Day 32 Camino de Santiago Aug 6 Alto do Polo

    Pears!  Not the most exciting topic, but it gets better, I promise!   The area is famous for, of all things pears and apples, unfortunately, it’s not the picking season.  That will be in a couple of months.  But to see so many apples and pears growing makes me think, I could live in the hills and come down and pilfer a few apples here and there.  Next week, I’d be on pear alert.  There are plenty of vegetables and I’m sure no one would mind if I took a beet here, or a tomato or...  Does that sound very Caminoish?? Probably not.  I’d better ask first... and then take them if they say no!:)

     I think I’d rather live in this house than a tent!  I was staring at this house, thinking, “What a beautiful home!  What could possibly be the down side to living in that house!  It’s gorgeous!”  Two seconds later, a huge cement mixer came rumbling past shaking the ground.  There’s the downside:  the house is six feet from the main street!!

     I saw these bells and wondered, “What happens in a small town when there is more than one church... who gets to ring the bells.  I never hear more than one church’s bells.  Must be some kind of agreement between the churches.  

       




     


    What is the first thing you thought, “oh, the freeway bridge!  If only the bridge wasn’t in the picture.”  How about the sunflowers, or the holly hocs?  I wonder why humanoids don’t see the building of a bridge as an amazing miracle, much like sunflowers?  We are a strange lot.  We tend to see ourselves as not part of nature, rather an imposition on nature.  We are as much a part of nature as birds and flowers.  only we have smelly feet.

    Yes, it’s time for “Food Talk”!  That segment of the blog that deals with what makes travel fun!  Bacon and eggs and a cafe con leche chased by a huge slice of chocolate cake!  Seriously, how much better can it get??  Toss in a heavy dose of a beautiful blue skies, puffy white clouds, and 65 degree temperatures.  and for the record, Spanish bacon is light years better than American bacon.  Little fat and tasty meat!

   









  I love the simple things in life, like how they channel the water to the different fields via the removable dams.  Quick, efficient and darn cheap.  But what an amazing piece of engineering.

   When you see beautiful pictures, it is only one sense that you are using, eyesight.  Unfortunately, or fortunately, you don’t SMELL the manure.  You don’t HEAR barking dogs, and you certainly can’t be annoyed to no end by flies that you FEEL!  Thank you cows for helping me see that.  I remember seeing Tarzan movies and how fun the jungle looked...until I went to the jungle and sweated like a banshee, and swatted bugs 24 hours a day!

    You gotta give these folks credit.  They’re trying to figure a way to make a sow’s ear into a silk purse.  Sometimes though, no matter how much you dress up a pig...it’s still a pig!

       




The trail climbed and climbed and was cloaked under trees, though there were plenty of views that helped make the climb that much more bearable!  Okay, maybe I used the views to stop and catch my breath!  

   







    I like hiking on the path, as opposed to hiking along side the road, but it is much steeper on the path and I can’t roll.  Still, it is fun to see the greenery and I have to tell myself that I need to savor every moment, since I know that in a short time, it’ll all be a distant memory.  I have learned that no matter how long I am gone, after being back for 2 days, it’s as if I never left.

    I saw this leaf on the road and it is the first time that I’ve ever seen a leaf that was similar to the camouflage that the US Army paints on it’s equipment.  All that camouflage paint... for one leaf??

    I could see where I walking to and it was a ways a way, however, I just knew that I would love it there.  O Cebreiro is supposedly like Ireland, complete with their own language.  I can hardly wait, but I’ve got two hours ahead of me.

    






I know it’s two hours because I stopped in a little bar and Gunther was there.  He let me know that there were two more hours.  Gotta love the Germans, between their maps and their watches, they’ve got planning down to a science!!

    Okay, so how many Spaniards does it take to change a light bulb??

    I see these rolls of hay and I have such American thoughts - shooting them with a bow and arrow!  Doesn’t that sound like fun.  Having the bales 300 yards away and flinging flaming arrows at them at dusk?  Maybe it’s a guy thing!  

