Camino Mozarabe: A pilgrimage from the sunny coast to the end of the world

A pilgrimage from the Costa del Sol to the Costa da Morte, from Malaga and Almeria to Santiago de Compostela and Finisterre.
1th of September to 30th of October 2022.
Distance: 1789.8km. 60 days.

I have a sticky sensation on my back, and there is this wet squishy sound as I sit down on a chair. And the first thing that comes to my mind is, this is how it will be the next two months.

Inside the cathedral of Malaga.

When I stand up again, it is the same gurgling sound, the same clammy and sticking sensation of clothes attaching itself to my skin. I find myself in Junta de Los Caminos and it is the first day on the Camino Mozarabe. At the same time as another heatwave has turned up the temperatures in the southern Spain. Perhaps not the best time to embark upon a new journey, a walk that will take me across the Iberian Peninsula, from the coast of the sun to the coast of death.

View from the dry and arid mountains outside Malaga on the first day to Almogia.

Camino Mozarabe is regarded as the longest of the pilgrim paths to Santiago de Compostela. It comes with a choice of three cities to start the pilgrimage from, Almería, Malaga or Jaen. Almería is the farthest away from the tomb of St. James, from there it is about 1390 kilometres one must go if one wish to end the walk in front of the mighty cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. Of these I wanted to experience both the route from Almería and Malaga, so I have decided to walk both of them.

The wonderful Sierra del Torcal.

Of these two, Malaga is the easiest place to start the pilgrimage from, as it has an international airport close by (it will still be easy to get to Almería from Malaga however). Malaga is a pleasant surprise, when I hear the name Costa del Sol mentioned I immediate envision overcrowded beaches and resorts with tourists, but given all the tourists this city still has a very relaxed feeling about it. The hotel I sleep in has air-condition, it sounds like a helicopter, if I turns it off my sweat spores starts to work right away. Sleepless in Malaga.

Antequera, a pleasant surprise of a town.

If you have not got the pilgrim credential before you arrive at Malaga, the church of Santiago is the place to get it (not the cathedral). This is also the starting point of the long pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.

A common sight on the way towards Baena, the Camino Mozarabe passes by large areas of olive groves.

From Malaga the first part of my pilgrimage on the Camino Mozarabe goes to the town of Baena, which is where all the three different routes have joined and continues as one route from. The distance to Baena from Malaga is about 162 kilometres. Here the walk at first goes through a dry and barren mountain scenery before it changes to an undulating landscape dominated by olive groves. On the first day I walk to Almogia, a pleasant village where the houses are white, and the streets are labyrinthine.

The village of Alboloduy, on the Camino Mozarabe from Almería.

The days are long, and they are hot. I must always pay attention to carry with me enough water, as an opposite to the Camino Francés the distances between places to find food and drink are longer here, the same goes for accommodation. Albergues for pilgrims does not exist in all the places one is passing through; one must count on spending nights at more expensive options in between. Other pilgrims there are not many of, I do meet a couple of few others, but our walking patterns differ, and I seldom see them.

Cuevas de Guadix.

Of the five days that I use to walk to Baena, the highlights are the already mentioned barren and dry mountain landscape outside Malaga, the walk over the beautiful Sierra del Torcal and the ensuing discovery of a wonderful town I knew nothing of beforehand, Antequera. I walk with a view of the olive groves in soaring heat, while it is all quiet around me. Between Lucena and Doña Mencia the pilgrim path goes on the derelict railway line of Tren del Aceite, which was used to freight olive, with dry mountains towering above it. In the other end of the scale lies the last part of the walk into Lucena, an otherwise nice city, where you go through an extremely boring industrial area.

The Camino Mozarabe passes through the mountains of Sierra Nevada, but evades its highest peaks, here on the way towards Quentar.

After having taken the bus from Baena to Almería, the pilgrimage continues on what might almost be called a restart. From the city on the southeast coast of Spain there is about 200 kilometres towards Granada and the Alhambra. On its way the pilgrim path meanders around the mountain massif of Sierra Nevada. The pilgrims do not have to master the highest of its summits, but between the village of La Peza and Granada the route still reaches the heights of about 1400m.

