Week 4 - Camino de Santiago

 If you are new to this blog, please read Week 1 first.

Week 4 on the Camino de Santiago, Camino Francés

Day 22 - Tuesday, June 17, 2025

Santibanez de Valdeiglesia to Astorga

So my morning started out needing to do a little creative field medicine. My toe drained so much that the thread was crusted to skin and would not pull out. Problem solving at 4:30 am using the light of my headlamp while trying not to make any noise … interesting. After soaking it, I was finally able to pull out the threads. But it looked pretty infected so I could not put Compeed over an infection … but I have no bandaids. Solution, alcohol wipe over blistered skin then Compeed over that, make shift bandaid until I can get to a pharmacy in Astorga. This could be a problem. Pilgrims have had to abandon their pilgrimage for feet issues, especially infected blisters. 

 

I sure you are all loving those disgusting photos but it’s important that you know the ugly truth to the Camino along with the beautiful. Despite the alarm going off at 4:30 am, due to the afore mentioned situation, I did not hit the trail until 6:15 am. To my delighted surprise, my toe felt better than it has for a week!!! I had a new spring to my step and felt great going up and down the inclines. Despite what it looks like, relieving the pressure meant relieving the pain. 

What the creepy heck is up with the people in this region? Along with yesterday’s sighting, this would not be the last time mannequins are represented along the Camino. They seriously creep me out!

Today’s hike is a pre-planned short one. I stayed just three hours out of the city of Astorga so that I could hike in early and spend the day sightseeing. The early morning hike was another enjoyable one through fields and rural roads. 

Out of nowhere, literally in the middle of a field this oasis pops up. The woman was still setting up this amazing breakfast spread of fresh fruit and breads. I didn’t stop because I had some toast before leaving the albergue but how hippy cute is this!

I continue my self-education in the cereal grains … everything looks like wheat to an Iowa girl. But no! This is barley, “cebada” in Spanish. 

My first glimpse of the city of Astorga. 

I love how the ancient cathedral stands out against the modern skyline. I’m sure that there is a metaphor in there somewhere. 

“The past and the future are fruits of your mind.”

I arrived at Astorga with 45 minutes of downtime before the Cathedral opened. I searched out the albergue where I was hoping to stay. It was conveniently located not even a block away from the cathedral. I decided to convert myself from pilgrim to tourist the best I could while sitting on a street bench. That meant unzipping the dirty legs and converting my pants to shorts, and switching from my hiking shoes to sandals. Time to investigate how my toe survived the morning hike.

You have to be kidding me! What fresh pilgrim hell is this? Now I have a blister on the other foot?!?! But it didn’t even feel it while hiking?!

Geez, I’m not liking the redness. I am going to be in trouble if the infection gets out of control. I slathered it with the Neosporin that I had brought along to get me by until I could find a pharmacy later on. In the meantime, it’s cathedral viewing time.

Astorga’s Cathedral was a little underwhelming after having fallen in love with León’s just a few days earlier. But to be fair, if León is the KC or Omaha of Spain’s plains, Astorga is the Des Moines. 

The building’s main façade is its most impressive feature. 

As you may know, when these grand cathedrals of Europe were built, the only people who could read were the clergy, royals, and other nobility. Therefore, the teaching of the Bible were literally taught in picture-book form. What to us appears to be beautiful art, was their way of educating the people about the major events in the Bible. 

Santiago as a pilgrim

John the Baptist in the wilderness

Restoration work being done on a painting

Tour of the Cathedral done and now I need to check in to the albergue. The building was built in the 1700’s as a prison for women. When I read that, I knew I had to stay there. Ironically, its current name is Albergue San Javier … and no, the irony was not lost on me. 

Front of Albergue San Javier

Front of Albergue San Javier

Foyer of albergue

I took these next photos in the afternoon after returning from all of my day’s adventures. In the morning, I was the first pilgrim to register and the place was super quiet. I returned to exhausted pilgrims relaxing everywhere. 

View from my bunk … I’m sort of getting a prison vibe, don’t you think?

View from my bedroom balcony

Gaudí’s Episcopal Palace of Astorga

I was able to get a guided tour of Gaudí’s palace. I love the opportunity to practice my Spanish skills plus learn more about the genius that was Antoni Gaudí. 

The tour guide showing the original iron cross from the iconic Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross) monument that is on the Camino Francés. 

Construction began in 1889 as a residence for the Catholic Bishop Juan Bautista Grau Vallespinós. But the bishop died before it was finished so no one has actually lived in it. In 1963 it became a museum. As I mentioned in the post in León, Gaudí only designed three buildings outside of Barcelona. Thanks to the Camino Francés, I am only missing the one in Cantabria. 

Palace’s Dining Room

Front entrance to the palace

Palace with Cathedral in the background

After the Palace tour, I had just enough time to go to a pharmacy to get something for my toe before they closed over the long afternoon siesta. I was not prepared for what came next. The pharmacist was very concerned about the infection and said that I needed to go to the medical center to see a doctor and get a prescription for an oral antibiotic. She explained how to walk there, about a 10-15 minute walk … after walking 7 hour days, it might as well has been next door. Good thing I decided to buy medical insurance for this trip (Allianz through AAA).

This was not my first go around with the Spanish health care system. I ended up in the ER a couple of times in 2018. The care is nice but the facilities are definitely no-frills. 

The good news is that the doctor said no infection. The redness is actually a bruise from the constant impact on the tip of the toes pushing back on the nail bed. I have bruise/blood under the nail so there is a good chance of losing the nail. She drained the new blister on the other foot. She wants me to dress them both with iodine gel, gauze, and dry them out every chance I can get. Time to head back to the pharmacy for the supplies. 

