Saturday 27 July 2013

Our Camino, Santiago, July 26 2013.






It has been over 24 hours now since we walked into Santiago de Compostela.  I find it difficult to even cut and paste these few images onto this post without tears welling in my eyes, in fact I cannot.  There is such an overwhelming sense of joy and achievement and pride and peace and relief and, and, and...

I have lived a charmed life.  I was raised in a loving home where nothing particularly spectacular happened.  We had no great emotional highs or lows that I recall, we were just happy.  I went to good schools, always had good friendships throughout my life, always got good jobs and met and married a beautiful girl who I am still in love with over 20 years down the track.  I've got great kids, a top job, I've been inside the pyramids at Giza, dined at Parliament House in Canberra in a room full of politicians.  I've got a box full of letters from beautiful kids that I have taught over the years and I've even got a few letters after my name.

But let me tell you something extraordinary.  When my young son put his arm around me as we stood there together in front of that almighty granite cathedral on that hot July day, when he buried his head in my shoulder and we hugged each other and cried simple, honest tears.  That moment where we four embraced, where Monica and I looked at each other in wordless recognition of the significant achievement of our young children.  Right there is joy, right there is a glimpse into heaven, into that glorious reunion we will all share in the presence of Love.

The pictures tell the story of the walk, the weather was lovely, we saw the sights, we got here.  And what a place to get to, its magnificent and I don't use the word lightly.  The cathedral is huge, the buildings around it are huge and all gathered close together in places yet separated by expansive plazas in others.  It really feels like being in Ancient Rome, the scale is mammoth, huge sweeping stairs flow from one plaza to the next around this massive building, fountains play in the courtyards, the place is busy with people and market stalls and music and food and drink.  I could really live here, although it is summer, I understand winter is not so accommodating.

At noon today we attended the Pilgrim's Mass.  It was in Spanish, it was very catholic and fantastic, just what you want in a place like this.

And they lit the botafumeiro.  That massive incense burner that they swing on a huge rope from left to right in the cathedral.  It was glorious, joyous, a most beautiful thing.

As the disobedient masses, my family included, dragged out their ipads and iphones and filmed the whole show I found myself again in tears.

Such a beautiful thing, to be loved.  All these moments work together to remind me that I am a child of love, that I am known and loved by He who is love.

I found my way to the tomb of the apostle after the service, kneeled in that tiny, subterranean place and asked earnestly that this whole thing, this Camino de Santiago de Compostela would bring not only me, but the people I love closer to Jesus.

And as I type these final words of this blog that remains my prayer.

May Jesus go with you on your way, on your camino as these beautiful Spanish people say.

For we are pilgrims all until we reach our eternal home.

Buen Camino Pergrinos

Our Camino, Stage 16, Arzua to Amenal, July 25 2013.

Zoe and I were sharing a room for the last week.  Monica and I took it a week about to have each of the kids in our room.  We could not get '4 bed' rooms so we always went with two twins.

Zoe is a notoriously bad getter-upperer.  She loves to sleep in and after a long walk and a late Spanish night the mornings are tough for her.

Nevertheless we knew that today was a big one, about 24 km or more to our hotel at Amenal on the outskirts of Santiago.  We were up and getting ourselves ready when Monica poked her head in the door to make sure we were on our way.  A late morning means a late arvo, and after lunch the temperature soars.

Of course we were up so we opened the door to a shocked looking mum.

'I found out what all the sirens were last night',  Monica said, 'Apparently there was a big train crash in Santiago, about 80 people killed.'

Aye Corumba.  

I turned on the telly, generally a waste of time because most of it is in Spanish, and of course those now famous images were all over the screen.  I jumped on the internet, it was the top news story internationally as well.  Huge.

It is hard to explain just how profound an impact this story had on us that day for  number of reasons.

A.  We were right there, even though we were two days walk out of Santiago it was only 38km, about 20 minutes in a car.  I was like being in Hervey Bay and the crash happening in Maryborough.