View of Alhambra and Granada from Abadía del Sacromonte.

And it is definitely hot and dry, so hot that I for a long time feel that I am watering the otherwise dried out rivers the route makes use of. These sections of the Camino Mozarabe from Almería are easy to follow, but less exciting. I doubt that it was the river beds the pilgrims of old days used when they were making their pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. Where they even dried out during that time? A small highlight in this boring section was when a column of tanks was pounding past me on the first day out of Almería.

Alhambra in the evening.

The pilgrim association for this part of the Camino Mozarabe, Asociación Jacobea de Almería- Granada Camino Mozárabe, has made a smart move when it comes to getting access to the albergues. Instead of having to spend time locating a person that has access to the key, these are instead available through a key-box. To get the key you need to contact and acquire access to the code to the key-box (it will change every time they clean up the albergue).

Fortaleza de la Mota in Alcala la Real.

On the way to Granada, I experience the dry and desert-like landscape between Santa fe de Mondujar og Alhabia, the pleasant villages of Alboloduy and Abla, spends a night in a Hobbit cave in Guadix, get a taste of a tooth inflammation (and an ensuing week of penicillin cure) and unfortunately arrives a moment too late for a bullfight in Jerez de Marquesado. Experiencies, both good and bad. And I have got company in the afternoons and evenings.

In Alcaudete.

When walking into Granada I would recommend not to bypass the walk up to the Abadía del Sacromonte on the way, both for a visit to the abbey and the wonderful view of Granada and Alhambra. When entering a larger city on every Camino, the walk into them tends to be boring and slightly monotonous, going through bland suburbs and industrial areas. The walk into Granada differed mightily in this way, it was really nice. There is a lot to say about Alhambra, but as this article is about the Camino Mozarabe, I am not going to say much it, but I was a little bit overwhelmed (do not miss the opportunity of visiting it of course). Of Granada, best of all I enjoyed being in the Albaicín district, where you can find pleasant restaurants and places, as well as great viewpoint over Alhambra.

The long, dry and winding road to Cordoba.

The Renaissance castle in La Calahorra might have been an omen of what awaits me on the route between Granada and Cordoba. This is a section of about 150km where the olive trees reappear in the landscape again. Not so strange, barely two weeks after I took the bus from the town, I walk back into Baena again.

Cordoba with the old Roman bridge and the Mezquita cathedral.

Here the castles are lined up in a row along the Camino. The first of them is towering above the steep ascent to Moclín, then Alcala la Real follows, before Alcaudete and Espejo. With lesser castles spread out in between them again, like in Baena and Castro del Rio. It is only in Alcala la Real that I get the opportunity to visit the castle, Fortaleza de la Mota, which offers both history and views.

The Mezquita cathedral in Cordoba.

Corona presents me with pleasant narrow streets, the just as overwhelming Mezquita cathedral, and the same amount of tourists as in Granada. When the sun is going down, the old Roman bridge is the place to be.

Walking with Magacela in view.

From Cordoba it is a walk of 250km to where one will enter Merida and keep company with the pilgrims coming up from Sevilla on the Via de la Plata. On the way to Merida, the pilgrim will finally leave Andalucia behind and cross into Extremadura.

Dramatic weather in the horizon from the castle in Medellin.

This part of the Camino Mozarabe features several long distances where there are minimal of facilities in between. Between Villaharta and Alcaracejos there are 35km where there are no places to get food and drink from, or a place to sleep except the starry blanket of the night sky, but some kindhearted farmers has placed a water tap available next to a rest bench underway.

Sunset in Medellin.

The scenery is for the most part dry and arid, but there are also sections with a lot of vegetation, although everything still leaves a dry taste in the mouth. I alternate between walking on paved roads and slightly softer dirt roads, only exceptionally is the route narrow enough to be called a path. In between, there are traces of the forest fires that ravaged Spain earlier this year.

The aquaduct of Merida.

Highlights are the encounter of a decommissioned railway line, the path up to Cerro Muriano from the outskirts of Cordoba, the reddish light over the undulating arable landscape out of Campanario in the morning. And the surprising meeting with another Norwegian on the pilgrimage, a pleasant acquaintance.