The best part of the appointment came at the end when I was asking about how I pay them. The doctor gave me a hug and said, “This is Spain. Here we take care of the pilgrims. Pilgrims do not pay. We will get paid by God.”

Now I get to walk around the city of Astorga like this! The tale tell sign that one is a pilgrim. This also just added about 15 minutes to my morning prep. 

The guy working the gift shop at Gaudí’s Palace gave me the name of a restaurant away from the tourists where locals like to eat. I eat one meal a day: either the large “comida” at 2:00 pm or an early “cena” (the smaller evening meal). Today I was going to splurge on the “comida”. Did I mention that the “comida” comes with red wine. Just saying. 

Seafood paella

Breaded pork with cheese inside

The absolutely BEST homemade arroz con leche that I have had since being in Spain. 

Now it’s time to walk off all that food. Astorga is a very ancient city. It was an early Roman settlement with Roman bath houses, city walls, the whole BCE package. 

City Hall

City Hall’s clock tower with little dancers that move on the hours

Spent some quiet reflection in this modest neighborhood church

Roman ruins of a wealthy family’s house.

Roman City Walls

Just a typical summer’s evening hang out spot for the local tweenies when you grow up in a town with city walls. 

31,019 total steps recorded

15 miles hiked

3 hours on trail

Looks like a lazy day compared to a full day of hiking. 

Day 23 - Wednesday, June 18, 2025

Astorga to Foncebadón

Despite the alarm going off at 4:15 am, I didn’t get on trail until 5:45. It was the first attempt at my new morning routine of having to wrap my toes. Since Astorga is a smaller city, it was easier getting out of the city limits. It only took about 30 minutes before I was on open trail again. 

The red cross that is often seen in this area is the cross of the Knights Templar. 

This fox was crossing the path in front of me with a small animal in its mouth. He quickly darted off the path when he saw me, but stopped to give me a look before he disappeared. 

Oh these FLIES! They are following me like a cloud. I feel (or maybe I smell) like Pigpen from the Charlie Brown comics. They like to swarm the handles of my poles. So weird. I have my hood on and wear my buff over my nose and mouth, that seems to make them leave my face alone. 

I find the different way-markers interesting. Each region has their own style and then there are the older ones that continue to point “the way”.

I have been disappointed that so many of the churches have been closed these last couple of weeks. So I was happy when this extremely modest little church was open. The the practical side, it gives my body time to rest. On the spiritual side, it gives a quiet space and time to reflect. 

For as small and modest as this church was, it was interesting that it had this rustic choir loft. 

The saint that believers light candles to is Saint James, aka Santiago. The patron saint of this pilgrimage and of so much of this region. 

I didn’t realize that today would be the day that I would start back into the mountains. I have left the Castilian plains behind and have entered the western edge of the Cantabrian Mountain Range, specifically “Montes de León”.

Foncebadón is a really small village with not a lot of places to stay. I planned on staying at the parroquial albergue, which is a no-reservation first-come first-bed. My issue was that I had made great time on the mountain trail and got into town around 11:30. The albergues do not usually open until 1:00. I was once again faced with the “should I keep going or make it an early day” dilemma. I prayed to the Holy Spirit to give me guidance and discernment. That might sound hokey, but honestly, it’s a weighty decision. At some point your body says, “I’ve had enough, I’m done.” And if you are still an hour or two from the next village, it’s brutal.

I decided to check out the albergue and make my decision. It was super small, rustic, and absolutely no frills. The volunteer came out to greet me and I asked what time she opened. She said that I could register now, she would wash my clothes in the machine, and I could shower up and rest. Thank you, Holy Spirit. Answer received, decision made. 

This is the only bedroom and the bunks are really close together. 

And here it is after it starts to fill up with weary pilgrims crashed out in the afternoon.
Later than evening, the hostess made dinner for anyone who wanted homemade risotto. Yes, please! Then in the morning she prepared a simple breakfast of toast and a variety of spreads, plus coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. 
All of this is done on free-will donation, including the lodging. I love the parroquial albergues. 

36,739 total steps recorded

18 miles hiked

6 hours on trail

Day 24 - Thursday, June 19, 2025

Foncebadón to Ponferrada

It’s 5:45 am and I’m the first pilgrim out the door. This is Virginia from Madrid. She was the volunteer at the albergue but I told her that she was my angel. I told her that I prayed about whether or not I should stay and God showed me the answer through her generosity and hospitality.

In just about a 30-minute hike, I will reach another iconic image of the Camino, the Cruz de Ferro. Instead of paraphrasing another site, here is the cut & paste from www.alberguesdelcamino.com.

The Cruz de Hierro, Cruz de Ferro in Galician, is one of the most symbolic and magical points of interest of the Camino de Santiago. It is located at the highest point of the Camino Francés, in the province of León, between the towns of Maragatos de Foncebadón and Manjarín at 1520 meters above sea level.

The Cruz de Hierro is a 5-meter-high mast with a cross at the top and a stone base that pilgrims have left behind for centuries. It is a ritual that thousands of pilgrims do, but not all of them do it with the same goal.

Next, we are going to see what are the different purposes that pilgrims lead to leave the stone at the foot of the Cruz de Hierro.

1.- To show gratitude

Some pilgrims do it to thank their arrival there after having left hundreds of hard kilometres behind. Also, they ask for help to continue their Camino without problems and reach Santiago.

