6 Nations Time

I'm planning a walk for later this year so wanted to make sure the blogsite still works, hence this posting. January has been quiet which is normal after Xmas but also because we've been off the demon drink for the month. However, having tickets for Wales v Italy at Cardiff marked the start of the Six Nations and the end of abstention and an opportunity to get some blog material.

9.00 am was the set time for the bus to leave Cheltenham and twelve hardy souls boarded en route for the pleasure palaces of Cardiff. Jill and Vee took the "teacher" seats at the front while the "bad boy" seats at the back were bagged by Taff, Gavin and assorted miscreants. The overall view was that it would be a Welsh win but the points difference was in much debate. As we approached the Severn bridge there was bright sunshine (yes, amazing) and the flooded Gwent levels gave the appearance of a snowy wilderness so bright was the sun. But the rain would come soon enough, we knew. it's like that in Wales.

Lunch was taken at the Traders Tavern, a "proper" Cardiff pub with atmosphere. I was asked if Dave's curry should be served "`alf and `alf" in proper Cardiffian fashion. The ladies shopped while the menfolk had a beer and swapped stories of happy times spent supporting the national team.  The party was greatly improved by the arrival of Mike Inkpen and his "lucky" Welsh rugby scarf. This scarf hasn't seen the inside of  a washing machine since Gareth Edwards turned out for Gwaen-Cae-Gurwen under 9's but it is now almost as much of the party as is Inky. It's certainly had as much beer poured down it. Then on to the stadium through streets packed with red-shirted, dragon-painted hordes. Wales were poor and just managed a win so we'll need to pull out the collective fingers to match the intensity that both England and France showed in Paris.

The excellent France v England game was watched on TV in a packed Traders Tavern with each French score sparking the communal singing of La Marseilliase.

The bus delivered us safely back to Montpellier at a reasonable hour. The blurred effect  is partly due to poor camera-ship and partly to protect innocent parties falling off the bus. Another lovely day out in Cardiff with very dear old friends. Thanks to Martyn for organising the bus, to Taff Powell for the tickets and Rupes for picking us up at the end of the day.

"This is the end....."-Portomarin to Santiago

By the time you get to Portmarin there are only 98 km to walk and we decided to do 88 km in three days and leave us a short day into the city where we´d have plenty of time to wash clothes, get haircuts and look around. Jill was arriving on the next day so I was very, very happy.

On the way our "digs" in Ponta Campagna were brilliant. The owners of the alburgue had converted a water mill where we had a room. We ate home-cooked Galician food in the communal dining room of the albergue with lots of others and had a great meal for 10 euro (inc wine).

I expected an easy run in from there but we crossed river valley after river valley and there were plenty of climbs and descents in this very green and pleasant land. After all this time I´m much better equipped to do the climbs having lost a bit of weight and being much fitter.

By this stage we were both looking forward to finishing. A few days of damp weather meant stuff we'd washed hadn't dried so we had no dry clothes to wear and, to be honest, we did pong a bit.We were both very happy to walk into the cathedral square but it started to rain (it rains as much here as it does in Wales). We were looking forward to seeing friends in the square but the rain kept everyone inside so it was a bit of an anti-climax.

Friday was a different day and the sun shone. I picked Jill up from the airport and we joined Irv in the city and met many of the people we´d walked with along the camino. This is a young man, Kepa, who we´d been bumping into over the last ten days or so and we bumped into him again in Santiago. He is part of a crazy American family. Mum and Gran have carried him for 500 miles while his Dad has carried the big rucksack. Not only do they have to walk this very hard trail but they have to look after a 13 month old lad and carry all the stuff you need, like nappies. He's been photographed so many times that whenever a camera is pointed at him he beams-true professional. Inspirational people. I only had to look after Irv and that was tough enough.

Talking of Irv, we´ve had a great time together. It´s been a real pleasure to travel with him and we´ve laughed and sung all the way. The Camino is a tough challenge and it´s nice to have someone to share the hard times along the way. Our daily brunch of tortilla and beer was always a high point of my day.

