Above the Clouds

We stepped out of our albergue in Hospital and into a dark fog. The sun was not yet up over O Cebreiro. We gave a cursory examination to a pre-Romanesque church and then hit the rolling ridge line to Alto do Poio. As the sun hit our backs, the fog parted, revealing green patchwork fields below. The guidebook called the climb to Alto do Poio short and steep. If it were any steeper we'd have needed ropes. We popped over the end of the ridge and started to follow a shallow downhill grade beside the road. We were above the fog, filling the valleys below. I love this view. We get it cycling back in WNC, particularly when we ride up to Pisgah early in the morning. After a mile we were back into the fog. I was a bit frustrated with the fog but that's my problem. I felt that we had truly earned the views but instead we were inside a cloud.

We stopped for coffee in a one café town and ran into Mark from Copenhagen. He had stayed with us two nights ago and then again briefly last night. We had been the only 3 pilgrims at our albergue in Hospital when Mark dragged in soaked to the core. He paid, picked out a bed and showered. He was on his bed sewing when we left for dinner. Before we had finished our soup he was in full kit and poncho popping into the restaurant to tell us that he was pushing on. His friend from England had just passed through and convinced Mark to push on 3 more villages. It was ambitious, especially in the dark and pouring rain. We said goodbye and returned to our soup. Anyway, after walking 10k since Hospital we found Mark and his friend still having breakfast at our coffee break. I've encountered this same phenomenon randonneuring many times. Someone stops early and others push on. Then the one who stopped early gets going earlier and catches the others the following morning. This coffee stop was the café attached to the only pilgrim accommodations in town. It in fact was the only building in town that didn't contain cows. The barista was an older woman who barely fit behind the bar. This was not because she was large. The behind-the-bar space was unbelievably tight. It didn't hinder her performance. She was taking great care in steaming the milk that was being produced by the cows walking past her front door. Clare had a hot chocolate and it was heaven in a cup. First the milk was steamed. Then the chocolate was added and it was re-steamed for mixing. Then after Clare had consumed 2/3s of her hot chocolate the barista refilled her cup and then left the pitcher! Warmed up we returned to the trail.

As we got lower we re-entered the chestnut forests. They are beautiful trees. I love walking on the prickly but cushioning husks which often helped us cross muddy sections today. It gives me a glimpse as to what it must have looked like in the forests of the eastern United States before the chestnut blight. I hope they make a comeback. Very tasty roasted too which we've been enjoying along the Way.

As we descended the narrow steep gulley into Triacastela we met a herd of cows being shepherded in the opposite direction. We stepped off the path and I wished the farmer a Buen Camino. He said Sí, a Francia!

I don't usually take pictures of dead animals but then again they don't usually match my shoes perfectly. Over a couple miles along the section in and past Tricastela there were squished salamander-looking creatures all over the road. They are about 6" long, black with yellow spots. I'd love to see one alive but it wasn't to be.

After lunch in Triacastela it was decision time. Take the long way by the river through Samos, or up and over on the shorter route. We went high. It was supposed to be the less scenic route. The other route must be something special because I loved ours. We reconnected with Max and Gracia today and are staying with them in an institutional albergue in Calvor. It is the only game in town. You know what happens when there is no competition. Let's just say we won't be sad to go.

Once again there is a kitchen with NO utensils. You can't even boil water unless you brought a pot. Just like everyone else staying here we walked the 0.5 K into the village to eat at the bar. Since the bartender was also the cook we reconnected with the slow food movement. It was really good though. We finally had a soup with the leaves from the tall plants found in every garden. It looks like a cabbage mated with a brussel sprout plant and then grew up to 8'. On our way back to our albergue in the dark the almost super moon lit our way. Our big day is behind us. Our feet are so happy to be in bed. We will go inside 100k to Santiago tomorrow and thus will begin collecting two stamps per day. We are getting there. We should be in Santiago by Friday, with the help of God, as my mother would always say.