B.  It was on the eve of the Feast Day of St James, a Spanish national holiday a bit like Australia Day at home.

C.  It was in Santiago, the centre of the celebrations and the focal point of the whole shebang.

D.  We were about to board those trains in two days to get out of Santiago.

Man oh man, being here, so focused on reaching Santiago, so near to our destination and knowing that many of the pilgrims we had walked with were already ahead of us and there was chilling.

At that point in the morning we had no news about the whole thing really, no one knew if it was a terror attack, a mechanical failure, human error, how many had actually died, if the trains would run again and so on.  Just that it was now St James Day and all bets were off.

They cancelled the celebrations, declared 3 days of mourning and knuckled down to sort out the mess.

We were flabbergasted but on our way.

Just out of town we saw this shrine.  It is in recognition of a lady who was in her 50s who had walked the Camino twice and who died in her sleep in Santiago the day after completing here second trip.  You see lots of these along the way, little plaques and places where particular people are remembered.  It was particularly poignant that day.


And it rained for the first time that day as well.  We had walked almost 300km in dry dusty conditions and on the second last day it rained.  It was just a sprinkle, enough to get your coats out, but it rained. I loved it, I am not convinced that Zoe did looking at this picture but she was happy enough in the moment.  You know even in July it is unusual for the hot weather to go on for so long without rain in Galicia, we have been quite blessed.


Even the deer were allegedly jumping for joy although we never saw any.


I thought I better snap one of these before we got out of Galicia.  A coke machine with the Way across the front.  Note the shell symbol in the background, the towns of the Camino from left to right.  Fantastic.  I am sure you don't find them in other parts of Spain or Europe.

The walk into Amenal was long, the last 4 or 5kms took forever, the day got hot when the rain cleared but finally we came into a shaded forest, cool and green.  Note the moss on the trees below as well as the gum leaves on the ground.  The bush around Santiago has a distinctly Australian smell with many eucalypts among the oaks.  It had a familiar feel.  The forest led us to our final night on the Camino, a little joint just on the very fringe of Santiago, Amenal.

We settled for the last time into our hotel, had our dinner and made ready for the final day, a trifling 16km into town.  I expected to feel more ... well more something than I did.  Being on the very cusp of reaching a significant milestone had left me a bit numb to be honest.  I had been thinking about this for years, planning it for a year and looking forward to it for months.  I had been walking it for 3 weeks and yet here I lay, in bed just tired and ready to have it over and done with.

Maybe that's the way of it with pilgrimages.  Maybe the pilgrim just wants it out of the way so they can get on with life afterwards.  Maybe upon completion there is no great change, just knowledge, knowledge that it is done.  Maybe the thoughts of the suffering of the Spanish people on this special day had dampened my elation, softened my edge.  Dunno.  Maybe just walking 300 kilometres is tough, I know my body hurt more this week than previously, the old grey mare ain't what she used to be and she was never that good in the first place.  I was always and ever an old grey donkey at best.

Anyway, one day more, one breath before the final plunge.

Buen Camino Peregrinos.






Our Camino, Stage 15. Melide to Arzua, July 24 2013.

The day started well.

We began our walk out of Melide to be greeted by a cheeky little pony tied up in the middle of the track.  Zoe was in raptures of course, in the photo below you can see the thing trying to eat Harry.  It snuffled at our clothing and skin trying to get anything it could out of us.  No cigar.  Zoe went on to talk about horses and ponies for the next hour.


The day was nice enough, the air was cool, the walking distance only about 16km so we took our time.  I still did not feel real flash from the day before so I only snapped a couple of pics.  I just concentrated on getting to our destination.


This is another lovely little stone cross that seem to exists everywhere in Spain, more and more are around though as we approach Santiago, it is almost like the experience is intensifying as you get closer, like there is more and more cordial in your drink, more and more G in your G&T.


After a few lazy hours we rolled into Arzua and were greeted again by St James on the plinth above.  Not a particularly spectacular day scenery of event wise, just more of the same.

The hotel was nice, the food was great and we hooked up with the Americans, Margaret and Alex, I had mentioned earlier for a drink after dinner.  We chatted about life in the states, being a chinese immigrant etc and the evening would have been quite pleasant and forgettable if not for one amazing thing.

