Distance: 39.3km (73.7km / 802.4km).
Weather: Foggy, sunny, rainy.
Yesterday evening included a little bit too much alcohol, leaving me waking up this morning with the feeling of having forgotten something. A classic display of alcohol induced anxiety. I could not remember having paid for the dinner I had. For all I knew, I should have paid, there was just no recollection of having done it. This makes me unable to leave without sorting it out, the conscience in me requires me to. So after, the rather meagre breakfast at the place, I walk up to Hostal Rural Agoga in the dark. In the hope of both clearing my conscience and getting some more breakfast.
The surreal cliffs of Las Medulas in the morning.
All I succeed in doing is waking up the dog, setting off loud barks in the dark. The front of the building is all dark, there is light visible from the windows on the side, but I cannot see anyone inside. Do not want to confront the dog for getting to the private entrance, and I rather not disturb the people living here either. I go in search for another place for breakfast instead, but it is all quiet and closed in the village. The only awake beings are the dogs, they make loud noises as usual. I return to my accommodation, eat some more tiny breakfast together with Fernando and Andres, who now have woken up. Then I take one last chance at Agoga. This time I am successful, the host is just about to open. He can happily tell me that I did pay for what I ate and drank there last evening. Stupid waste of time.
Mist on the Camino Real out of Las Medulas.
Las Medulas has forgotten the blue sky from yesterday afternoon and evening already, outside the fog has returned again. It is another mystical walk in the morning, on the old king's highway (Camino Real). With the shapes of the vegetation as vague contours in the fog. Trees and bushes, even the hills above, takes on other forms. In a field, I can see two of the shapes moving, it is two small roe deers. They are barely visible, but they are still aware of me, they could probably hear me coming. Sounds travels good in fog.
Deers in the mist.
There is no short distance that I have in front of me today, but that poses no obstacle to my curiosity. Not far away from Las Medulas, I come to a junction with one way leading up to the Mirador De Pedrices. There is little hope in getting any views from the mirador now, but it is only 500m away. And I have had glory moments before, what I still call a Monte d'Oro moment, so I set forth further up into the clouds. And is immensely rewarded.
A moment of joy at the Mirador De Pedrices, when I emerge out of the fog to this wonderful view.
A kind of sunrise.
Further up the clouds are cracking up, I can see light radiating from behind them. It appears that I have emerged on top of the clouds that lies like a blanket below, shrouding both Las Medulas and the valley on the other side. There are still clouds on the sky above me, but between the upper and lower clouds, sunrays are illuminating the thin line of the horizon. It might not really count as a sunrise, but it sure feels like it. It is magical, I know that I will waste a lot of time here. The cliffs of Las Medulas are only visible as tiny peaks barely jutting up from the low clouds. Walking high up above the clouds are so exhilarating. Problem is, I can barely force myself away from the views. Especially when the clouds are dispersing more and more.
Las Medulas from the Mirador De Pedrices.
Eventually breaking free, I start the descent towards Puente de Domingo Flórez. It is like walking above of a sea of clouds, and I am descending down into the depths of the clouds. At first, I believe to be a lake or a river at the bottom of the valley, which I cannot see, but I later learn that there is not. The walk down is wonderful, with an almost clear sky above me and the sea of clouds below very slowly decreasing. However, the clouds has not disappeared when I reach the bottom, so during the last walk into Puente de Domingo Flórez I am still covered by them. On the last approach to the town, the houses appear below me out of the fog. Wonderful.
Sea of clouds.
Descent to Puente de Domingo Flórez.
Puente de Domingo Flórez is a nice little town with the kind of worn buildings I saw yesterday too when walking through the tiny hamlets and villages on the way. Fernando and Andres had walked past me either while I was up clearing my conscience or up at the Pedrices viewpoint, but I meet them again at a local café. They persuades me to taste a local cake that I have forgotten the name of, which tastes wonderful. I even eat a second one. The route through the town takes a strange route, by crossing first over the Cabreira on one bridge before returning to the town on another one. I guess it is for the scenic part of the town on the south side of the river.
Puente de Domingo Flórez.
The Invierno then slowly climbs up into the hills on the other side. At this time, the clouds are almost all of them gone. I notice a new type of Camino milestone, which is all in black with a yellow arrow and scallop on it. Cresting the top gives a view of the next section of the Camino, going above the Encoro de Pumares. This is another scenic walk on the Invierno, on a lovely trail next to and just above the lake. I walk past a lost hamlet or village, Nogueiras. Ghost towns or villages are always fascinating. I always wonder how life must have been in one before the place died.
A new type of Camino milestone.