     Only one of these sheep have a bell.  This proves that they aren’t too bright.  If the others could work as a team, they could beat him, bury the bell, and make their getaway.  I have a question for the belled sheep....Do you ever think about how you are being ewsed?

   Finally, one last stretch of the trail through dense forest and I could feel the temperature getting cooler and more moist.  In a few minutes, O Cebreiro!  O Boy!

       The first signs of the village that I had read about...that I had seen pictures of.  The rock wall.  I had even dreamed of walking into the village on this very road!!  Oh be still my beating heart!!

       Okay.... I don’t remember the sheets, but... they just add character!   That wall may be one of the original walls from 860AD.  Maybe even the sheets are that old!  This is going to be way cool!

     Great!  A cross!  That means I’m getting close to a church.  Sure enough, there was a church and I went inside.  There were no less than 15 young pilgrims in there...with their Credincial to be stamped.  They were loud.  Unpilgrimish.  They were clean and standing straight.  So not pilgrimish!  Who were these... pelegrinos??

    I walked into the town...only there really wasn’t a town.  There was a church, an albergue, three bar/hotels... that was it?  Wait a minute.  I’ve seen hundreds of buildings on Google images!?!?  What up wit’ dat?  Maybe this was just a suburb of O Cebreiro.  I asked a bartender, “Where is O Cebreiro?”  “This is it!” he replied.  

Mr. Google Images must have photographed each building from a hundred angles!  

    This is one of the buildings that had the thatched roof.  How cool!  Just like Ireland...how...how... how... lonely! This was only one of two.

     This is the view from the Albergue.  You can see a Franciscan monk in the picture. Every other building you see is a hotel/bar.  

     This is the other thatched roof building in the city.  That’s it. Two.  Count ‘em!  One Two!    Okay, no problem.  I’ll get a room- enjoy the 360 degree views - enjoy the cool weather - stay a couple of days and write!   Blah blah blah!

        T’weren’t to be!!!

1. There weren’t much of a town.  Maybe seven or eight old stone buildings, and that was it.  Most of the builiding were bars and had six or seven bedrooms to rent.  There was one small albergue in town and an old church that was simple but elegant.  

1. There weren’t any beds to be had! All the rooms were taken, and the albergue was full.  It wasn’t the first time that an albergue has been full, but in the past, all the people who run them do something to make sure that all people have a place to stay.  It may be in the basement, which I’ve done twice, or in a covered area outside, but everyone has a place to stay.  This albergue had a woman who just said, “Completo!”  (full) and put her hands in the air.
2.       “Not good enough!” I said,  “Let’s pretend that ‘failure is not an option!” 

           “Completo!” she repeated.  Wonderful.  The only darn person on Earth who has not seen Apollo 13.  

           “Thank you for your tireless efforts to make this an enjoyable visit!”  and with that I went to the town center.  I was going to ask someone if I could sleep in their car, but I got no takers. . . imagine!

I even asked bartenders if I could sleep on their floors, but nope, there is a law against that.

        “Fine!  Arrest me!  Put me in jail!  I’ll even take a top bunk.  I’ll sing “Folsom Prison Blues!”  

1. people weren’t Caminoish at all.  I walked from one pub/hotel to the next to ask, and always the same answer, “Completo!”  

        “How about, ‘completo...sorry!”  

        “Completo!”

    I decided to leave O Cerebrio and walk to the next town.  I was prepared to walk all the way to Tricastel which was 22k away.  But first, I thought, I should eat so that I won’t have to waste time looking for a place on the road.  As I started to walk to the bar, I couldn’t help but notice a city worker who was pouring concrete, staring a hole through the side of my head.  I tried to ignore him and went inside the bar.

     Let me set the stage:  Very picturesque pub.  12 tables and an old bar.  I walked to the bar and after being ignored be four people, I finally gathered someone’s attention.  “Excuse me, do you have a pilgrim’s menu?”  She looked at me as if I had asked her if she wanted to have sex on the bar.  My Spanish is not perfect , but if there is one phrase I know, it’s how to ask for a menu.  

     She walked away from me.  Okay, now I’m angry, hungry and tired.  Finally she walked by me again, and she said, “get a menu from the table.”  I did.  I went back to the bar and she and her other three zombies kept ignoring me.  Finally, I snapped and threw the menu up in the air and left.  

