) allowed me to sit there for more than an hour without any suggestion of buying more. It’s only when I was given a lot of free crisps that I thought I ought to order a small beer to make up for my second hour!

There were similarities between the two hostels – both had unexpectedly hot showers – bliss! Neither had working wifi. Both offered one blanket per person, and had heating, so our clothes and towels were dry by morning. Both had kitchens with utensils, and we could choose when to have the lights on or off. I’m getting used to the fact that there are always good things to be happy about.

Day 5 Castro Douzon to Cea. 2.2.16. 13.7 km

Bites sustained: at least 100 overnight including 16 on my face.

Other pilgrims: 3 men and a dog. A good story of a 100% blind man who is walking his second Camino. The guide dog learns the scent of the/another walker going the same way, and then tracks the smell and can lead his master on the right path. These Caminos can be incredibly complicated – in the middle of forests there are very often places with 4 options; the country path regularly crosses the busy main N routes with lorries driving at top speed; villages can have very small, winding streets leading between farm buildings; and there are times when fully sighted people are searching for a yellow arrow here and the blue/yellow Camino shell there for a good while before finding the way, so I am really impressed.

Units alcohol:0

Beautiful weather – lovely to sit outside for our morning coffee as well as on arrival at Cea when I fell asleep in the sun and dreamed.

During the days walk we moved through landscapes of assorted pines, chestnut, silver birch, oak, and eucalyptus; broom, brambles, gorse with gay yellow flowers, heather, and bracken.

Pink, yellow and blue houses, many of them like huge mansions, which I am told are for extended families, have balconies and balustrades, big and small, and statues in the gardens. There are cows, sheep, horses and of course donkeys out the back.

Every dwelling has a ‘huelta’, a vegetable garden, which at this time of year had turnips, and really tall brassicas which looked like sprout plants with huge leaves at the top but no actual sprouts. Plus the odd red pepper still gleaming in the sun, a few left-over tomatoes dangling, and sharp-cornered patches of dry stalks now the sweetcorn has finally been cut. Vines are domestic and hang from structures which double as terrace rooves.

DSC_0032_3 (640x360) — Where the maize is traditionally stored over winter so animals and the cold do not damage it.

DSC_0021_4 (640x360) — The remains of the maize still in the fields.

There are more dogs than I had ever seen in one place – usually on the end of a chain or rope and barking their heads off at our approach. My companions loved them all and attempted to talk to and pet them despite the rumpus! In Finnistere a week ago they seemed to run wild around the town, crossing and re-crossing roads and unaware of danger, but here they were mostly behind fences protecting property.

Spain autumn 2016 phone 4052 (640x360) — Old stone buildings.

The simple churches, mostly with a single tower and bell, are always to be found amongst the houses, however small the village, and sometimes on their own in the countryside. Many have fancy cemeteries adorned with colourful flowers, real and plastic, and ornate grills. Often there’s a stone cross or statue nearby.

Cea is one of the prettiest towns I’ve been to. As with so many places, there are abandoned properties, but here there were also many places with interesting pasts, a wide array of shops, banks and cafés etc, a large central square, and old and new architecture. All the places I have walked in are clean and well-kept, and here there were red and white geraniums and the most ornate house number/name tiles.

Day 6 Cea to Ourense 3.12.16 23.3 km

This was a hard day. When I walked there were times of joy, prompted by the beautiful scenery, or the sun on my skin, or the sheer pleasure of putting one foot in front of another. There were also times when this wonderful opportunity to reflect on the past, examine the present, and deliberate on the future raised myriad emotions. They passed with the movement, and there was space for tears, but it was definitely not always easy. This was one of the reasons I chose to do this.

DSC_0003_8 (640x360) — Coming into Ourense from the north.

Luckily today was particularly beautiful and that helped with the processing.

Walking without a donkey - travels in Spain

Via de la Plata Camino – Days 1-3, Spain

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28-30.11.26

Direction Santiago de Compostella towards Salamanca, contrario. Usually people walk towards Santiago but I was already there and needed to get to Madrid, so I decided to take the other direction. As someone recently said, my life doesn’t seem to be simple!

Day 1 – Santiago de Compostella to Outeiro. 28.11.16. 20km.

Aim: to walk into my new future

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Pilgrims leave homespun crucifixes and other mementoes beside a bridge over the motorway very near to Santiago.

Stops on the way: none

Got lost: I lost count. Extremely difficult to follow the Way backwards.

Flagged down van: once. Possibly dangerous as female alone.

Fell over: once, followed by ‘happy’ hour needling the gorse thorns out.

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Beautiful views

Other pilgrims I met: 5. Two going my way, including another French person from Brittany. Are all Bretons as kind, generous, and positive as these? If yes, I am going to live there so it rubs off on me!

Today’s topics: loss, shame. There’s a lot of time to reflect, that’s part of the benefit. And as I walk there’s an increasing sense of perspective bought about by moving forwards through the countryside, and through time.

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Colexiata de Sar

Weather: so hot I walked in vest and short trousers.

