Day Forty Six: Astorga to El Acebo: Unexpected emotion

May 12, 2017

We implemented our clever plan to beat the mountain, rain, and other pilgrims by getting up at five. We soon made our coffee and hot chocolate, ate bread and jam prepared byDodie the night before, yogurt, and out the door.

It was still pretty dark, so we used rear flashers, and peered into the gloom to spot the yellow arrows that mark the way. Soon we were passing through tiny villages, like Santa Catalina de Somoza and El Ganso, that impressed with their uniform ancient looking stone construction. These villages are partof an area known as Maragateria, which comprises 44 villages in total. The Maragatos have their own cuisine and customs and are a separate race of unknown origin - maybe Phoenicians or even Berbers.

The road out of Astorga, with the walking path beside

The forecast flat out rain did not materialize. All we had were intermittent showers. This still required rain gear, and all the walkers had ponchos over their packs. This makes them look some some kind of hunchbacked camels. One walker, though, just had a backpack cover, and he was trying to use this to protect both a daypack and regular pack on his back. The cover had slipped down and was really protecting nothing. Dodie spotted this and went into action, getting the man to hold still while she hoiked the meagre cover over both packs. The older, Italian speaking man was I thought a bit impatient with this, and I was sure his stuff would soon be soaked as he did not seem imclined to maintain whatever Dodie had achieved with the cover.

Dodie read about a witch cult around here. Is this part of it?

Our next interaction with a walker was actually a stork. The storks are all up in nests, usually on church roofs. But this one was just walking by the path.

An unusual stork, that is not sitting on a nest on a church

We reached Rabanal before 9:00 a.m. Rabanal had been our target for the day, but this was ridiculous. With the weather still not too bad, we instantly decided to make a run for it, over the mountains, the Montes de Leon. However we first got our creanciale stamped at the municipal albergue. It looked very inviting, with the usual comfy sofas and tables. But inviting or not, we were out of there!

Inside the Alburgue - looks inviting, but we have places to go!

Our next walker interaction was with Chris and Ian Wright, from Liverpool. They were standing by the road where the walkers were crossing, and they called out some encouragement to us. I stopped to chat, and in fact as we continued one the road and they on the path, we could still call back and forth. We found that they had cycled this route before and now were walking it. They had also done a lot of other cycling, and understood some our other routes, like the Southern Tier or Pacific coast. They seemed surprised that we had not done LeJog. Talking to these 70/73 year olds with the British accent who had both walked and cycled I felt like I might be talking to Tricia and Ken Graham, the kiwis we have never met, but who we have followed on Crazyguy for five years. Chris and Ian cut out at Foncebadon, leaving us to tackle the mountain.

Ian and Chris - experienced adventurers. They may head to Nepal after strolling to Santiago

Moutain bikers invading the walking trail.

Foncebadon. The thatched roof is something special in this region.

Although thre is no denying that the road sloped up, or maybe up and up, I did not find the soul destroying switchbacks taking you up an almost vertical face, such as at St Jean. Dodie pedalled a fair bit, and despite some knee problems while pushing, seemed to go up quite handily.

Soon (fairly soon) the Cruz de Ferro came into view. while this is not quite the top of the mountain, it is the symbolic top. Here a simple cross rests ona wooden pole. But it iatop a pile of stones left by pilgrims to signify the unloading of their burden of sins. This is also the high point on the Camino, so if you have made it here, you have generally made it.

Dodie had taken the Camino, with its hills, as a personal challenge in the face of possibly growing disability, and she has done amazingly well The sight of the Cruz de Ferro was a very emotional thing for her. It's not just Dodie, though, Many of the rocks making up the pile bear messages from those who left them. And the pole is festooned with flags, shoes, notes, flowers. One man was standing for a long while with his head leaned on the pole. Another knelt in the pile of stones.

Dodie put her parents ashes at the base. They have been with us through all our travels.

One aspect of the ascent to this point that for some reason is not mentioned by any books or blogs is the amazing display of colourful heather (or heather like) plants all along. Although this was technically a rainly day and therefore we were in the low clouds a lot, I think this is actually a "cloud forest". I encountered this with Dodie's dad while trekking in Nepal - there, rhododendrons thrived in the clouds. Here, I think it is the heathers.

soon the sharp descent would begin. But first there was Monjarin. There seemed to be some sort of coffee and support, in a hut festooned with various kinds of memorabilia. Whatever it was, it gave the impression of a high mountain shelter. This was added to by a herd of alpine style cattle just along the way. And then there were the cloudy and misty views down towards valleys far below.

The Cicerone guidebook contains a sereious warniing about the danger to cyclists on the descent. I had swapped out Dodie's front brake pads yesterday to help be ready for this. I found that I had to hold on to the brakes continuously. Let go, and the bike would leap forward. I am sure that in five seconds without brakes it would not be possible to regain control. So we also stopped dead a few times, just to be in control, and also to let the wheel rims cool. This is a special problem with small wheels. It is always tempting to see just how hot the rims got - by of course touching them. So Dodie burnt two fingertips!

Cicerone resereves its sternest warning for passing through the village of El Acebo. They seem to have an issue with the cobbles that stud the street, noting that this has claimed cyclists' lives. We proceeded slowly through El Acebo, an incredibly picturesque and atmospheric village, not least because it was now time to find a place to stay. The first three tries - full! But we washed up at the shelter run by the local church. Like the rest of the town, it is in a rough stone building - so cool. The volunteer hospitaler greeted us with a warm handshake and immediately directed our bikes into a protected courtyard. He spoke Spanish, French, and English (at least) in that order, and French very well. So we could communicate perfectly, which was quite a relief.

Payment here is by donation. You are offered not only a bed but also supper and breakfast. We will shoot for a generous amount. Meanwhile it has been pouring outside, we hit it just right.

Our fellow pilgrims here are from a wide variety of countries. There are two Italian girls from Milan, a Japanese man, a lady from Germany, and so forth. I would (maybe) like to say I am sleeping with Anna from Poland, but actually it's only that she is in the next bunk. And besides, her husband is in the upper!

Stay tuned to see what that hospitaler makes for supper. Meanwhile we are plotting our next hop. It will position us to climb to O Cereibo the last acknowledged killer hill on the route.

The heathers were an amazing bonus for the ride here

People's heartfelt gestures at places like this, or at Lourdes, are moving. "Here I lay my sins at the foot of the cross"

Dodie place the ashes of Hilda and Walter. You can also partially see the man still with his head against the cross.

Some of the things people have placed on the cross

Steve deposits his little stone (brought from the Pyrenees) symbolic of dropping his sins here. It was a very tiny stone, because (Steve says) he is without sin.

Alpine cows add to the impression that we are on a mountaintop (which we are)

This has to refer to the downhill, right?

Not heather, but part of the many flowers here

El Acebo, with the road surface Cicerone guide worries about

The albergue has no common room, so people not lying on their bunks will come to the dining room.

Today's ride: 40 km (25 miles)
Total: 2,035 km (1,264 miles)

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