Via de la Plata.

Most impressing of it all it is the castles. The castles that I could see at the top of the ridges in the horizon. To have breakfast from the top of the castle in Magacela, after having found where the local baker was hidden. To walk alone at the top of the castle walls above Medellín with a drama unfolding in the sky on all sides. To the east of me a thunderstorm stretched its dark fingers over the landscape, while to the west the sunset burned behind clouds of rain reflected in the Guadiana river.

Cáceres.

Merida was however a minor disappointment. I stumbled into the city on a hurting foot, ended up at an expensive (but very good) hotel and when the level of service in the city is at a low level it does not help much with all the architectural treasures Merida has to offer. Most of all, it must probably be attributed to the fact that one occasionally feels tired and that I was just unlucky with the choice of restaurants. The aqueduct was great to behold.

Puente de Malena.

With the arrival in Merida there is another change. In the form of the more known Via de la Plata that comes winding up from Sevilla and which Camino Mozarabe follows from here on. This entails that the number of pilgrims one will encounter increases significantly, without it being anywhere near overcrowded.

Crossing over the bridge into Salamanca.

I follow the yellow arrows along the Silver Way until Granja de Moruela, and like most of the other pilgrims are doing, I leave the route there to change over to the Camino Sanabrés, although there are those that walks the Via de la Plata in its entirety to where it joins the Camino Francés in Astorga.

Zamora in morning light.

The flat and less exciting landscape that I had expected to encounter, appears first when the historical buildings of Salamanca is left behind me. In return both Zamora and the aforementioned Salamanca are two wonderful cities that make up for the slightly less interesting walk. After forty days on foot, I get the first day that can be called a rainy day, on the walk into Salamanca.

Puente Quintos on the Camino Sanabrés.

Before Salamanca, I let myself to be excited by the route between Proserpina and Alcuéscar, the monumental buildings of historical Cáceres and a reunion with a pilgrim from earlier on the walk, the old city walls of Galisteo, the desolate landscape before the Embalse de Alcántara, the cemetery of art outside Morille and of course the meetings with new pilgrims.

A rainy day on Camino Sanabrés on the way from A Gudiña to Laza.

My way to the Praza do Obradoiro in front of the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela crosses over the mountains of Sanabria. After many hot days in scorching sun there is a weather change on the way. Halfway in October and I am getting closer to Galicia by leaps and bounds, and that is a region of Spain that is not unfamiliar with rain. Long and hot days are replaced with several long and wet days.

In Ourense.

Despite the weather, the days are beautiful. The mountain crossings offer dramatic views in the middle of all the rain, with clouds of fog blowing over the ridges and the route. In addition, the clear remains of the forest fires that ravaged this area provides a stark colourful contrast underneath the grey cover.

Monasterio de Oseira.

I walk through a fairy forest with filtered sunrays between the trees, gaze out from the castle in Puebla de Sanabria, spends the night at the Mosterio de Oseira where I visit the monastery and attends vespers, walks on paths turned into creeks, sees a wall of rain moving over the landscape towards Ponte Ulla from the Miradoiro do Alto do Castro.

A welcome sight in the morning of Santiago de Compostela from the summit of Pico Sacro.

On the 56th day I see for the first time the spires of the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, from the top of Pico Sacro without arousing the attention of Reina Lupa. Of the many entry ways to the tomb of St. James, the Camino Sanabrés is one of the finest. By taking a detour up to Cidade da Cultura de Galicia on the way, you get a great view over the city.

Arrived at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela after 57 days of walking from the Costa del Sol.

The sky was leaking during the last kilometres, but when I arrive at Praza do Obradoiro there is a clear blue sky and sun above me. My mind drifts back to the very first days, now so long ago, sweating through the dry and barren scenery of the southern coast of Spain. After the mandatory moment in front of the gates of the cathedral the sky closes again, and it begins to rain when I go to find my accommodation. In the evening there is a lightshow in the sky and the gargoyles on the cathedral are overflow with water.

A deluge in the evening, here from Praza de Quintana.

I have walked the epilogue to Finisterre or Muxia several times before, but after nearly two months on the way from Costa del Sol in the south it feels correct to finish the walk by the sea again, at Capo de Finisterre and the Costa da Morte.