About 9pm while we were chatting after dinner the town was abuzz.  Just about every emergency vehicle in the district went zooming past our hotel with sirens blaring in the space of about 15 minutes.

It was noticeable but not alarming.  We chatted for a bit longer and went to bed, not knowing that our Camino had just had a dramatic shift.

My dad always used to say, 'never let the sun go down on your anger', and I am a proponent of making sure you tell the people you love that you do.  You just never know when that last moment will be.

Buen Camino Pergrinos





Our Camino, Stage 14. Palas De Rei to Melide, July 23 2013.

Only a short hop today.  16km to Melide.

To be honest I did not feel real flash today.  I walked under sufferance, complained about everything and couldn't be bothered taking too many photos.  I don't recall the walk as being particularly eventful or insightful, more of the same drudgery.

Get up aching.

Get bread for breakfast.

Walk for an hour.

Have a drink of water.

Walk for another hour.

Have a break at a cafe.

Walk for an hour.

Have another break.

Walk more.

Get to accommodation, check in.

Have a shower.

Do your washing in the sink, bathtub if you have one.

Hang out wet washing.

Find beer.  Drink it.  Have dinner.

Go to bed.
Take photo of interesting statue.

Take photo of stone cross.

Take photo of St James Cross.

We got shunted to some mediocre hotel off the Camino, had a beer in a dreary bar that made you want to give up drinking, discovered Europe's smallest lift, it was so small you had to send it back down to fetch your body odour, lucky because we generally stink.

Slept in a lumpy bed, got up to a breakfast that I don't recall and were thankful to get the dickens out of there.

Not every day on the Camino is a life-changing experience.  This one was nothing special.

Buen Camino Peregrinos

Our Camino, Stage 13, Portomarin to Palas de Rei, July 22 2013.

Initially apologies.  It has been a good few days since I have posted a blog, I am sure that people have been waiting with bated breath to know how we got on after Portomarin.

Well here we go.  We left Portomarin on a cool morning , Portomarin sits astride a wide river, the Mino so the valley was cool in the morning and stayed cool for much of the day.  The air was moist with a thick fog and the temperature did not get above about 15 degrees celcius until well after lunch.  A good walking day.
Santiago blessed us as we left Portomarin.  His statue ever more present along our way, the thoughts of his resting place and Cathedral ever more present in our minds.
As you can see by this image of the kids above the track was narrow and overgrown in many places.  This is not to say this it is not well-drodden, there are many hundreds of pilgrims on any given section of the Camino on any day and July or xulio (no capital) is not the busiest month.  The fog was so thick you can even see it amongst the very close branches on the left of the kids.
Here is a better image of the fog.  The path emerges out of the bush onto a roadside every now and then.  You may walk for a kilometre or so along a road, never much more on the busy ones.  Here you can see the very thick fog, probalby about 10.30 or 11 am already at this point.
The Camino de Santiago de Compostella is heavy on the consciousness of the Spanish.  In Galicia it is everywhere.  The pavements are clothed with images of Santiago, above you see his cross and the scallop shell centered upon it.  This was just sitting in among some cobbles in an intersection that we walked across.  Below you see the map of Galicia in a man hole cover.


Anyway the day wore un in a pretty uneventful manner.  We walked all the way to Palas de Rei and found our accommodation on the edge of town upon entering.  We checked in, had a nap and a refreshing drink before dinner.

The people I mentioned in my last post that have joined the walk with the same company as us turned out to be from New Jersey, a chinese american couple travelling with their 22 year old son.  We spent some time that night having a good chat to them, it was nice to actually spend time with english speaking people and be able to share our already two week old adventure.  They were amazed of course, having only walked two days they thought the kids were fabulous having walked over 200 kilometres to date.

So do I.

Buen Camino Peregrinos.

Tuesday 23 July 2013

Our Camino, Stage 12, Sarria to Portomarin, July 21 2013.