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Mountains in the distance

Units alcohol: zero

Lesson learned: I often don’t know whether I will be going up or down hill. Metaphorically speaking, this is a useful life lesson. If I focus on the place where I am, I am best placed to deal with what happens next.

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The landscape is different from the Camino Francés

Day 2 – Outeiro to Bandera 29.11.16. 18km

Aim: Hoping that speaking 3 different languages a day will keep the dementia at bay.

Stops: yes, breakfast of coffee and eggs on toast to make up for the lack of facilities at the Xunta of Gallicia municipal albergue. Also for heat!

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Early morning light

Got lost: only 1 small detour because I sensibly tagged along with someone who’s walked it 4 times, albeit in the ‘right’ direction.

Didn’t flag down any vans, nor did I fall over.

Other pilgrims: 1 Italian pilgrim, one Spanish, heading for Santiago.

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Pines and peaks

Today’s topics: anger and responsibility

Weather: hard frost, deep fog, hot sun

Units alcohol: 0

Lessons learned: don’t lose your temper with the person who can help you.

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Fog sits in the valleys making for a magical view

I am woken rudely from a dream by my alarm. I can’t remember it at all, after being awake on and off all through the night. My hand is sore from yesterday’s fall. T’ai Chi helps!

Last night the lights went off and we were disorientated in immediate total darkness, without warning, at 10pm. Now they come on equally suddenly at 7am, as we 3 sleep in a 16 person dormitory, and off again at 8am before the sun is even close to rising. Good thing I have packed my rucksack so often I can do it in the dark.

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Still some Autumn colours but it’s nearly winter

There’s no heating and the showers are less than luke-warm, despite it being late in the year. With no utensils in the kitchen it is nearly impossible for me to heat water or drink tea, but one of my companions kindly lends me a pan, and she was also polite enough to the woman who looks after the albergue, (who eventually turns up after 2 hours and 2 phone calls) that we get given 3 small plastic cups. Can’t get the wifi to work, the power sockets don’t seem to charge my phone, and obviously I can’t wash things through as usual because they won’t dry. For the first time I had to wear my thermal underwear inside my sleeping bag, so it’s not my favourite hostel. The thing is I have been spoiled rotten recently with hot baths, delicious fish, and a picnic given to me by a kind friend that morning. It’s a really hard place to be, even if it is clean, safe and only €6.

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Morning is breaking

So we create our own generosity, we 3 sharing tea bags, the pan, helping with holes in the knitting, and huddling under our sleeping bags while we write our letters.

The shells from the beach at Finnistere, and the precious gifts I received, add to the weight of my rucksack, so I ditch the ridiculous skirt and tights I bought in Madrid for a special occasion, together with body lotion I now have no need for.

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A stone pilgrim in front of the Iglesia de Santiago de Taboada

Day 3 – Bandera to Laxe. 30.11.16. 17km.

Aim: to have no aim

Stops: pre-prepared food and a swing in a children’s park in Silleda

Got lost: no!

Fell over: no! I have a baton now, new to me, and it helps with my occasionally sore left hip. My right hand is empty.

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Ponte Romano

Cars, lorries and vans flagged down, bars and shops visited to ask for directions: loads and loads

Other pilgrims: yes, we are 6 in the albergue: 3 men and 3 women – French, German, Swiss, Spanish, and me

Today’s topic: learning to accept other people’s decisions

Weather: straight into the sun at 8.30am (now on my right, whereas it was always on my left when walking the Camino Francés), though possibly less heat

Units alcohol: none

Lessons learned: travel with experienced walkers wherever possible, if they’ll have you. Like gold dust they are! We sing Frère Jaques in a round.

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The viaduct over the Rio Deza

Language is an ever important issue for me as I switch backwards and forwards from French (with my companions in real life and in my head with those I no longer walk with); to Spanish (in shops and at the albergues); to English if I am lucky enough to get wifi and talk to family and friends of an evening. So I discover that I must speak simply or I can’t be understood. This means I can’t say what I want, discussing nothing complicated like politics or ethics, and waiting for others to tell me things rather than asking or anticipating.

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Ancient pathway

Then there’s the issue of understanding – turns out that I sometimes think I know but it turns out later that I was wrong. And. Even if I do know what someone has said, they are at liberty to change it, or they might forget what they already said and feel differently, and so say something else. Indeed, my interpretation of what they mean, even if I understand the words, is not necessarily what they do mean. Actually, I reflect, you never really know what other people mean.

We walk for an hour in silence everyday which is a refreshing chance to calm my mind.

Collecting herbs from the wayside for my tisane.

I’m beginning to forget I’m a Shiatsu practitioner. I’ve got the longest finger nails I’ve had in 28 years of practice. I’m very careful when I give my 16 year old friend some Japanese hand massage in the evening. Luckily it’s her first time and she said she loved it.

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I finish the first 3 days of the Via de la Plata remembering the smells of farm manure and chemicals, and the sounds of the leaves falling.

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Day 4 – Laxe to Castro Douzon 1.12.16 19 km

Day 5 Castro Douzon to Cea. 2.2.16. 13.7 km

Day 6 Cea to Ourense 3.12.16 23.3 km

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