2.- Leave bad things behind

Others pilgrims carry a stone to the Cross to represent their burden. The stone and the burden are left there, leaving the pilgrim lighter to continue the journey that lies ahead.

3.- Offering

Last but not least, there are pilgrims who lay down the stone to make faith-based petitions. Many do it for themselves and others with a solidarity component.

Although it is not known with certainty what has been the origin of this ritual of depositing the stone at the foot of the cross, there are several theories.

In ancient cultures it was very common to make offerings in symbolic spaces on the roads.

For this reason, it is possible that these rituals were adopted over the years by different people, including the pilgrims who were heading to Santiago.

Nowadays, there are thousands of pilgrims who deposit a stone at the foot of the Cruz de Hierro. Many of them bring the stone from their place of origin and others collect it on the Camino.

All this makes the Cruz de hierro a place full of feelings and emotions, which unites thousands of pilgrims every year on their way to Santiago.

I arrived before the sunrise and everyone was using their headlamps. There were several people that had camped out alongside it, and several more were flowing in so that they could see the sunrise at the Cruz de Ferro.

As the above article states, many people find this site to be almost a holy shrine. The movie “The Way” definitely made a big deal out of. The police chief gives Tom a rock at the start for la Cruz de Ferro; and Sarah gets so emotional that Tom has to finish reading the prayer. This is the standard prayer for the Cruz de Ferro. I am not sure of its origins, but it goes back many years. It’s the prayer that Sarah tries to read:

I saw a lot of people getting very emotional. One person walked off the pile absolutely sobbing. I stayed around for about 30 minutes, a lot longer than I had expected. To be honest, I kept waiting to experience “a moment”. But I just didn’t. I was not overcome by the emotion of unburdening myself, etc. that I had read so much about. Yes, I had brought my rock from home. I sat for a long time on a bench and rolled it around in my fingers. It was a rock from a hike in the Pyrenees. I considered all the reasons why I had chosen it. I tried to conjure up the emotions that I had witnessed other pilgrims having. Nope … it just wasn’t happening. So I climbed to pile and stood there. It was kind of curious how when it came down to the moment of throwing it away, I hesitated. Then I said to myself, “this is stupid”, I tossed it and carried on. 

I guess we will see in the days to come if there was any mystical power behind the action.

Dawn soon broke and the day turned into another wonderful day of hiking on mountain trails. It has been one of my favorite days on the Camino because of that. I did not realize how much I truly missed trekking in the mountains. Of course, I have missing my Pyrenees like crazy. But sometimes I would question myself, was I missing being in the mountains or the person with whom I spent that time? As soon as the terrain changed, I knew the answer. The trail under my feet was so familiar. The vegetation was like seeing old friends again. My feet were dancing over the rocks, performing the choreography  that they had trained for over the past nine years. It all came back so naturally. I was so happy. So very very happy. When people ask, what is your happy place, your Zen spot … this. A mountain trail on the Iberian Peninsula. 

No, I did not look at a weather forecast. Almost 4 hours of hiking it started raining. I love this rain jacket. It has a humpback for the backpack and goes halfway down your calves. Super easy to pull out of the exterior side pocket of the backpack when an unexpected shower pops up. Well, unexpected just because I didn’t look at the forecast. 

I am about to enter the mountain village of Riego de Ambrós. I would add it to the short list of villages where I would like to live. 

The majority of the houses are the original style of mountain living. The bottom level of the house was for livestock and the upper level was the family’s home. The heat from the animals below, would help to warm the living space above. As quaint as it may sound, can you imagine the smell. 

These original houses have since been fully remodeled and now make picturesque village homes. 

This pilgrim was stereotypical French … he even wore the black beret. 

God’s pavement. I love these rock formations. They are very plentiful in the Pyrenees so it out a smile on my face to be travel over them here in the Cantabrian range. 

Almost seven hours after starting out, I found the parroquial albergue … Albergue parroquial San Nicolás de Flüe. It is a new building, built specifically to house 186 pilgrims.

This red cross, which shows up in several photos, is the Cross of Saint James … or the Cross of Santiago. It is in the shape of a sword because here in Spain, Jesus’ apostle James (yes, one of the sons of thunder… brother to John) … that James aka Santiago, is known as “Santiago Matamoros”, translation “James the Moor Slayer”. 

I probably shouldn’t just leave that history hang. It deserves a super quick explanation. The Arabs aka Muslims, invade the Iberian Peninsula in 711 AD. They maintain control over the majority of the peninsula for over 500 years. The Christian kingdoms in the north were continually trying to regain the peninsula. They finally succeeded in 1492 under the monarchy of Ferdinand and Isabel (yes, the Christopher Columbus ones) when the last Muslim kingdom of Granada was conquered. Back up to the year 842 when the king of the northern kingdom of Asturias refused to give 100 Christian virgins to the Muslims. A battle was to take place, the Battle of Clavijo. On the eve of the battle, the king, Ramiro I, dreamt that Saint James told him that God had chosen St. James as the patron saint of the Christian kingdoms. The next day during the battle, Saint James came down from heaven on a white horse and helped to win the battle, killing more than 5,000 Muslims. Hence, James the Moor Slayer. Statues of him on a white horse brandishing a sword are quite common in the churches all over the north. 

The parroquial albergues do not take reservations. I love how civil the pilgrims are. To form the queue, we line up our backpacks. Mine is the maroon one on the corner with the sleep pad attached. Or I should probably call it my back traction pad. 