    Who do I run into outside the bar?   Mr. Staremaster!  He’s staring at me again.  “Que quieres?” I asked in a rather unfriendly tone.  “What do you want?”  He looked at me like I was nuts, so I asked him again, “Que quiere?”  

     “Uhhh...nada!” he replied.  

     In English - “Then look at the friggin wall!”  and I walked away.  

1. I knew I should leave...fast.  I was on tilt and the only thing to do was leave.  I left.  I was so disappointed because I had so looked forward to the town.  Poop on the town and its unCaminolike people!  I’m never going back there again!!!!

       The hike out of town was gorgeous.  (I'm trying be positive here!!  I was ready to go UnCamino, but I was trying to believe that it would all end well)  Incredible views of lush green land and beautiful farms.  Views of 50 miles away of green hills and farms.  Many farms were sectioned off with stone walls that were covered in moss ala Ireland...   

     One town after another  would only say, "Completo!"  No help, no floor... but still I smiled and said Gracias and moved on.  I couldn't believe how happy and positive I was, and it was sincere.  It was fun. I told people hiking along, not to worry, we'd be okay.  We should enjoy the next four hours of hiking if necessary because at the end of the day, we'd have a place to stay and would not have wasted hours of pouting.  In fact, stop and take pictures!!
    We finally made it to a two building town... really... and yes, I had a room.  20 E...  At dinner, what a trip!   There was an old man who was waiting tables and incredibly gruff.  He sat people where he wanted them and barked at them.  The first course was either macaroni or soup.  A Dutch couple fell into big trouble with the old man because the man wanted macaroni and the woman wanted soup.  The old man barked, "NO!  Sopa o macaroni! "  So they both had macaroni.  When he went to the kitchen, everyone in the "restaurant" looked at each other with that inside joke look and laughed.  It was a remarkable moment because in the room were French, Dutch, Irish, American, Italian, English and Belgian.  Through the next day, I'd see the people along the way and we'd smile and say, "NO! Macaroni or Sopa!"

    The next morning, the old man was as friendly as could be.  

It left this pilgrim scratching his head too!!

He even gave me a hug goodbye!  I think he was a bit bipolar.  I felt sorry for him because who knows, maybe his back hurt and all he wanted to do was lie down and his no good nephew didn't show up for work...again!  

Happiness doesn't come as a result of getting something we don't have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have.”

Frederick Keonig

Day 30 Camino de Santiago Aug. 4 Cacabelos

Cacabelos????  Doesn't that mean... pretty poop?  Dr. Bellos?   Where are we getting these names??  I had the two most blessed days ever in Molinaseca.  Last night I had a glass of wine with Sonnie at the cafe terrace overlooking the river.  Sonnie is from Italy and started the Camino the day before me.  He's an interesting guy.  He only wants to do what would be called menial jobs - pick grapes, bake bread, and even then if it's not specialty breads.  He likes to work outside.  He's very different than most of the people on the Camino - college trained or bound, or shiftless bums.  He's a good guy and will be back in Italy in September to pick grapes for a small family farm that he's picked for the previous three years.  He says it's like a big family with huge meals at night.  Sounds nice.
    If my math is right, he was 78 years old when he died on the trail.  That's amazing that he was even on the trail.  Wow!  I can't remember what I've written in these blogs so if I repeat myself, just move on.  Sorry!   There was a Korean kid who saw me carrying my backpack and said,
Korean -  "You... uh... you...
me - thinking, come on spit it out!
Korean - You ... uh... you are my hero!
me - yeah well you need to get out more!
Korean - you... uh.. you.. are sooooo old and ... uh... your pack is soooooo beeeg!!
me - where's this going but?
Korean -  when I get soooooo old  I want to .....
me - keep talking and you won't have to worry about getting older
Korean - I want to be able to carry such a beeeg pack when I am sooooo old like you.
me - how do you say, "up yours!" in Korean!!

