Camino Primitivo // day 14 // Melide - Arca O Pino

Camino Primitivo / Camino Finisterre day 14.
Distance: 32.0km (338.0km), time spent: 9:27 (107:14).
Weather: Nice.

We do not have to go far to feel the difference from the calm walk on the Camino Primitivo. Out of Melide there are a solid flow of pilgrims, we see more people in an hour than we did during a whole day on the primitive way. This day also means something more to me, it is with a special feeling that I return to the route that was the starting point of my adventures on long distance trails. I am also excited about how much of the route I will remember from last time.

Sunrise in Melide, the first day in a long time where there was not clouds and fog in the morning.

The French way greets me welcome with a clear blue sky in the morning, in opposition to the grey one that I have grown accustomed to. Douglas and I are lining up into the queue of pilgrims towards the grave of St. James. It is not so bad, even though it is a transition. I immediately recognizes the first church we come to, the bridge over a small creek consisting of large round boulders; and the small shed with fruits and water where you pay in a trust box. El Pequeño Oasis, which now has its own sello as well. There is a queue to stamp.

In the morning in Melide. The last part of the route before it joins the Camino Frances.

Ribadiso do Baixo, the last time I was here it was raining. A lovely albergue nicely situated next to the river Iso.

I remember the walk on this part as pleasant, and it still is. Even though it is more noise now, that may be the biggest upheaval from the primitivo, it is no longer quiet. Rafael and Lucas overtakes us in Castañeda, like a speed train on the Camino, and hurry on further (they had walked from As Seixas early this morning). I have to take a break in Ribadiso do Baixo, for memories sake. This is really one of the most pleasant albergues on the last stretch of the Camino. The place is beautiful situated next to the river Iso.

A queue of pilgrims outside the albergue in Arzua, the clock has just passed twelve and people are finished walking. We had some trouble understanding this.

Arzua is also a small town that my dad and I just passed through, now it is in the middle of the day (around twelve o'clock) when Douglas and I arrives at the town and already there are a large queue outside the municipal albergue here. Rafael and Lucas are sitting in the line waiting, that is to say, Lucas is sitting there for them. Rafael is somewhere having a beer, I would guess. I have some difficulty to understand the need to rush ahead to the next place to arrive this early and then just sit outside the albergue for a long time waiting. Rest of the day, I assume, goes by with drinking beer. A private albergue opens up behind where Douglas and I stands observing the pilgrims. That someone does not takes his backpack, goes in and pays the few additional euros so as to earlier could finish with the necessary routines I could not understand either.

The Camino after Arzua, a walk between cornfields.

We continue walking; the current of pilgrims has abated considerably after Arzua. Large parts of the route is as I recall it, still pleasant. A new bar has emerged, and a huge wound is crossing over the route where a new highway are under construction. Next to a house there is a long line of paper notes with sayings and words of wisdom hanging, 'Not all those who wander are lost' (Tolkien) amongst others. At the entrance to Calle there is written 'No hell below us, above us only sky' on a trash can, I can recall reading the same four years ago. I stop for lunch at the nice bar here, as I did last time, and have a beer with the proper name of Peregrina.

Peregrina beer in the pleasant bar in Calle.

The temperature rises throughout the day. Moreover, the number of pilgrims has risen as well. At Santa Irene, which I was thinking of going to for a while, the albergue is looking refurbished since last time and there is a new bar next to it. It looks more tempting to stay here now than it did that time.

A rose in a halo. Calle.

I continue further on the two and a half kilometres to Arca O Pino, or O Pedrouzo (here the different guidebooks and signposts varies a lot regarding the real name of the place). Just outside of the main street, I find my albergue for the night, Otero, which looks ok enough, but nothing more. I have washed my clothes and had a beer before Douglas arrives later. While he is doing the usual routines, I go for a walk in the town; I visit the church again, as I did on the previous stay, which contrary to expectations is open this time.

Green corn fields.

Where better for pilgrims to sleep than right on the Camino, at least is in the shade.

We met no one else we know here. Most of the others did not plan to go any further than Salceda, except Pol, but we could not see him anywhere here. It was a small transition encountering significantly more pilgrims than usual, but overall it was little that dampened the spirits. However, I do wonder how I would enjoy it in this throng for more than the few days I will spend in it now. Being back on the Camino Frances was also a very good feeling. Tomorrow Santiago de Compostela awaits me (again).

Inside the church in Arco O Pino, notice the scallop behind the altar.

<- Arca O PinoSantiago de Compostela ->

Camino Primitivo // day 13 // San Roman da Retorta - Melide

Camino Primitivo / Camino Finisterre day 13.
Distance: 28.2km (306.0km), time spent: 8:47 (97:47).
Weather: Cloudy and light rain, then overcast, before lightly cloudy in the evening.