There are some industrial areas down in the valley after Encoro de Pumares, when the path has made a slow ascent, but they disturb me little. I overtake Fernando and Andres once again, together with another pilgrim, but Andres looks tired and they have decided to only walk to Sobradelo and find a place to stay there. This makes me anxious on how they will cope for the rest of the walk, I do hope they will make it.
Encoro de Pumares.
Camino de Invierno from Pumares towards Sobradelo (looking back).
Sobradelo is separated by the Río Sil, remember that this river also run next to Ponferrada, and has a pretty stone bridge crossing over the river. At the centre of the small town there are two cafés, I just go in for the first one I come to for lunch. I take my time going down to look at the bridge too.
A welcome sign in the ghost hamlet of Nogueiras.
The clouds are returning on the short walk over the hill towards Éntoma, where there is an old bridge followed by some statues of pilgrims. Here I loose my concentration for a while and pay no heed to where I go and walks straight out of the village, where I meet the other pilgrim walking with Fernando and Andres earlier coming in the opposite direction. Believing to be on the right way, I point in the direction of O Barco de Valdeorras and we both find ourselves walking next to a road. This is a wrong turn, but it takes a too long time for me to realize my error. The other pilgrim decides to continue on the road, while I turn back to find the proper way. Which was easily located at a junction in Éntoma, if you just pay enough attention. The waymarking on the Camino Real de Invierno has been surprisingly good so far. It was also a good choice going back, the proper Camino goes higher up on a far more pleasant path than down on the road.
Sobradelo with its 'New Bridge' (16th-17th century).
O Barco de Valdeorras is a good place to walk to at the end of a day on the Camino, having all the services a pilgrim needs, but I am not stopping there. My plan for tomorrow would make it wiser to go further today. I only make a short stop for my cafe con leche. Otherwise, the people living here seems to gather around the small park next to the river that the Camino passes by.
Ultreia et suseia. From a miniature pilgrim 'guide' read by the pilgrim statues in Éntoma.
From O Barco de Valdeorras it is about 7km to my planned destination for the day, Vilamartin de Valdeorras. With all the extra walk I have put in today, both wanted and unwanted, I feel tired now. Over me, the blue sky has turned dark grey, I can tell that rain is imminent. It arrives a few kilometres before I get to Vilamartin de Valdeorras. Not stopping me for having to cross over the suspension bridge just before the village, the Camino does not cross it however.
The Camino to O Barco de Valdeorras from Éntoma.
According to my little leaflet of a guidebook, the albergue in Vilamartin de Valdeorras is supposed to be located at the gas station and that they have the key to it. At Vilamartin de Valdeorras, I find a sign telling me that the gas station is 1km outside the village. I do not know if there are any places to eat there, which means that I might end up having to walk that kilometer back again, and so return again after eating. Feeling too tired to take the chance, I instead decide to go to the hostal in the village. Which is closed, so I have to go to the albergue anyway. The gas station lies next to the busy highway, no walking on that road, so I have to find another way. The people at the gas station tells me that there is no albergue there, that it is back in Vilamartin de Valdeorras, next to the swimming pool. They make a quick map to me and I stumble back to the village. At the moment, I am not in a very good mood.
In O Barco de Valdeorras.
I find the albergue, which is locked as expected. When dialling the phonenumbers I have, there are no answers. Feeling tired, I give up and decides to walk up into the village to find a bar. There, I will have a beer and arrange for a taxi to drive me to O Barco. It is not that far on the highway, so it should not be so expensive. On the way up, a car runs past me, winds down the window and a woman ask me where I am heading. I answer that I went looking for the albergue. She tells me that she has the key to it and will fetch it while I go back. True to her word, she turns up very quickly afterward and locks me in. Soon there are two people here taking care of me. Although not speaking very good English, they are very friendly and hospitable. The albergue is almost new, and if I understood it correctly, not actually open for the public yet either, but they let me stay there. It is clean, I get a stamp and my own key to lock the doors. It felt so good too get in and relax a little.
A sad angel at a cemetery after O Barco de Valdeorras.
After I have had my shower and changed into dry clothes, she returns and drives me to a restaurant in Vilamartin. Such hospitality is greatly appreciated after the ending of this walk. Needless to say, the dinner and cold beers taste really good, I think most food would taste really good after this long day. I stay at the restaurant, El Castillo, for a while, just needing to rest. Then I buy with me some snacks and walk back in the rain. It is not far.
At the suspension bridge just outside Vilamartin de Valdeorras.
Back at the albergue, I lock myself in, lock the door behind me and sit down and relax while I listen to the rain on the windows. That is such a good feeling too, sitting good and dry inside when it is raining after a long day outside. Despite the end of the walk, this was a wonderful day. Winter has been great so far.
A sculpture with a red hat in Vilamartin de Valdeorras.
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