    By the time I got to Ponferrada I was getting use to walking again.  Funny how just one day off and I feel like a duck.  This is the city where they make most of the giant windmills that you see all through Spain.  They have a castle in Ponferrada that was one of the most important to the Templars and it's in great shape!  The castle supposedly contains a secret message that tells where the Arc of the Covenant and the Holy Grail are!  Great.  Reminds me of when I hide things so burglars can't find them... but then I can't either.  

These must be some awfully good peaches - Ya gotta have a guard dog!!

 









Talk about irony, or coincidence... There's a guy that I've been bumping into on the Camino since way back when, named Dermot.  He's Irish and a real stitch.  I ran into him the other day and knowing that he sleeps outside often I thought that this green sleeping bag was him.  It wasn't .

 







    Neither was this stork's nest either.  They are an amazing builder!  Where do they sleep when they are building these things?  They are huge, as in 4 feet across.  Seldom do I see them fly, but I saw this one fly to his/her nest.

     Okay so here is the coincidence - I thought I saw Dermot, but nope.  Then I turn a corner and who is picking fruit off of a tree, Dermot.  Shock and begoria!  He is one of the few people on the Camino that has the same twisted sense of humor.   I gotta lose him somehow so I can get back to thinkin'!  It'll happen naturally.  He likes to walk fast and is on a shorter time line than I am.  I like to wake up and... well... I left at 9:00 this morning.  That's about 2 hours after most Pilgrims.    But as Aunt Ni says, "If  people were suppose to "pop" out of bed, then we'd sleep in toasters!

    We've left the flat lands of the meseta and the state of Leon y Castilla and are heading through the state of Galicia.  Here's a hut that you'd see in the Cotswalds or Ireland.  The people in Ireland, supposedly came from Spain who moved to France then crossed to Ireland who then crossed to Scotland.  That is why you'll hear bagpipes in all of the countries just mentioned.  Amazing huh!  And you thought this was just some dumb ol' blog.

     In one of the nicest restaurants I've seen in a long time, (yes, I want to buy it!) they were playing what I previously have said is Irish music, but apparently is Spanish music!  The place had a wall made of logs and pendent lights that had different size jars on them.  As if they had used empty peanut butter jars or olive jars as the actual bulbs.  Very cool!

    The albergue where we are staying is interesting.  It was billed as in an old church.  Not exactly true, padre!!  There is an old church, however the beds are not in the church.  The padre built a hallway around the perimeter of the rock wall that surrounds the property and then shopped it up into many rooms.  No windows, just doors.

 Two beds and if it's full, they put mattress on the floor between the two beds.  Dermott and I got the two beds and the floor when to a guy from the Basque country.  I had passed him earlier in the day and he was walking in obvious pain and very slowly.  I was going to help him but I thought, "Unless I have a bottle of morphine or a helicopter in my back, he's like everyone else...grunting it out."  I never thought he'd make it this far.

 We were taking our afternoon siesta and heard music.  Going into the park behind the church was a group of old timers - all in their 70's and 80's having some kind of a reunion.  Dermot and I were standing and watching and one old man came up and gave us a bottle of wine... this is no country for tee toters!

    Later on I saw Sonnie in the same albergue and introduced him to Dermot.  We decided to go back to the restaurant that we had seen earlier and have dinner.  It was a full 15 minute walk through town.  On the way there we could see rain a'comin'.  Perfect example of crossing bridges and not even being at the river.  It never rain, but we fretted about getting soaked on the way to and fro.

We crossed a bridge and then passed by a beautiful old home that is built on a spur of the river.  Doesn't seem safe, but they'll live well till it's washed away.  I often wonder if I see these kinds of homes, "Are the people happy inside?"  I wonder too, "Do they realize what a peach of a place they are living in?"  Then it gets twisted and I have to change my line of thought!!

     Sonnie, the guy who has picked grapes, pointed out this giant grape press that he's seen used, but, according to him, "This is really beeg!  It's a purpose is to squeeze all a da drops from a the grapea."