It was a misty morning in the hills as we walked early out of Sarria to Portomarin.  We had about 22km to walk so we hit the road by about 8.20am.  It is difficult to get going any earlier than this due to the fact that most times getting your desayuno prior to 8am is difficult.  You can sometimes get it at 7 or 7.30 but by the time you eat and get going it is always past 8.  And if you have paid for it you don't want to be walking 5km up the track and paying for it again at a different joint just to get an early start. By the time you finish at that place all the people who stayed for brekky at your hotel are walking past you.  Time net even, wallet sans euros.

So below is another picture of one of the overpasses we wandered past on a foggy morning in Galicia.  Note the mountains are not as high and rugged as some of the places we passed a week or so ago.  The air is cooler as you get further into Galicia, the mist hangs around for longer.


Galicia is known by the locals as the region of a thousand rivers.  You are never far away from flowing water or a little brook or lake.  Here you see the kids crossing a little stream early in the morning, they still have their polar fleeces on in this pic so it would have been first thing, they usually get packed away after about 30 to 40 minutes tops, once you get the body heat up the jumper soon becomes uncomfortable.  We have only used them once or twice.


Another watercourse.  We saw a few of these where the Camino ran parallel with the creek so the bridge was sort of on the side of the road.  The Zozz having a rest, jumper packed away already.

I think if you were from Scotland, or maybe some other parts of the UK you might be used to stone walls and stone buildings.  I'm not, I'm from Dubbo so I love 'em.  Just take a moment to have a look at some of the elements in this image.  Morning fog settled between the trees in the background, overhanging trees softly shading the edges of the path from what little sun filters through the mist, a cobbled track, a low stone wall disappearing into the distance on the left and an ivy covered stone building on the right.  The morning mist was thick, it stuck to your clothes as you walked through it, the air was still and clear and the sounds of your passing were muffled into noiselessness by the soft surrounds.  As you wend your way through Galicia towards the ultimate destination on this pilgrimage you pass through so many moments that take your breath away.   It is peaceful and beautiful so often, yet always a slog.  We met an American girl on our first or second day on the road, she had started walking in Roncevailles near the French border.  When she discovered it was our first day she said, 'Oh, it is sooo wonderful.', and then went on to tell us how to deal with blisters, dehydration and other ailments we could expect.

Its a crazy thing this Way of St James.  A true paradox.


You just can't help stopping and taking photos.  The few I have added here are just a token of what we have collected.  I mean look at that, we spend our days wandering through this stuff.  I would like to take this opportunity to thank the College Council of SJLC for approving my sabbatical leave.


The signpost below is besmirched with graffiti but if you look closely you will see the letters K 100.  100km to go.  Look at my beautiful babies.  What a joy to share such an awesome adventure with the people you are in love with.  H-mann 99 with his adolescent swagger, the Zozz with her beautiful smile and trusting way.  They are such great kids.  I would put a picture of Monica up there too but I am forbidden from doing so.

K 100

These things are interesting.   They are grain storage huts.  Built of stone and brick they have slots or holes through them for ventilation.  About 4 or 5 metres long and built up off the ground on a stand or stone legs, they occur regularly along the way in the little farming villages.  Only about a metre or so wide.
We finally made our way into Portomarin, it sits nestled on the River Mino, another old pilgrim town.  We crossed the river over a high modern bridge about 200 meters long to be greeted by these steps.  See the little blue sign on the left with the pilgrim and the white arrow directing us up the escalades.  Just what you need after 22 kilometres in the Spanish heat.  They were thigh busters I can tell ya.

Below are a couple of images of lovely stone dwellings we passed along the way today, not really in order but I just through them in.  The sort of stuff you become immune to as you pass, but so amazing.


And further up the hill from the afore-mentioned steps was this church, our hotel was (of course) a bit further up the hill from here on the street to the left, out of this shot by about 500m.  Note the open cobbled plaza in front of the church.  This was about 3.30pm I suppose when we walked into town, at about 6pm the place was jumping, the cafes and bars that surround the plaza are all full of peregrinos and locals from mid afternoon (6 or 7pm) until late.