We were both awarded our "Compostellas" (the certificates confirming that the pilgrimage was completed) and had a look around the cathedral.The photo outside marked the end of this part of our journey.

Like the pre-Christian Celts we´re off to Fisterra (the Gallician one) but in a hire car. By chance we'll be there to celebrate the summer solstice. The trip began with the sun coming up from the east as we crossed the channel and I hope to finish it by watching the sun set in the west from the "end of the world" of the ancients. One more blog from there and that's all.

"It´s such a perfect day"-Pontferrada to Portomarin

The walk from Pontferrada to Villafranca was lovely as we walked through vineyards and little villages.

We were truly ripped off for two cold cokes by a wiley local but when we asked him about the vines he got a bottle out and charged our mugs with tinto. He regaled us with stories of how he´d exhibited at various wine fairs all over Europe. A real character.

Villafranca is a nice place with tons of old buildings but we were so tired we stayed on the same side of the bridge as our albergue, had a meal then a brandy in a little bar overlooking the ancient bridge and watching the house martins.

We knew the climb to the Alto de Poyo, the last major ascent before Santiago, would be tough so we decided to book a hotel about 2.5km before the top and spread the climb over two days. The climb takes you into Gallicia, the last province on the Camino and we struck lucky in our choice. The views from our albergue were wonderful, a bit like parts of north Wales. Gallician music (a bit like Breton music-You tube Alain Stivell for a listen) was playing out of the bar and the sun was shining. We sat drinking tinto and watching the pilgrims compete for space with the village cows-celtic heaven on earth. Best day on the Camino.

The next day we walked up to the summit from where the views are spectacular.

After a steep descent the camino makes its way through Gallician country lanes much like you´d see in Devon (but with little stone bridges over the streams).

I wasn´t expecting much from Portomarin as it´s a new town; the old one having been "drowned" by a reservoir. How wrong could I be? They´d moved a lot of the old buildings up to the new town and it was brilliant. The day we arrived there a band was playing Gallician music and a there was a

car rally. Photo for my brother Dave.

We´re not that far from Santiago now but have a few heavy days of walking to get within 10km for the walk into town on 20th. So looking forward to seeing Jill on 21st. One more blog when I get to Santiago.

"....dros y mynydd...." Leon to Pontferrada

After a couple of days in Leon it was time to hit the road. Couldn´t resist another picture of storks, this time an urban couple with a young one who had nested on top of a Roman pillar in the old part of the city. very good address. We had a couple of days of steady climb towards the mountains and along the way met a young man giving out hot and cold drinks and fruit from the back of a cart. It was all free and he asked only for a donation. He lived in the shack behind and had no electricity nor water yet he devoted himself to helping pilgrims. Lovely guy.

But the mountains were calling and we headed on towards Astorga. The choice of accom here was a 90 bed municipal hostel (5 euro each) and the 3 star hotel in the Plazza Mayor (34 euro each) with terrific views of the old town hall.. No contest and we revelled in the luxury of it all. Real bacon and scrambled eggs for breakfast as well.

The next day was a steady climb to Rabanal in preparation for the climb up to the Cruz de Fer, the huge cross under which pilgrims traditionally leave a pebble. They also leave other stuff likes flags and shoes so this romantic spot looks like a bit like a rubbish tip. The weather at the top is notoriously fickle and on the day we did it the weather was a mixture of low cloud, fine rain and very cold. If I wanted weather like that I´d go to Rhyader in November. For the first time I asked myself what I was doing on the camino. I could be scoffing cozze and linguini with Jill and having a leisurely float in my rubber ring in the Adariatic. I was not a happy pilgrim. My mood changed when we emerged into the sunshine and relative warmth of the next valley.

We were also sad to "lose" two of our travelling companions who had to press on to Santiago. We met Suzanne from Vancouver when she heard us singing "Try to catch the wind" and came over to talk to us about the song. We have eaten meals with her many evenings and we´ve laughed together at the absurdity of our trip. If you read this Susanne have a great time with husband and daughter on tour. Sonja, from Chicago, has also had to hurry on. The phrase "Camino chic" is an oxymoron but she was able to pull it off with a sun hat which was part Beau Geste and part T.E. Lawrence. Here she is warming herself in front of the fire in a hostel just before the Cruz de Fer.