I have mentioned the Knight Templars several times in this blog. Let me do another quick history lesson in case you do not know exactly what they were. In 1120 the King of Jerusalem decided to create an order of warrior monks to protect the Christian pilgrims coming to Jerusalem. The warrior monks were given a wing of the royal palace that was built on the site of Solomon’s Temple. That is why they became to be known as Knight Templars. The templars had to take a vow of: poverty, chastity, and obedience. They lived in castle-monasteries. (Several of these either still exist in Spain, or their ruins do.) Their order grew and expanded to protecting Christian pilgrims traveling to all holy places. That is why their mark is so prevalent in this part of Spain. I like to think of them as the highway patrol of the Camino. But they had a presence all over medieval Christendom, from England to Israel.

The town that I am staying in tonight, Ponferrada, has a major Templar heritage. It has a remarkably preserved Templar Castle-Monastery, and their red cross is everywhere.  

I’m all checked in, showered and laundry’s done … it’s time to explore the town. As soon as I entered the old city gate, the Templar Cross was everywhere. 

The following are all photos of the Castle of the Templars. I went in as far as the ticket booth and decided not to go in. Still not sure if it was the right choice or not. I have been in other Templar castles in Spain and was feeling kind of worn out. 

But as I am walking away from the castle and down a side street, I start to see these men dresses as Templar knights starting to congregate at a café-bar. I approached a couple of them and asked what was going on. They explained that in July is their huge festival when they do all kinds of Templar re-enactments and the entire community is a big festival. They were strongly encouraging me to come back after I finished the Camino to see it. As a promotional thing for some tv commercials, they were going to be performing and filming in about an hour and I was welcomed to stick around and watch. OK … this was going to be much better than walking through a castle. 

I only took a few photos with my iPhone, I was using my mirrorless DSLR most of the time. But these give you the idea. It was a pretty cool cultural thing to have just stumbled into.  

Into the local church for some quiet reflection time.

And now the most misunderstood cultural item by Americans, the costumes worn during the week long Easter Holy Week “Semana Santa”. They are called “Los trajes de nazareno” and can be traced back to the 1400’s and the time of the Inquisitions. The reason that they are completely covered is so they feel closer to God, that everyone is the same before God, and that during the varias processionals no one knows who the person is so the person can just focus on being nearer to God and not what everyone else thinks. There have been several investigations and research trying to find a link between this ancient Spanish custom and the similar dress of the KKK, but there is none. It is a just a very unfortunate coincidence. I have seen shops in Barcelona that put signs up next to displays of figurines and other souvenirs that read “Not KKK”.

I just checked the weather for tomorrow. No rain, but the temperature for the last two or three hours of hiking is going to be 95°. I decided to move the alarm back 15 minutes to 4:15 am. I need to be on the trail as early as possible to get in the km before the temps start to climb.  

45,493 total steps recorded

23 miles hiked

6-1/2 hours on trail

Day 25 - Friday, June 20, 2025

Ponferrada to Trabadelo

It’s 5:15 am and I’m headed out of the albergue. Unfortunately, I need to find an ATM. I’m not excited at all about standing on the street this early in the morning withdrawing cash, then walking out of the city. But I need the cash. It took me almost 30 minutes to find an ATM that would take my USA debit card. But I got the cash and turned to see a group of three pilgrims just a block away. I hurried up and got in step with them and felt much safer heading out of the city. 

The weather forecast said that the temperature was going to start climbing rapidly starting at 10:00 am and getting up to 95° by noon. So I decided that I was not going to stop walking until 10:00 am. No breaks. Suck it up and keep going. Get as many km covered as I can before the heat comes. 

WOW, to finally see the kilometers hit the 100’s … considering I started in the 700’s, it’s a little mind boggling. 

Several hours of passing through vineyards. 

This image was so idyllic. Of course, the photo does not quite capture how cool it was. This isolated house in the middle of grape vines and those couple of interesting trees. It was really cool. 

“Gate of Forgiveness” and “Church of Santiago”

The Church of Santiago was built as a church and hospital for pilgrims that got too sick during the pilgrimage to continue on to Santiago. They were given a special “pass” and granted forgiveness for their transgressions, just like as if they had made it to Santiago. That is why the gate became known as the Gate of Forgiveness. I image that many probably never left this building alive.

It’s 10:10 am and I am already in the village that is considered the day’s stopping point, Villafranca del Bierzo. It’s way too early to stop for the day. But it is past my 10:00 goal. As soon as I find a café open, I’ll get some protein in me and figure out where I can spend the night. 

I realize that this might look
Like a lot for 10:30 in the morning. But I just walked over 5 hours not stop on an empty stomach. This is toasted bread with olive oil, tomato spread, eggs, and a cured ham called jamón serrano. It was AMAZING! 

Alright, 45 minutes later, I’ve got a full stomach, rested legs, and a plan for spending the night. There is a parochial albergue in a little village called Trabadilo. It’s just under two hours away. Perfect timing to get out of the heat. 

Most villages to not bury their dead in the ground like we do in the USA. They have these family vaults. Javi explained it to me once. The short explanation is, they put the corpse in the little compartment, let the body decompose down to just the bones. Push the bones to the back when the next family member dies and add the recently deceased. Sorry if that sounded harsh. I’m sure there is more to it but that’s sort of the basics. 

I took an alternative path that got me off the highway and into the mountains. It adds several km to today’s tally but if I have to be hiking in 95° heat, I am going to be surrounded by nature, not next to concrete and cars. 

“Listen to your intuition.”