Thus ended the day.  We found our hotel, met up with a couple of people we passed along the way during the day who were now travelling with Camino Ways as well.  Many people have joined the Camino at Sarria, it is the last town before the mandatory 100km walking distance to gain your Compostela (certificate of pilgrimage) in Santiago.  The way is becoming more and more crowded as Santiago approaches as well because on the 25th of July is the Feast Day of St James, many peregrinos are aiming to hit town at that time or just before.  Its a public holiday in Spain, their national saint and all.  Alas we hit Santiago the day after on the 26th (this Friday) but I understand the festivities will still be well underway.  As our loved ones in Aus are settling into a Friday night at about 9 or 10pm we shall be walking into that famous cathedral about Friday lunch, getting our Compostelas and approaching that sacred shrine.

A lot to look forward to this week.

Buen Camino Peregrinos

Monday 22 July 2013

Rest Day in Sarria, July 20 2013.

Buenos Dias Peregrinos.

 Not blogging about our rest day other than putting up a the following images with a Dentistry theme. 

Saw these in a dentist's window in Sarria, had to take pictures in case there are any in the dental trade paying attention.

Okay??? So how do I purchase on of these models?  A man with a trumpet and another fella with a shovel over his shoulder next to a giant tooth!

You'r gunna use WHAT on me??

Oh, its okay, the doctor is Jesus, I just touch the hem of his apron and my implants will be in.

You are not encouraging me to pop in for some work Dr J.

This seems like a more orderly approach to the issues at hand.

Anyway, got the washing done, used all sorts of unctions and remedies to resolve our physical issues and managed to do a spot of souvenir shopping.  On the road again tomozz.

Buen Camino Peregrinos


Sunday 21 July 2013

Our Camino, Stage Eleven, Triacastella to Sarria, July 19 2013.

It was a long hot walk (he says again) from Triacastella to Sarria, but some cool things happened.

Before I begin though I need to explain to you how we survive here in Espana.

Well, I should start by saying that all our dinners and breakfasts (cena and desayuno) have been paid for as part of our accommodation so its not like we are foraging for tucker.  Nevertheless the meals that have been included are what are called 'Pilgrims Menus' and the very thing that we would be procuring should they not have been provided.

They work like this.

A.  Usually about ten euros ($14 to $15 AUD) each.
B.  Come with 3 courses.  Primera (first) Segundo (second) and Postres (desert).
C.  Your choice of wine or water ( bottle of wine and bottle of water).  We go the vino tinto (always served chilled).  Agua for the ninos.

First course is not an entree, it is usually pretty big.  Often including a number of choices such as soup, pasta or vegies.  The kids usually go for the pasta, I usually go for the vegie soup.  Interestingly Mum, if you are reading this, a Galician staple is pasta with tomato sauce and tuna, pictured below.  Tasted it, exactly the same as Manna.  You have Spanish blood in your veins woman.

Segundo is when you get the meat.  Lamb, pork, beef, fish, your choice.  Now let me be clear, you get the meat.  Generally that's it.  Cuts not easily recognisable to Australians but tasty.

Desert is ice-cream or rice pudding or something that reminds me of that milky curd thing we used to get off our nanna as kids, junket, that's it.

The food is honest and local and tastes great.  Have not seen one Maccas in Spain, saw a sign but couldn't find the place in Ponferrada a week or so ago.



I am not going to disparage the locals with this blog, just share a couple of pics and make some comments about each from our walk into Sarria.



This is a picture of Monica and the kids seated at a watering fountain about 4km out of Triacastella.  We were in that lovely mossy, shaded forest once again, it was at the top of a pretty steep climb so you can see that everyone looks a bit pooped.  The lady and her son at the fountain are some spaniards who are walking the camino together, he is about 12, we passed them a number of times this day and got to know them a bit.  There a lots of places along the road where you can fill your bottles, this one is particularly spectacular.  The water in the big concrete basin was not so nice but the cool liquid that flowed from the Camino shell was lovely.