Some of the villages in the mountains are very like the sort you see in the Alps but much more run-down.

The town of Ponferrada (maybe it isn´t spelled quite like that) awaited us with it´s great Templar fortress which we were really looking forward to seeing. Being a Monday it was shut and without a  siege ladder we just had to accept it.

My Spanish is coming along but I do use the odd bit of French and Italian when I´m stuck, Irv has a Masters in Linguistics and cringes at my attempts but it seems to work for me. I even got my blood tested in Leon hospital where none of the staff spoke English. I love Spanish though. Can you believe you can say things like "Eh hombre, que passa" and not feel like an extra in a poor Western movie.

Next few days we´re up country then in the mountains but now less than 200 km to go. "Hasta la vista".

"I´m walking on sunshine" - Burgos to Leon

This is the killer stretch in the middle of the camino; 180km through the country with a lot of it on the high Meseata where the wind can really blow. It was difficult to leave Burgos which is a fine city and a spectacular cathedral, if a bit sombre and dark in only the way the Spanish art and iconography can be.

We have decided to keep staying in small hostels although we have been to a few of the refuges. The one we went to a day out of Burgos had a bed bug problem although it seems to have been limited to another dormitory (a South African lady we met said her bed was infested) as we haven´t had a problem. Someone told us, counter-intiuitavely, the way to avoid them is sleep naked under the woolen blankets rather than sleep in you clothes and bag (they get into the linings apparently) and have as hot a shower as you can stand the next day. No, it doesn´t work for me either. Having said that we know lots of people who stay in refuges every night and most have not had a problem. I think it gives a more authentic pilgrim experience but I hate being woken by pilgrims with head torches at 5.00 am getting ready to hit the road. It just shows that everyone does the Camino in their own way though.

We´ve met some really nice people from all over the world. The most inspiring person is an Aussie lady (left) who has a swollen foot so big that she can´t get her walking boot on and she is doing 20 plus km per day in a pair of shoes. Well done Robyn. When I´m cursing my blisters I think of you. We are walking at about the same pace as two German brothers named Hans and Pieter, Irish Allan and Murray the Kiwi who would pass for a Tolkein wizard (apart from his hiking shorts). We have the "Pilgrim meal" (8-10 euro for three course and wine-plain cooking) together some nights with one or two other people joining in.

Irv and I walk together sometimes, talking, laughing and singing. At other times he goes off like a little West Wales whippet with his walking poles clacking like a metronome. At times like this we are alone with our own thoughts. He´s teaching me a lot about birds and I can recognise a corn bunting from a yellow hammer amd a crested finch from a Spanish sparrow. My favourites are still the storks who have beautiful rituals (like stretching their necks over their backs then clacking their great beaks) when their mate returns to the nest.

This particular bird has changed his plummage as the weather has improved. The Goretex has been shed and he now wears khaki shorts (a la Lofty), T-shirt and straw hat bought locally. My waist is shrinking (it looks as if my head is pin sized in this shot but it is only perspective I can assure you). Now the weather has got better the whole think has become a bit more like the film "The Way" with pilgrims meeting old friends outside sunny wayside bars. The first few weeks were more like Napoleon´s retreat from Moscow. We have been told that two walkers died on the way over to Roncesvalles so the early bit of the walk is still dangerous.

The countryside is spectacular but there are a heck of a lot of big wind farms here; enough to scare Don Quixote perhaps. The majority of the walking has been "up country" where we´ve stayed in villages (pop 250 or thereabouts) where a lot of houses are literally falling down. Once in a while we´ve hit a bigger town and seen some great architecture like this perfect Romanesque church in Fromista.

A tough 180km but now we have a day in Leon to rest our legs before the next push towards Santiago.

"I can see clearly now.." Belorado to Burgos

What a difference a bit of sun makes. A few days ago we toiled into Santa Domingo and all we could see ahead were ponchoed pilgrims hunched under heavy packs. In the sun the greetings of "Buon camino" as we pass people now seem more heartfelt and enthuisiastic. We´ve done 75 km in three days and we´re starting to enjoy the walking now that we´re healed up.