12:50 pm, I made it to the albergue and the incredibly nice guy, Francisco, who runs it was open and ready to let me start the now very well known routine: register, shower, hand-wash clothes, rest, explore, eat, go to bed.

I have to brag on this humble albergue and Francisco. This guy has dedicated himself to this quaint little establishment and to the pilgrims that pass through it. He and I shared an amazing conversation. Some people may think it was a little over sharing but it fit the moment. 

Francisco, or Fran as the Spanish nickname goes, is originally from Granada in the south of Spain. I place him somewhere in his 40’s. He was married for 25 years. He wanted children but his wife never did. Then, after 25 years of marriage, she leaves him for his best friend. He said that he was so depressed that nothing helped him. Until someone told him to do the Camino. He started in Granada on a route called Mozárabe. It is one of the longest routes in Spain to Santiago, and one of the hottest. It brought him out of his depression and helped him come to terms with the events of his life. His parents have since both passed away and so he has no family. He says to me, “You pilgrims are my family. Each one of you.” He now lives and breathes for the very thing that saved his life, the Camino. He lives at the albergue and works 12 months out of the year, keeping the albergue open even during the winter months. 

At this point, I am probably about 5 or 6 days from reaching Santiago. The last 100 km get insanely busy and it gets difficult to find lodging because the minimum distance someone has to walk to earn the official certificate (called the Compostela) is 100 km. Several summer youth programs along with other large groups fill up the albergues. 

Fran was concerned that I had not yet made any reservations for the upcoming days. He asked me how many kilometers I walk in a day. I told him about 30. The next thing I know, Fran has out his map, his phone, and a list of albergues. I kept telling him how much I appreciated his help but he didn’t need to do it. However, I could tell how much joy it gave him to help me, that I let him keep going.  He starts calling and before I know it, my next three nights are booked. He would have gotten me all the way to Santiago but I told him to stop to give me the ability to modify my plans for the last couple of days. 

47,351 total steps recorded

23 miles hiked

7.5 hours on trail

Day 26 - Saturday, June 21, 2025

Trabadelo to Fonfría

Today I will enter Galicia. For anyone not familiar with Spain’s governmental breakdown, here’s an overview. Spain is a Constitutional Monarchy. After the national government, the country is divided into “autonomous communities”, each with its own governing body. This is the part that does not have an equivalent in the USA. The autonomous communities more or less are the ancient kingdoms. Galicia is the autonomous community where Santiago de Compostela is located. These regions are very very prideful. They have their own distinct cultures, food, histories, some … like Galicia, even have their own language. In Galicia they speak Gállego. It’s more similar to Portuguese than to Castellano, aka Spanish. To quickly end the political lesson: the autonomous community is divided into provinces which would be similar to our states. The provinces are broken into counties, just like the USA.

Even though once crossing into Galicia, I will still have roughly 100 miles still to go (161 km), just being in the autonomous community makes it seem like almost the end. Galicia is known for its lush green mountains and its rainy climate. It has been compared to Ireland in more ways than one. The geography is very similar and in addition so is its culture. Both regions were settled by the ancient Celts (pronounced with a hard K), that came out of north Central Europe before the Roman Empire. The language Gállego is a Latin language but does have slight influences of the ancient Celt languages. In addition, bagpipes are a key elements in Galicia’s traditional music. 

The heat is to continue today so I was on the trail by 5:15 am, which meant headlamp.

But I use the word “trail” loosely because the first hour looked like this. A large majority of the pilgrimage I am in nature. But from time to time, the trail has to run alongside highways. Ironically, these portions of the Camino are the more authentic route that the pilgrims of the Middle Ages traveled because they traveled the established trade routes aka the “highways” of that age. Those trade routes evolved into the modern day highway system. 

I am not sure why but I feel really weak this morning. Normally it’s at least three-four hours before I think about stopping. But this morning, it’s just a little over an hour into my hike and I feel the need to stop. The obstacle is the hour. There are very few places that are open this early. The ones that are, do so to cater to the pilgrims. As the expression goes, the Camino provides.

I entered the tiny village of Ambasmestas. It’s one of these village that would have died out years ago if it wasn’t for the Camino de Santiago. As I entered, I could see a glow coming from only one building. It was still dark, I could see a tall Viking looking guy in an immaculate kitchen. Through the window I could see a Nordic table set with bowls of yogurt and juice. I saw Nordic because the bench seats had sheep’s skins covering them just like I saw in Iceland and Denmark. I wandered around the Zen inspired garden until I found an open door, it was the back door to the kitchen. I excused myself and asked if I could have breakfast. Straight out of a Hollywood movie, I was greeted like a member of the family that had wandered in from the cold. I proceeded to have the most AMAZING bowl of yogurt, muesli, blueberries, and honey that I have ever had. Anyway, that is what my brain was telling me. 

Peeking in the window at the kitchen. 

As I am finding to be a pattern for me on this pilgrimage, there are times when I am so “in the moment” that I don’t think to take a photo. This was one of those moments. “The Viking” was Knut from Denmark. He was one of those angels along the Camino. I cannot imagine a single pilgrim leaving his establishment without their heart filled with compassion and love from Knut. He is one of a kind. When I left, the sun had risen so I took some photos of the outside. His picture is on the poster hanging on the side of the house. 

I found it quite ironic that Knut’s Zen garden with its Buddha statues and establishment named “House of the Sun. The light” was just a few feet from the Catholic Church, which oddly was open at 7:00 am. 

So many of these churches have their original baptismal fonts. 

