Read the first part of this story.
We did our pilgrimage with comfort. It had been tempting to do it properly, carrying all belongings and sleeping in pilgrim lodges, but eventually I decided I was too old, and my companions never questioned the decision. The walk was sufficiently strenuous as it was, and comfortable pilgrimages are apparently legitimate. After the first day we were collected at the specified time in a bar in Baamonde and taken to a wonderful place where we were to stay for three nights. I must admit that I hadn’t bothered to look up our accommodation and had no idea what to expect. The very brief instructions we had received said something to the effect of: “Due to lack of accommodation in Baamonde/Miraz/Sobrado you will stay in a rural hotel”. We would be taken back to where we ended the previous day. I don’t know what the unavailable accommodation would have been like, but we won a golden ticket with Bi Terra.
Obviously, we had three dinners on the three nights, all different and all delicious. We only had light lunches during the day, so a hearty evening meal, even though it was, according to Spanish ways, very late, was welcome. Between our arrival, after we were picked up at destination, and dinner, we showered, rested with our feet up the wall, checked email, shared our photos on facebook, then met in the lounge over a glass of wine. Breakfasts were excellent too, and after breakfast, around 9 am, we were taken back on trail. We cheated twice. Actually, the first time we didn’t cheat, just took a shortcut, suggested by our hosts, which turned out not much of a shortcut, rather an alternative route. On the final morning at Bi Terra, however, we were supposed to do 25 km and asked our hosts to drop us off 5 km down the road, which they were hugely understanding about. We were really sorry to take leave of Bi Terra and our wonderful hosts, but we had to move on. The two subsequent accommodations were quite ordinary, but nice, although the second didn’t have a restaurant so we got vouchers to a nearby pizzeria which was all-time low in terms of treats for the palate. But hunger was stilled.
The ultimate accommodation was magnificent, but more on that anon.
The first four days we were walking the final stages of Camino del Norte before it joins the main Camino at Arzúa. Camino del Norte, that follows the northern coast of Spain (part of which I had walked last year), is less popular and therefore less populated, and we probably met ten-fifteen other pilgrims a day at the most. The last two days, Camino was crowded, but fortunately there were more services, such as bars and restaurants, so we never ran into a problem getting a cup of coffee or a glass of freshly pressed orange juice.
On Camino del Norte, bars and cafes were fewer and sometimes far between so we had to do with whatever we had brought from breakfast. But at destination, there was always a nice place to have a beer and some local nibbles. Dinner was, as mentioned, late so we had time to get hungry again.
Most of the trail went through lovely forests. Typically, people, including myself, don’t associate Spain with forests, but Galicia is special, in the north of the country, close to the Atlantic and high elevation. The trail went through green corridors between tall eucalyptus (they are invasive species and destroy the natural habitat, but they look and smell nice), and there were small rivers and streams, and at one point we came by what was described as the largest lake in Galicia.
Otherwise there wasn’t much to see. There were some churches and chapels, invariably locked.
The many villages we passed were idyllic, but not in any way remarkable, or as our guidebook says: ”small hamlets of little note”. The only important sight was Sobrado with its magnificent monastery built in 952. I was particularly struck by a chapel with amazing stone carvings, but no other ornaments, not even an altarpiece.
The weather was perfect for hiking. The first couple of days it drizzled on and off, so we put on our raincoats and waterproof trousers, then took them off, then put them on again. But it didn’t pour, and it was much better than unbearable heat. On the very last day it was promised 28 degrees, but never went over 24 which was hot enough. Our daypacks were crammed with clothes for all kinds of weather, and everything proved useful.
There was one day none of us enjoyed. It was the fourth day when we probably started geting tired, but in the first place we decided it was because most of the trail was on paved roads which is not friendly to your feet and knees. It wasn’t the longest stage, but it felt the least pleasurable. Just a few kilometres before the destination, as we were longing for showers and bed, we saw a sign promising a bar.
We looked at each other. Extra 270 metres and then back again? But the temptation was too strong, and we succumbed. The bar was lovely, and the break well-deserved. This was just another moment when we felt we got on well together. Interestingly, the morning after we were all fresh and fit for fight. I remembered it from previous hikes. In the evening you wonder whether you would be able to walk another step next day, and in the morning you are absolutely fine.
Once we reached Arzúa you could tell the difference: there were pilgrim shops selling souvenirs, and even along the trail there were makeshift stalls with all kinds of merchandise and of course stamps!
Now, stamps are a prominent and indispensable feature of Camino walking. In order to receive your certificate of completed pilgrimage, the Compostela, you need to provide proof that you have actually been there, and for that you have a pilgrim passport, Credential del peregrino, where you collect your stamps. You need at least two stamps a day. When I read about it I thought the stamps would be mainly available in churches and pilgrim lodges, but it turned out you got them almost anywhere, in hotels and bars, and collecting them became an exciting game. Sometimes we would have lunch in one bar and coffee in another next door, just to get another sello.
One day, our host at Bi Terra, giving us daily instructions, strongly recommended a particular place we shouldn’t miss, which we of course had totally forgotten until I saw St James’ cross on a stone wall and a wrought-iron gate leading to a small front garden. It was empty, and the door of the house was closed, but there was a doorbell that we pulled, without much hope. We had almost turned to go when the door opened, and a old man came out, saying something encouraging in broad Galician, went over the garden to what looked like a shed, and was a shed, where he used a gas torch to melt wax and give us most beautiful sellos. He was a retired sculptor, and although we had interruped his siesta he was obviously pleased to have visitors. He even treated us to grapes direct from the vine.
On the main Camino there were so many people that stamps were obtained by self-service on the counter. Whatever you think, your pilgrim passport was a great souvenir from your walk.
On the last day we were supposed to walk 19 km, and although my feet hurt terribly (somehow I managed to get blisters, despite my wonderfully comfortable boots) I felt I wanted to walk this final stage, while Annika gave up and took a taxi halfway. We started early, while it was still dark, and had the pleasure of the mist and the sunrise on the go. The first 15 km were highly enjoyable – again, lush forests and lovely views, and finally we came to the hilltop from which olden-day pilgrims first saw cathedral spires, but today you cannot see them because of vegetation and high-rise buildings in the city. From there, it was downhill in more than one sense. You would imagine the approach to the goal of your in some cases weeks-long walk to be grand, but instead it was a torture: paved sidewalks among heavy noisy traffic, and it just went on forever. The last kilometres of the day are always the longest, but these were excruciating.
Yet finally we were there, on the square featured in all guidebooks and videos, among crowds of people exhausted like us or already fresh after showers and beers. We had made it. We were there.
To be continued.
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