The cathedral of Santiago de Compostela from Parque Alameda.

And after all the days of thirst at the beginning of the pilgrimage it is strange to walk through a landscape characterized by rain, where peasants are outside trying to redirect water to save the crops.

Pedra Cabalgada, which is located near Logoso on the Camino de Finisterre.

An endless horizon forms the background, both the end of the world and the end of the walk. Together with other pilgrims whose pilgrimage has come to an end, I gaze out over the ocean while the sun is setting. In the air there is that feeling one get when one is at the end of a journey, with all the experiences one has encountered left behind but still fresh in memory.

The end and the ocean, at the Capo de Fisterra.

A journey is over, another begins.

Rallarvegen: A hike on the rails

A walk through railway history in Norway from Haugastøl to Flåm.
12th of August to 14th of August 2022.
Distance: 85.8km. 3 days.

One of the most famous railway lines in Norway is Bergensbanen which is running between Oslo and Bergen, highlighted by its passage over the mountains in the centre of the southern part of the country. The most famous of the stations is Finse, situated at 1222m, and if one does not plan to travel there on foot, on skis (in wintertime) or on a bike, taking the train is the only way to get there. There are no public roads available to get there.

Nygardsvatnet, at the start of Rallarvegen from Haugastøl.

To build Bergensbanen, the workers needed a way to transport the necessary material and supplies, this became what now is known as Rallarvegen, named after the railway construction workers. ‘Rallar’, a Scandinavian term for a navvy (not to be mistaken for navy).

Nygardnøse.

In present day, this old route is now a passageway over the mountains that is very popular by bikers. At Haugastøl you can rent a bike, which you can return at the end of the trip at either Finse, Myrdal or Flåm. Popular places to spend the night on the way are Finse (where both a hotel and a staffed DNT cabin are available), the DNT cabin at Hallingskeid and the hotel at Vatnahalsen, unless a tent is the preferred way.

Nysetlægret.

Though, one can also walk it of course, and that is what I had in mind when I was looking for a short three-day hike in the vein of a long-distance trail. An early morning departure from the central train station in Oslo and some four hours later I found myself at Haugastøl, a deep breath of fresh air greeted me as I stepped out of the train.

Grytåni bridge over the Ustekveikja river.

The twisted suspension bridge before Oksebotn.

From Haugastøl it is about 27km to Finse, from there 19km to Hallingskeid, then 17km to Vatnahalsen. And from Vatnahalsen down to Flåm there is 20km, which also will include walking on paved roads. A total of 83km. I will have to be at Flåm in two days, before my train departs back home, although where I spend the nights between are still unknown.

Oksebotn, an old guard house next to the old railway line, now a café for the bikers and other passers-by during the season.

As Rallarvegen was built for transporting goods and supplies, and is now mainly used by bikers, the path is wide and easy to walk on. From the start it is slowly winding its way up into the mountains, following close to the Bergensbanen railway line. Expect to see the train hurrying by while you walk or bike next to it, which always is an excitement.

Rallarvegen meandering ahead next to where the Bergensbanen railway appears out of a tunnel.

Mountain cabins with Hardangerjøkulen in the background.

The hike starts off gently next to the Nygardsvatnet lake, with the sky in the horizon having a gloomy tint to it in the beginning. Soon passing by Nygard, once a vacated mountain farm and the last settlement of the Hallingdal valley. During the construction of the railway this farm was used as a place where the construction workers or other involved people could get food or accommodation, and use as a resource for knowledge about the mountains.

Hardangerjøkulen seen from across the Finsevatnet.

At the beginning there are several cabins visible from the path, but as the route ventures deeper into the mountains they become more and more scarce. Some of them are old pastures houses, others are cabins that was used as guard houses.

Finse, at 1222m, the highest point of the Bergensbanen railway line.

Many of these old guard houses are interesting places to visit while either hiking or biking on the trail. Some of them even functions as cafés during the season, where one can buy drinks both hot and cold, as well as food like waffles (a Norwegian tour favourite, not to be mistaken with the Belgian kind). The first one these that I arrive at is Oksabotn, where one also can find an old barracks for the construction workers and a house used by the engineers of the railway. Old tools and signboards adorn the wall, which is otherwise worn by the weather. Whilst drinking a hot coffee you can wave to the passengers on the trains passing by.