For the next hour and a half, I traded the highway for narrow rural blacktops that took me through pretty little villages that were just started to wake up.

Spain brags to the world about their green energy. Windmills are a major part of their renewable energy sources. But it seems like the people are starting to rebel against it here like we are in the USA.

This banner is written in Gállego so I am not sure exactly what it says but I can understand the intent. NO WINDMILLS in their region. These banners were EVERYWHERE!

My heart was full when I saw this wall of succulents. As a child, my grandma had these and then my mom started them on our retaining wall. Grandma called them chicks and hens and I have no idea why but as a little girl I was fascinated by them. I cannot see them today without being flooded with memories of my grandmother’s unconditional love. I had to laugh though, I only just now realized that as a child I always thought that Grandma was saying “chickens and hens” which as an adult, I realize would be redundant.

Shortly after the above photo was taken, the trail left the road and started into the mountains. This day is known as being just as challenging as the first day crossing the Pyrenees. Considering I was sick with a stomach flu and still made it over the mountain, I am looking forward to kicking some mountain butt today!

Somewhere in the hills of Galicia, there was acceptance.

Somewhere in the hills of Galicia, I moved on.

The first village of Galicia is called O Cebreiro. It is an “end stage” meaning that the guide books say that the pilgrim has put in a full day and this is the village to spend the night. I stopped staying at end stages weeks ago. It’s called staying “off stage”. It’s my typical way of traveling no matter where I am … get with the locals, isolate from the tourists, smaller the better. Plus, I was getting to the programmed end stages too early in the day. It only made sense for me to keep going. 

I took this photo just as I was about to enter O Cebreiro. I could hear church bells because it was right at 10:00 am and bagpipes! I thought to myself, “Now that’s a Gállego church!”

But as I left the clearing of the trees, this gentleman was at the end of the trail welcoming the pilgrims into Galicia in true Gállego style.  

FYI: When it comes to street performers, I have my personal rule: if I take their photo or record them, I put money in their hat. 

Galicia has its own thing going on when it comes to traditional buildings. You will not find these structures anywhere else in Spain. 

I am alongside the roof so you can see the detail. 

I just have to say “respect” to this homeowner. The Bible says not to hide your light under a bushel. You cannot get any more declaration that putting the Holy Communion in stone on your house. 

I am on my way to the first of three albergues that my buddy Fran booked for me. Having a reservation takes away the stress of trying to get to the albergue before they fill up. The plus side is being able to slow down and enjoy the moment a little more. The downside is you are taking control and part of the Camino experience is to let go, give it to God, and let the Camino provide. I consider Fran one of my Camino angels, like Knut this morning. So even though I have the reservations, I put it under the “Camino  provides” column. 

At O Cebreiro, the Camino gives two options: a longer alternative route that takes you through forests, or the shorter standard traditional route that follows the blacktop. Guess which one I took.

My albergue was on the east side of the village and one of the first things that I saw.

The place did not look like much from the outside but on the inside it was 100% spa! What an awesome surprise after an exhausting day, physically and emotionally. The nerve in my back was killing me so I booked a massage for 3:00. That gives me just enough time to shower under the rain shower head and pay to wash my disgustingly sweaty clothes in a washing machine! I said SPA! 

I showed the German woman who gave me the massage the X-Ray of my neck and explained the C7 nerve damage. I had also discovered a trigger point keep in my armpit where the C7 crosses into the arm. In order to release the pain, I lie on my back and stretch that arm over head. That’s how I discovered that trigger point. She went to town on in. I didn’t have to explain too much where it was, she could feel it. Her problem was that it was too deep and she didn’t have the strength in her thumb to break it apart. She said, “I’ll need to use the tool.” It was a metal thing that she was able to press into the trigger point and hold it until the fibers broke a part. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I started breathing like I was in labor. She asked if ai wanted her to stop … Heck no! Get it done! Breaking a part that trigger point would provide me almost a week of relief. I wasn’t 100% pain-free but well under intensity of the past weeks. I think that we may have discovered the main source of the pain. 

The family style dinner was served in a traditional building across the street. I sat next to a lovely French couple who had started a month before me in northern France. They were in their sixties, obviously very active. She had just survived cancer and they would be in Santiago on his birthday and Finisterre on her birthday. We had to communicate through a translator app but we became fast friends and exchanged WhatsApp contacts. 

45,275 total steps recorded

22 miles hiked

8 hours on trail

Day 27 - Sunday, June 22, 2025

Fonfría to Barbadelo

I have complained about my feet on this blog and even have shared images some of you probably wished that I hadn't. But you need to see the good with the bad. A part of doing the Camino is being able to fight through the bad stuff, to press on despite X, Y, or Z. I wanted to share what I have to do every morning for my feet. 

1. Check every toe, heels, etc. for any tender spots that would indicate a blister at the end of the day. If found, cover with Compeed. Since I have been blessed with my Grandma Kierscht’s bunions, I also check every nail for any sharp spots that will bully the neighboring toe.

2. Cover my big toe the way the doctor instructed me. 

2a. Assemble all material. Cut strips of tape. 

2b. Apply the iodine gel which is the most popular wound care product here in Spain. It seems to work well except it stains. 

3. Vaseline! When I was preparing for this trip, the method of slathering your feet in Vaseline was the most important advice given on the various websites. It prevents blisters by reducing the friction of the skin rubbing. 

4. Toe sock liners. Again, anything that prevents your skin rubbing against other skin. You can tell the Americans because we all wear these liners. 