A beautiful spot with an over arching tree covering the path.  Not the lush vegetation in the background, that is where we had just come from when this image was taken, the light was no good shooting back this way.  You don't imagine that there is such abundant greenery in Spain, the Galician hills are equal to some of the rainforest walks we have done in Queensland but the trees are different.  Much more old and tree like, a bit more Lord of the Rings.  Aren't my children magnificent?  I am so proud of them on this journey, they are irrepressible.

Just a shot of a very narrow little section as we pass througha stone village.  The lady at the end of the alley is simply another peregrino passing through.  It goes like this usually.

'Ola'
'Ola'
'Buen Camino'
'Buen Camino'

And then you may never see them again or you may run into them for the next 3 days at every cafe, water fountain etc.  Sometimes you chat on the path for a few minutes as they pass through if you have languages that you can connect with.  It always finishes with a 'Buen Camino' and either they or you move on.  It's lovely when you see someone who you chatted with or sort of criss-crossed for a while a few days later in another town.  'Hey, g'day, Buen Camino.  How have you been?  Did you get that ..... or how did you end up with that.... ' and so on.  It is a really nice thing travelling along the same road parallel to people, you learn their story, share them with others, hear about people before you meet them and so on.  Its all really neat.

And then you see something completely freaky, like a coke machine in the middle of the bush with an extension lead disappearing over the hill into the distance to who knows where.  As entranced as our children were we did not give in, they get plenty of coca-cola in the cafes.  I tell you what it is good gear too, when they are flagging, falling short, finding motivation a bit tricky a glass of coke gets 'em up and pumpin'

You may not be able to see it but this shot is a cracker.  Our kids often go for an ice block on the road if they can get us to give in.  On this day it was another stinker, we had been going for about 6 hours or so by this point.  It was after lunch, about 2pm.  We wandered into this little stone village, as you do and spotted a cafe/bar/shop.  There were no seats outside so we went in, it wasn't airconditioned and the air was pretty still, no breeze.  The kids brought an iceblock each and as they held them the steam was falling of them.  You know when you open the freezer on a really hot humid day and you get that steaminess falling out onto the kitchen floor, like that.  But for the whole time they ate them.  I tried to get a photo of it.  You can sort of see, veery close to Zoe's ice block, near the red section above the chair I think.  It was so hot in that room.

And it was as we were sitting in that room that we met some fabled travellers we had been told about a week or so ago.  We were sitting there and all of a sudden a guy walked in with two kids and the Australian accents were unmistakalbe.  You don't hear many.  An Aussie fella with two little kids, all that was missing was the wife and donkey.  Every time someone found out that we were Aussie they would ask if we had met the Aussie family travelling with the donkey and the little kids.  We had not until now.  They had pulled up at the same spot (pictured above from the outside) for a break.  The started in St Jean Pied de Port in France and walked all the way to Burgos.  At that point they decided to skip a bit of the journey, send some of the excess baggage they had home and hook back up in Ponferrada, as such the people that had met them early had not seen them for a while.  They were back on the road and we met them today.  The donkey is called Simon, the kids were Eli and Moses, I never got the parents names.  We chatted for a while and have worked out that our paths will probably cross again closer to Santiago.  How cool, travelling with a donkey carrying your gear, or your kids when the are tired.  The just got it off the internet, need to have it in Santiago by July 30.  That simple.  Of course Zoe was in raptures.

Not much else happened that day, we walked the last few days into Sarria for our 2 night stopover.  We need a rest, some time to do a bit of washing and get our chafing under control, well mine anyway.  This last image is a shot of the cafe scene at about 11.30 at night just across from our hotel, a beautiful strip alongside a pretty stoney river.  We sat there for about 3 or 4 hours, had a few drinks and kicked on for tea, watched the world stroll by.  They don't really get going in Spain until about 10pm and then they kick on until well after midnight, particularly the old people, folks in their 70's and 80's promenading back and forth for ages in the cool evening breeze, catching up with friends.  At about 10 pm all the families turn up for a feed with the kids, little plastic motorbikes, scooters etc.  Mum and dad find a spot for tea, kids scoot up and down along the footpath, no cars on this part.  Just a wonderful way to live.