Hardangerjøkulen as seen when leaving Finse.

Winter can be hard in the mountains and makings its toll on both the people and buildings up here. Close to the trail, I pass by a suspension bridge over the Ustekveikji river. It is all twisted around, as if a giant has played ‘hoppetau’ with it. It might be possible to cross over it, but it looks kind of precarious.

Moon over Rallarvegen from Sandåvatnet.

After several hours of walking through this beautiful mountain scenery, I reach Finse, the final approach going through Finsefetene. These are wetlands created by the sediments from the rivers coming down from the glaciers, where there is a rich birdlife during spring. On the other side of Finsevatnet the majestic glacier of Hardangerjøkulen is rising up and being reflected in the calm lake.

Morning mist over Sandåvatnet on the second day.

Finse is the highest point on the Bergensbanen railway line at 1222m and a nexus for hiking in the summer and skiing in the winter. The place greets me as it always has, by its strange houses making me wonder who lives there for the place or who lives there for the work. The answer is probably both. Of the ice rink used by the famous Norwegian athlete Sonja Henie there are only faint remains left of. I take a longer break at the Finse 1222 hotel, having some beers and get a nice conversation with a father and daughter biking the Rallarvegen. They are living in the very place that I grew up in, Nærsnes.

Fagernut Vaktarbustad, also an old guard house now serving as a café during the season.

About an hour away from Finse I find a suitable place to camp on a promontory in the Sandåvatnet lake. Across the lake, warm lights are emanating from the windows of the old guard house Sandå.

Rallarvegen after Fagernut. The railway line seen to the left is the old Bergensbanen and is not in use today.

Next morning, a light mist is covering the lake, soon leaving a clear blue sky above. Another guard house, Slirå, is passed by after Sandå. This was also a metrological station, abandoned in 1964. The trail undulates its way towards the highest point, at 1343m, a spot where the bikers stop to catch the moment for the digital memories. Big patches of snow are still decorating the mountains. The waters and lakes are beckoning, but they do not offer any high temperatures despite being in the summer.

Inside an old railway tunnel, snow still in place and water dripping from the ceiling.

Fagernut is another old guard house, built in 1905. Outside bikers are basking in the sun, inside there is a small museum dedicated to Rallarvegen and another possibility for something to drink and eat.

On the way down towards Lågheller. The building is another old guardhouse, Grjotrust.

Walking on Rallarvegen next to the Låghellervatnet lake.

In modern times, the railway line does not go next to Rallarvegen after Finse as it did it in the old times, instead it is now going through a tunnel for about 10.3km. The old railway line is still clearly visible from where I walk now. Sometimes it is passing through tunnels, with snow blocking the entrances. At one of those, I venture inside the tunnel, having to climb over the snow to get in. The ground inside is icy and treacherous, and I do keep a little watch on the ceiling in case loose stones will fall down.

Approaching Kleivavatnet, a beautiful view with the top of Klevanosi at the back

At Lågheller the trail will be going next to the railway line again, but before that it descends steeply down from Grjotrust, care is needed when going down here as bikers may pass by at high speeds. Grjotrust is also one of the old guard buildings, now beautifully restored overlooking the Moldådalen valley below. Here the trail goes close to both the railway and Låghellervatnet lake.

Kleivavatnet.

From Hallingskeid, with its self-served DNT cabin, railway station with just a few train departures, old powerplant from the war and numerous cabins and small mountain farms, Rallarvegen is entering a wonderful section of the route. The walk next to Grøndalsvatnet and Kleivavatnet lakes is simply put beautiful, but it is what awaits at the end of the last lake that is the most awe-inspiring.

Kleivabrua bridge with Moldåfossane below.

First it is the impressive engineered Kleivabrua bridge, with the Moldåfossane waterfalls ‘buldrende’ underneath it. Then the steep and narrow Kleivagjelet leading you down towards the Seltuftvatnet lake, another section where care is needed. When the river is finally relaxing again there are several ponds inviting a dip in the water.