5. Regular hiking socks over the toe liners. And I’m ready to go. The whole process added 20 minutes to my morning routine. Without the current big toe issue, 10 minutes top.

5:30 am and I am on the trail. 

I am going to miss that albergue. It was amazing. It is only for pilgrims, so it’s not like I can just go back and stay sometime. How do they know whether you are a pilgrim? You have to provide your credencial at check-in and they stamp & date it. The credencial, also known as “the pilgrim passport” is what will be reviewed in Santiago to prove the distance and dates traveled. The establishments have had to register their stamps with the official Pilgrims’ Association.

I mentioned that Galicia is really green and known for its rain. It’s also known for the early morning mist that settles down over the mountains and makes everything wet, including you if you are hiking in it. 

Sunrise in the mountains of Galicia

This is why I start hiking so early. It is an important part of my pilgrimage to be alone in nature, witnessing the awakening of God’s creation.

The Iberian Penisula has been the site of very important prehistoric anthropological discovers. There are caves with some of the best preserved cave drawings in the world. You used to be able to go see them, but like so many over-tourism sites, they are now off limits to the public. 

Enjoy some of today’s hike’s images:

This is an 800 year old chestnut tree along the path.

Unfortunately, the church is locked, but I love the shells on the gates. 

This is the first time I saw a village’s church surrounded by the cemetery … but it won’t be the last. In the small villages of Galicia, this seems to be the norm.

Oops! I should have done my homework last night. The route to the left is about 5 miles longer. A quick check of my guidebook says that it is more challenging, and more scenic. My poles tell you which one I chose.

Despite starting out alongside a highway, it was still a beautiful route. There were gorgeous cliffs to my right that took me back to my beloved Pyrenees. On the left side was a River so I listened to the sounds of the water in between the not very frequent cars. 

Once off the highway, the trail turned into everything that I had hoped for. 

There was only one town during the entire hike, Samos. But I don’t want to mislead you. I went through countless small ghost-villages. It was really interesting. There may have been one property that showed some sort of life. As the popularity of the Camino explodes, it will be interesting to know if any of these get a second-chance at life. The mountain stone architecture is so beautiful, it would be amazing to see some of them restored. 

My first glance at Samos. The only village with signs of life. 

Without having done my homework last night, I had no idea what the village of Samos was known for. It has this super famous monastery that people from all over Spain come to see. It is said to have some sort of magical spiritual energy. There is an albergue in it, so several pilgrims plan to stay the night here. Had I known, I definitely would have organized my days so that I did. But it’s 10:00 in the morning so I clearly will be moving on through. 

At this point, I have been hiking for almost five hours straight with no stopping and no breakfast. Samos seemed like the perfect place to refuel. I planned on stopping at the first place I see. As I’m crossing the street to the café, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was one of my buddies from San Nicolas (feet washing albergue). He saw me about the same time as I saw him and we met in the middle of the street in a hug. I love this kid. He’s just a few years older than William, born in Spain to American parents. A little lost in life, like most of us were at his age. He starts an internship with his church in Madrid when he finishes the Camino. Despite our age difference, he will probably be of of the few people that I maintain contact with post-Camino.

Loaded up on protein and after a mini-reunion with Andrés, it’s back on the trail.

I thought that tree was super interesting. 

I am coming into the Camino famous city of Sarria. Pilgrims, like myself, who started their pilgrimage weeks ago, dread coming into Sarria. Why? In order to be officially registered as having accomplished the Camino de Santiago, a person must have walked a minimum of 100 km. Sarria is the largest city just a little more than 100 km outside of Santiago de Compostela. It has become the starting point for people who only want to get the Compostela and willing only to do the minimum to get it. Others might not have the time available to them to be gone from their daily life for weeks on end, so this gives them the chance to accomplish the Pilgrimage in the time they have. I think that I have said this before but I will mention it again. In Spain, people put the accomplishment of earning the Compostela on their resumes. The majority of people that start in Sarria are Spaniards. Either way, the trails get crowded, noisy, and the lodging accommodations scarce. 

I was staying at an albergue out in the middle of the country, not a town in sight, 6 km past Sarria. I just wanted to move through Sarria quickly and get to my bed. Even though I enjoyed my unexpected alternate route 100%, my body was starting to feel those extra 5 miles. 

So this staircase reads like the wonderful little city planning details that tourists love … except if you’ve already been on your feet for over 8-1/2 hours. 

Sarria was a huge party. There were DJ’s blasting music from the streets, the party in the bars spilled out onto the sidewalks, loud people every where. Every thing that I had heard Sarria to be.

Almost two hours later I was checking into my rural hideaway. There was a church built in the 900’s just a few yards away. So after showering and laundry … the daily routine, I took a walk to check out the church. Unfortunately it was locked but I sat down in front of it and recorded a video for the family back home. Since we were in the middle of no where, the only option for dinner was the family-style communal meal. It was nothing fancy … not like the night before! But I was grateful for it and the peace of the surrounding. Now off to bed. 

Once again, the church was surrounded by the cemetery. 

53,043 total steps recorded

25.4 miles hiked

10 hours on trail

Day 28 - Monday, June 23, 2025

Barbadelo to Ventas de Narón

I have finally made it to the end of week 4. It’s been one heck of a long week. Scrolling back over the above posts, it feels like all those things were done over a two-week span, not just one. Not only did I enter Galicia this week, I also got within 100 km of Santiago de Compostela. It is a major marker for pilgrims. Let’s check out this last day of Week 4.

5:30 am start time

The OFFICIAL marker! 100 km to go (62 miles) … I started with 780 (500 miles).