We did have a night in an old monastery in St Juan de Ortega where we shared a cold dorm with about 80 snoring pilgrims. Plenty of showers but no hot water and they still charged 5 Eu per night. The place closed at 10.00pm so we only saw the first half of the European Cup Final. The only bar in the village closed at 10.00 anyway (you could choose a variant on black pudding or an omlette for the meal-Jill would have loved it-divorce would have been imminent. Irv was so unhappy that he wanted out so much that I found him loading his rucksack by the light of his headlamp in the pre-dawn which is very unlike him. He kept muttering "medieval, bluddy medieval mun".

The walk to Burgos was great. We passed Neolithic stones, stopped to look at storks nesting and stopped to admire the landscape. Just lovely.

The good weather makes it easier to stop and talk to other pilgrims and we´ve met some great people. A smashing Kiwi couple who I just talked rugby with (not feet related!). A young guy from Cork who had to do 32km a day to keep on schedule. He only had a 5kg pack but at the expense of not having packed what some people consider as basics (sleeping bag and underpants). We´ve belted out "Sospan Fach" on the request from a couple of Ozzies and demanded "Waltzing Matila" in return. We¨ve even been wished "Iechyd da" by a Swedish lady (who had more than a hint of the Bridgette Neilson about her-she was about 2 foot taller than me) who had lived and worked in Cardiff and had taken Welsh lessons. Irv on left.

We reached Burgos and found a pension for 18 eu each per night which has two double beds, a bath and water that will take the skin off your hand. Never mind the Cathedral, the numerous bronzes and palaces (one where Isabella of Spain met Chris Colombus before his second trip). Just give me a soft bed and a hot bath.

"Waiting for the sun" Logrono to Belorado

The very basic things in life become very important on this sort of excursion. What´s the weather going to do, where am I going to sleep, how hilly is the next bit etc. But always the conversation turns to feet. We had breakfast with a nice American lady and she had a Masters in Linguistics, as has Irv and in which I have an interest. After a few minutes on the topic of lingusitics we´d reverted to the feet conversation. The good news is that Irv´s feet are good and we´ve picked the pace up. Irv is now the blister guru of the Camino and his purchases of medical aids for his feet are reflating the Spanish economy. This is a shot of Irv´s feet in recovery mode so you can imagine them at their worst..

The weather is still a bit off and with not wanting to overdo the walking and put Irv´s feet back into A&E status we´ve done a few shortish walks (I´ve also started to get a pain in my right thight so I´ve been keen to give it a bit of recovery time). Logrono to Ventosa (about 13km) Ventosa to Azofra (about 17km) and Azofra to St Domingo (about 17km). We´re passing through the Rioja region so walking through vineyards with hills in distance and very pretty it is too (but cold).

We had a bit of sun in Azofra and sat in the courtyard of the hostel (2 bed-room a bit on the young offenders institution model but only 7 euros each) eating sarnies of sardine right out of the tin, cheese, rioja and oranges then sat with feet in the freezing cold little pool-fountain. Just like putting the feet in the pools at Pont Neath Vaughan. Five minutes and all feeling is gone. Lovely.

Last night we stayed at Santa Domingo. It was so cold we payed 5 Euro to have a look around the cathedral just to stay out of the wind. They´ve got a live rooster and chicken in a sort of gilded cage in the Cathedral in remembrance of a miracle that happened there. Seemed a bit odd for a lad brought up in the Methodist faith but there you go.

Today has been the best day. We have fallen behind but as the foot situation looked better we decided on an early start and by 11.30am (including two stops) we´d done 23km and were all set up in a double room in a posh hostel in Belorado. It even has a pool. I asked the lady if it was "caliente" and she said it was "muy caliente" but her smile told me it was anything but. We walked in sunshine and to mark the change in weather we swapped our normal elevenses of coffee, a Spanish brandy and a codeine tablet for a beer and a tablet. It makes us go like the roadrunner for about 2 hours. We hope to do the same sort of distances for the next two days then have a break in Burgos.