Steep descent for bikers on Kleivagjelet.

Walking next to the Seltuftvatnet and Reinungavatnet lakes the railway is going higher up in the mountains above. After a pleasant walk I arrive at Vatnahalsen Hotel. The first hotel was built here in 1896, but unfortunately that old and beautiful building burned down in a fire in 1940. As at Finse I take a longer break, enjoying the nice weather and a couple of beers.

Looking back while walking next to the Reinungavatnet lake.

Myrdal lies at the start of a valley without an exit. Here Bergensbanen is again disappearing into a tunnel on its way to Bergen and where the famous Flåmsbanen railway begins its popular journey down towards Flåm. I find a nice spot for my tent just down from the station with its old construction worker buildings.

Looking down at Flåmsdalen, with the tracks of the Flåmsbanen railway to the right.

Myrdal.

A chilly morning greets me on the third and final day, but it soon changes to a beautiful and warm day. From Myrdal and Vatnahalsen, the bikers and hikers will have to get down to the valley below if they are to reach the end of the journey at Flåm. Flåmsdalen lies 350m below and the path follows the 4 km long gravel road known as Myrdalssvingene, consisting of nothing less than 17 curves on its way down. If going down in curves does not attract you, one has the option of taking the Flåm Zipline, it goes in a straight but steep line down instead.

The waterfalls of the Myrdøla.

Nestled between the steep mountains, the Flåmsdalen valley is the home of several old mountain farms, the Flåmselvi river and at times the sound of the historical Flåmsbanen train passing by. There is little of traffic in the valley, but expect bikers to come hurrying by in the season.

Kårdal, an old farm at the end of the Flåmsdalen valley.

Kårdalsfossen waterfall.

Instead of following the gravel road, I opt for trying to follow where the old Rallarvegen was going. This leads me past the waterfall and old mountain farm of the same name, Kårdal. The path is faint, overgrown and uneven, sometimes hard to follow. Tall grass makes my legs wet, but the walk is beautiful. Even more when walking through a grove of birch when the sun reaches the valley floor. On the other side of the river, the sounds of the bikers are as prominent as the silence when they are not there.

The old Rallarvegen.

The trail now follows the road all the way down to Flåm. Walking down I am surrounded by the mountain sides, verdant at the bottom, granite grey at the top. Here and there old farms and mountain homesteads visible, as well as newer additions. At Tveiti the river is pummelling down a constructed hole in the mountain, angrily emerging below again, allowing both the railway and road to continue unhindered further. In the west side of the valley, the Rjoandefossen waterfall is making its free fall down the mountain side, creating rainbows where the water meets the sunlight.

Berekvam, the station below is where the trains going up and down can pass each other on the way.

Flåmsbanen is never far away on the walk down. The only section of the railway where there are double tracks are at Berekvam station, halfway down and where the trains going up and down are able to pass by each other.

Looking back at Flåmsdalsvegen.

It is hot when I arrive at Flåm, next to the old and fashionable Fretheim Hotel built in the late 18th century. Although I have not been alone on my hike from Haugastøl, it is nothing compared to the hustle and bustle that awaits me here. Flåm is a popular tourist destination. I have some time available before my train departs, so among the throng of people I enjoy a dinner and a couple of well-earned beers at Flåmbryggja while the sun is warming.

Rjoandefossen.

What better way to end my hike by taking the very same trains that Rallarvegen was built for. Taking the Flåmsbanen back up towards Myrdal is an enjoyable encore, looking back at where I walked down earlier, as well as seeing parts I did not see from my perspective on foot. The same goes for the journey back to Oslo on Bergensbanen, with familiar scenes from the last days keeping my memories fresh.

Detail from Flåm church.

Thoroughly satisfied with my hike of Rallarvegen, and so lucky with the weather. In terms of hiking through untouched wilderness, this might not be the hike for you, but it more than makes up for it with the historical buildings that one will be seeing along the way. It is a part of Norwegian railway history and while walking past the old buildings from the time of construction one cannot help but wonder how life must have been here during those times. And although adorned by the infrastructure of man, the scenery it still beautiful.

Huldra at Kjosfossen.