    At the restaurant, they had a souvenir shop that had many things I would have bought if I didn’t have to carry or tote them for another two weeks.  I read in my book about a tradition that if you say to the clerk, she will give you a free glass of local wine and a tapas.  Being the only one of the three of us, Sonnie, Dermot, and myself, to speak Spanish, I smiled at the girl behind the counter and said with my best accent, “Tiene un vaso de vino por un peregrino que esta muriendo de sed?” (Do you have a glass of wine for a pilgrim who is dying of thirst?)

    ...and she laughed at me and said, “I don’t speak Spanish. I’m from Germany, but I am familiar wit dees tradition!”  and she brought us three glasses of wine and a slice of  ham pie, like shadon!    There were three other waitresses and they were laughing as well.  It is good to make people happy and it made for a great evening.  There was a huge wedding going on and we sat by the kitchen.  Every time a waiteress would bring a plate of appetizers by, I would smile and say, “MMMMMM, muy bueno!”, and  eventually, they would bring us a sampling.  Que bueno!!

      "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times...what!!! Talk about trying to cover your butt!"
                      Cliff Clavin

Day 31 Camino de Santiago Aug. 5 Trabadelo

Heading out of Cacabellos or “Pretty Poopville”, it looked like I was going to get buckets of rain.  But I wasn't going to worry about it.  Hence, I was the last to leave, again, and loved it... had FOUR showers to myself!!  Because I had a great wifi connection, I wrote a bit stretched as I waited for the pictures to download.  

      The day turned out to be beautiful and cool, so not much sweat to deal with.  This cherry tree reminded me of biking through a cherry orchard inNE France and getting the living bejesus scared out of us.  The farmers put a machine that fires what sounds like a shotgun and it must have been 15 feet from the side of the road.  After I changed my britches...

    The road today was mostly paved or along a road or for awhile a nice trail through beautiful farm land.  It looked like Ecuador, which was ironic since I had just met two Pilgrims from Ecuador.  They are now living in Madrid.  When asked why they moved to Madrid they said that they moved in 2000, when the Ecuadorian money was massively devalued so they move to Spain because they had a better economy....whoops!!!

     The farmers around here have many different kinds of fruit trees and mostly grapes.  It’s a special grape called a mencia grape.  I plan on checking it out tonight.  The area is also famous for sweet red peppers that are roasted and then peeled by hand.  For dessert I’ll have a special pear and a special apple from the area.  I like how this farmer planted a rose bush at the end of one of his rows of grapes.  Maybe for the love of his life... he’d think of her every time he saw the roses!  Quien sabes?  (who knows?)

    The Camino rolls through some pretty desolate towns, but I like this house.  It has a lot of promise - power, four walls, a staircase, a roof... okay it has some liabilities too - the four walls probably need to come down, the staircase is a lawsuit in waiting, and the roof has to be replaced... but oh the location!!!

      This is a view of Cacabelos from the trail.  The name does not do the town justice.  I read the minutes from the last town hall meeting and two other names were rejected, “FeoPeepeetown” (ugly peepee) and “StinkySweatville”.  Go figure!

   




     The trail followed the road, which normally is kind of poopy...hey...maybe that’s where they got the name... but it also followed the river, which I scoured over and over for a fisherman, but to no avail.  I wanted to pay someone to be my guide and go trout fishing.  I did see one fish and he seemed to want someone to take him out of that cold water!

    

 I passed this graveyard and it reminded me of the one in our hometown in Italy.  All people are interred above ground behind marble or granite slabs.  Ain’t nobody going nowhere!!

      When I am rolling my backpack, I get lots of stares and some seem to be demeaning, however, most people are either envious or incredulous.  They like the flexibility of either rolling it or caring it.  Here were some bikers who had a ton of equipment.  There was even a tandem bike.  I’d like to take a tandem, but I would be restricted to staying on the roads, which would be okay with me.  

      I saw this house and thought of a caption for it:

overheard on the walkie-talkie -"Hey Juan, call off the search party.  I think I found where the meteor landed!”  or....
 "Well THAT explains why we ain't seen the ol' widow at church lately!"

   I intended on going 26k today, however after about 12K I had some ideas for two things:  the plan to help principals to be more successful and the other is for a restaurant called the “AbitofCamino”.  More on that later.  I also wanted to see about finding a guide for the river.  I stopped in a tiny town and found a Casa Rural for 25E and it looked like it was right out of Switzerland so I called it a day at about 2:00.  