What the Jabba the Hut is this?!?! It is obviously in the slug family but it is not your typical Iberian slug which is almost black, long and about the circumference of an adult’s finger. It was on top of the stone wall. It almost acted like it had a pebble or twig stuck underneath it. It was weird but fascinating. 

These are your typical Iberian slug that can be found in any damp forestry area. Their name in Spanish has always given me a laugh: babosa /bah • boh • sah/.

I love this! It reminds me of what my village used to be like before it was turned into a tourist haven. The farmer is taking the cows out to graze for the day. In the evening he will go and get them and hers them back to the barnyard. It gives practical meaning to the expression “When the cows come home.”

The family has diversified and also opened a trailside café. I have been hiking for over three hours at this point and there had not been a single place open to get something g to eat or drink. I had been going without any breakfast or stopping for a break so this was a welcomed sight. I was really hungry so I decided to do the large late breakfast then not eat again until later at night.

I could not resist … they had literally just taken these homemade pastries from the oven. The butter was still melted on the top. They are filled with a dark chocolate filling. So delicious with a café con leche. 

The classic and traditional cake of Galicia. It is called Torta de Santiago. It is a really moist sponge cake. It always has the cross of Saint James (Santiago) on the top.

I loved this place! I was imagining asking them if I could come back some summer and work for room and board. I would help with the farm or the restaurant. I wouldn’t care. I loved the small village, the culture … it just makes me happy.

These are the same cows … chilling in their green pastures. 

The Guardia Civil on horseback. I feel sorry for the Guardia Civil because they go through a similar “anti-police” sentiment like in the USA, except the reason is because historically the Guardia Civil was the enforcement arm of the Dictator Francisco Franco. Some people just have not been able to look at the uniform without a sense of fear or resentment. Of course, nowadays they are an honorable organization just like our law enforcement. It was cool to see them looking after the pilgrims on horseback. 

Crossing a really long bridge to get into the city of Portomarín.

Once over the bridge, I still have the Medieval staircase to climb. Always up! I know that historically cities and villages were built on hills for protection but seriously …  

Up up up we go!

“You are wonderful and luminous as the mountain in the morning.”

The church in the main square was open so I entered for some quiet reflection time. I have really felt God working inside of me ever since I got to Galicia. I was beginning to think that I was going to walk all the way across the Iberian Peninsula without any significant change. A small number of you know my motivation for this pilgrimage. But the majority of you probably have been assuming that I was just off on another one of my odd adventures. The truth is that I have gone through a very difficult heartbreak and have spent the past ten months in a pretty dark place.  

As I was knelt in reflection my heart broke wide open and I began to sob. It was a moment long overdue. 

Walking out of the city of Portomarín provided amazing vistas and the opportunity to compose myself and process what had just happened. Then I came upon this sign …

You cannot make this stuff up. I know it sounds crazy but too many times on this Camino, the message that I need at that moment seems to appear!

Another split trail gave the typical two choices: longer, harder, more nature or shorter, not as intense, usually alongside a road. By now you know my choice. 

I know this sounds totally clichè, but I feel lighter. 
My backpackfeels lighter. I mean a lot lighter and my back doesn’t hurt. I actually was thinking what am I forgetting? Did I leave something behind somewhere? I don’t think there’s anyway that could be possible. It’s just that everything seems lighter. I don’t feel like I’m carrying any weight anymore.

“Your cell phone is spying on you.”

The little structure in the back are unique to Galicia. They were used to store grain and are now strictly protected by law as historical structures. I will create a post of them separately. 

Yes. Yes it does!

“If only you could see what I could see, then you would also say, I love me.”

Sometimes the trail gives way to having to walk alongside the highway.

Always choose the “Road less travel” … it usually does make all the difference.

Somewhere in the Hills of Galicia, I set myself free.

Love this rustic homemade sign 

It has been a hot day and I still have about an hour and a half to go. At least I have a reservation so mentally it’s just pushing through the physical discomfort and I’m not worrying about getting to the albergue before it fills up. Adding to the physical discomfort is that I have run out of water and the villages in Galicia do not  have the tradition of a public fountain like in other parts of Spain. The salt-in-the-wound is that they also don’t have a small café/bar to get something to drink either. 

Finally, this small village has a bar open and I go inside to buy an Aquarius and ask for them to fill my water bottle. As I was quietly downing my Aquarius I noticed two American men at a table. One was trying to ask the waitress something in mixed English/Spanish, the teacher in me just couldn’t keep her mouth shut so I interjected. That was the start of a friendship between Andy from California, Mike from New York, and the Iowa girl. We talked for a long time but I finally needed to get on trail. So we said our goodbyes. 

I had reached my albergue and was in the process of the routine, “handwashing clothes stage” to be exact, when I saw Andy and Mike walking by. I called out and they stopped. I introduced them to my Spanish friend “tinto de verano”. We talked for another hour before they had to get going. They were still over an hour from their albergue. We exchanged WhatApp info and have proceeded to maintain contact. They had both started in Sarria but I promised them that I would only hold it against them a little bit. 

Tinto de verano after a long hot and emotional but so very worth it day. 

45,833 total steps recorded

22 miles hiked

10 hours on trail

End of Week 4

What a week it’s been. I am not sure if I can call them lightning bolts, but I definitely heard from the heavens this week. Life has changed. I have changed. The past may not be able to change, but the way I process it can change … it has and will continue to change. They say that the Camino changes your life. Four weeks ago, I was hopeful. A week ago, I was skeptical.  Now I am grateful.