So that was our day.  Rest day tomorrow so I won't blog so much, maybe dump a few pikkies.

Buen Camino Peregrinos.

Saturday 20 July 2013

Our Camino, Stage Ten, O'Cebreiro to Triacastella, July 18 2013.

The walk down from the heights of O'Cebreiro to Triacastella was a lovely day.  

One of the monuments I have really been looking forward to seeing is the one pictured below.  It is huge, maybe 3 metres tall.  I took a number of photos of it but as it was early in the morning the view from the front is essentially a silhouette.  I deliberately walked around the back to get this shot of the pilgrim and where he was heading anyway and with the light it really is the best shot.

What a beautiful image.  The pilgrim, leaning into the wind, essentially in a struggle with the elements yet travelling on into the glorious west.  The huge blue sky in the distance promises release and rest but first the mountains.  It may be a very romantic concept this walking across Spain, the movie 'The Way' certainly makes it seem like a special thing to do, but let me tell you there is nothing easy about it.  I am so deeply proud of my kids, 10 and 13, stoically attending each day to the challenges before them like the pilgrim in this scene, faithfully trusting.



I have said before that this journey is a feast for the eyes.  I could post a million images like the ones below.  The countryside never stops amazing you, every new corner unveils a new scene.  It is breathtaking.



One of the other things that is breathtaking is the little farms you walk through.  Too small to be called a village and usually without an albergue (hostel) or a shop they are just little stone places.  

They stink.

Generally covered completely in poo, a mixture of cow and horse mostly but not exclusively.  They have stone buildings from which you can hear various animal noises emanate, mostly chickens but often cows, sometimes pigs or goats.  On a 35 degree summer day you can imagine the quality of the aromas wafting out of those fetid places.  Usually narrow stone alleyways between buildings and devoid of wind the air hangs thick with the smell that seems to stick in your nose hairs for about 10 or 15 minutes after you have left.  Best to breathe in a shallow manner whilst passing through, feign needing to sneeze or blow your nose so that you have an excuse to put your hanky over your nose in case the old lady that lives there, immediately adjacent to the pandemic factory, mistakes your retching for not liking her little stone house and the mangy dog that lays asleep at her doorstep (or dead from over-fumigation, you can't tell with the amount of other feremones circulating in the poo laden dust that swirls up from your footprints).

Maybe I'm being too harsh.  I mean they do sort of demonstrate an old fashioned way of living.  Europe during the plague maybe, animals living in the barn below to keep the house above warm in the winter months.  Its like stepping back in time to a simpler way of living when people were self sufficient and grew their own vegies and diseases.  I must admit,it hasn't rained here for a few weeks, a good 10 or 15 inches in about 10 or 15 minutes with about an 85km hour wind behind it would certainly give some of these joints a good rinse, empty a few bottles of handy andy out your front door at the same time and the place would sparkle.

Dunno about those barns though.



Below you can see my children, heads bowed, sucking in huge gasps of fresh air as they wander at pace out of one of the above mentioned locales.

Just joking.  The photo below was a wonderful moment.  Harry and Zoe had wandered ahead and were collaborating on a little Spanish ditty we had made up a few days earlier.  A walking song.  Zoe bought a recorder (the primary school teacher in me prickles at the though) in O'Cebreiro the day before and she worked out how to play the melody, she and H were just walking and chatting in front of Mon and I.  When you see your kids in that context, walking alone on a distant shore, being together and chatting nicely it sort of makes up for all the times you have had to blow them up in front of foreigners.  I great shot anyway.

 
I think I am breaking even on the calories scale.  I am not losing weight but by the same token I am not putting it on either.  The 6 hours of gutbusting trudging through that Spanish heat is counterbalanced by the sheer volume of cervesa consumed to take the pain away.  Dos cervesa grande por favor!



Heading down into Triacastella right in amongst the Asturian ranges, the countryside is becoming greener, the mountains more rugged.  Just beautiful.


And more rewards in a shady place.



Loving the Camino and looking forward to the hike into Sarria and a rest day tomorrow.

Buen Camino Peregrinos