      




     As it turned out, I can’t fish because they have closed the fishing season until the fall.  Hmmmm....I don’t think I’m going to be fishing ...legally, anytime soon.  I have been writing like a banshee, however, and enjoying every minute.  The only fly in the ointment is that the wifi doesn’t work and that means I have to go to Ruta Nova bar to write on their wifi.  Oh well, I’m going to get to kill several birds with one stone:  work on the blog, email, drink some Mencias wine, eat some red peppers and finish the night off with pears and apples.  Things could be a lot worse! :)

From my table in the garden.  Kinda makes you wanna write, doesn't it!






Flexibility is the ability to go with the flow, not bend the flow.... SWB (ouch, I just made that up!)

Day 29 Camino de Santiago Aug. 3 Molinaseca

What a wonderfully peaceful day!  I'm not good at slowing down, but am making progress at it.  After dinner last night I met an older German couple that I had seen off an on since Leon, so we went to the river cafe and had a drink.  So, so, so, peaceful.  It's amazing how concerned with how many people are concerned with how many guns are in the USA.  The German man said that there are 80 million Germans and 40 million have guns but only 10 million are registered.  Hmmmm...does that sound familiar??

 




     I realize there is no way to capture the spirit of the town of Molinaseca but it reminds me of a summer town in New Hampshire we were in one time long ago.  Kids swimming in the river, old grand dads pushing their grandchildren in little vehicles.  I'd say it's a Rockwell Americana, but it's Spain.

    This is the main street looking in both directions.  Nothing I can say or show you will give you the warm feeling one gets when walking down the road that has been walked for centuries.  It's...comfortable.   Like you are walking in a history book.

 



 

      I wanted to sit outside this morning and write so I found a cafe and ordered a tea.  I was there for over 2.5 hours and watch the store owner give 1/2 his store away to strangers walking by.  He gave me the internet password of the building that I was sitting in front of.  I bought a couple of peaches and tomatoes, a bottle of water, and while ringing it up, he stopped and gave myself and a Japanese pilgrim several slices of his most expensive ham.  He also brought me olives while sitting at the table.  His wife brought me a peach that had been soaked in brandy.

   Quickly, put some garlic around your neck.  This one is a little monster!!  While sitting at the table, a little girl, Marina, who apparently is a little imp, came over and began to bug me.  The mother and father, who I spoke of in the previous paragraph tried to get her to stop, but I said it was okay.  She wanted to type the word "Santiago" on my computer, so I let her.

 






    As I paid, the dad asked to see my Credencial, which is the passport a Pilgrim uses to be able to stay in the albergues.  He stamped it and then pointed to his father's picture on the wall and said, "Mi Papa!"  The stamp is of his father.  Pretty cool, eh?
 

  Speaking of Credencial, this is what it looks like.  I like looking at all the stamps.  What a sucker I am.  I'd walk across Russia if they were stamping some booklet!

   





This is a picture of a flashlight I found.  The first night on the Camino, way back in Ronceville, the guy who was in the bunk below me left it.  It has it's own generator which powers the battery via a crank.  It has been very helpful!  It makes a whirring noise that is annoying if you are trying to sleep, so I have to make sure I crank it before going to sleep or turn it very very slowly in the dark.

 







     Kids kill me.  There is a very shallow river to play in, but they play in the little canal next to it.  Kinda like playing in the box that the giant toy firetruck comes in at Christmas.  The little boy is Jose and an equally wild hare.  He and Marina are going to be talked about for years!
 

Speaking of toy firetrucks, here is an example of what I was writing about last night.  This "car" came through the restaurant as I was eating dinner.   No one cares.  No one over reacts.  Very peaceful and enjoyable.  A real family feel.

     In the countryside of Spain, families can have guests stay in their homes, much like the Riads of Morocco, except in Spain they are called Casa Rurals.  I'm staying in one now.  Gotta love a place that has so many flowers on the balcony!

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” ― Oscar Wilde