It is with a strange feeling I wake up in the morning, today is the last day on a 'pure' Camino Primitivo. In Melide, the primitive route follows the same way as the Camino Frances to Santiago de Compostela. From that point on, I can expect meeting considerable more pilgrims. In San Roman da Retorta, it is in that respect significantly quieter in the morning. The breakfast stands ready when we wakes up, and is by no means sparse; a big thumbs up for that.

Dark clouds in the morning on the Roman way from San Roman da Retorta.

Rain outside; it is dripping from the trees. From the albergue, the Camino goes on what was once upon a time a Roman way, Via Romana. There is little reminding of the Romans along the way, but that will have to do. The world is looking tired in the morning. At a junction Douglas and I gets confused as to which way is the correct, even though there is a sign marked with Via Romana on, it points to a track that returns in the same direction as we came from. We do what you never should do, but are always done, in a horror more and split up. The direction the sign is pointing is of course the correct way. I make an arrow on the ground to help eventual pilgrims following in our footsteps.

Yellow arrow points the way towards flowers.

This might be the darkest walk so far on my Camino. Where it before were just clouds and fog, these are now dark in addition. My mood is however not dark. I walk, together with Douglas, past villages where we wonder what the villagers makes their living of, past landscapes in mist, past my own high expectations. We take a break in Ferreira, while we for a short while can observe sunlight.

San Jorge de Aguasantas.

A horreo and old buildings at the entrance to As Seixas.

As Seixas, I like that name. I originally wanted to go here, in the same way as Cadavo Baleira. This place is a lot nicer, as it also is smaller. Against a grey background, I can see the cliffs rise up from the crags that I have been looking forward to see today. The modern albergue here looks nice; already one pilgrim is sitting outside waiting for it to open. Douglas and I stop for a break at the bar in the village, Casa Goriños, which is a nice place. Pablo, Rocio, Pol and Caty (who I first met yesterday in O Candido) also stops for a break here. The walk here has been good, but we are moving on.

Scenery above As Seixas.

When I feel the raindrops on my head as Douglas and I are climbing up from As Seixas, I notice that I again feel somewhat disappointed. I got to experience the Hospitales route in great weather, both the pass over El Acebo, Hospital de Montouto and now the landscape above As Seixas that I have been looking forward to have been in fog and grey weather. It is however only a short disappointment, which I quickly shakes of me. The rain only lasts for a short while and the landscape is not disappearing into the weather either.

Waymarker extended with the colours of the rainbow at Hospital das Seixas.

Above As Seixas the route climbs up into the crags, where rock and cliff formations pushes themselves up from the ground, to me it is beautiful. Unfortunately, I know that this part of the route does not last too long, so we walk slowly to enjoy it while we can. The path continues further up past Hospital das Seixas, barely a hamlet in time, and up towards the highest point of today, just below Monte do Hospital. A signpost is moving slowly in the wind, Concello de Toques; it is rusty and contains several bullet holes. On each side of the pass there are roads leading further up into the barren landscape. Our way goes downwards again.

The descent from Monte do Hospital, Melide in the horizon.

Herding and tired buildings in Vilouriz.

We come out of the woods to more desolate looking views; we can see Melide in the horizon. From now on, the route goes more on tarmac, which is nice the first part down from the hills, but becomes more boring when it reaches the level ground before Melide. You walk through the usual small villages. Pause at the bar at Villamor, but the locals at the place are making so much noise that we are not staying very long.

Another example of an abandoned house left to decay, still for sale though. In Villamor.

In Melide, we have places in Albergue Alfonso II; it is a nice and clean albergue. And we have now arrived in the flow of pilgrims on the Camino Frances; in the town you cannot rest your eyes somewhere without seeing a pilgrim. You pass by groups of pilgrims telling the same stories, stories about walking in the dark, about the yellow arrows and how the Camino provides. When I walked the French way for (almost) four years ago, my dad and I walked through Melide. I get to see more of the town now.

Dinner in Melide together with pilgrim, Rocio, Pablo, Pol, Caty and Maribel.

I eat dinner together with Pablo, Rocio, Pol, Caty, Maribel and another pilgrim in one of the famous pulperias (restaurant that specializes on pulpo, octopus) in the town, Garnacha. I am allergic to octopus, but they have other delicacies on the menu. It was a nice day today, I am anxious of how the life on the Camino will be from now on, when I become engulfed in the vortex of the French way.

<- San Roman da RetortaArca O Pino ->

Camino Primitivo // day 12 // Castroverde - San Roman da Retorta

Camino Primitivo / Camino Finisterre day 12.
Distance: 40.6km (277.8km), time spent: 12:36 (89:00).
Weather: Fog, then it became sunny, blue sky and very hot.

After my camera lens broke and I chose to stop in Tineo, I have been one day behind my plan. Since I want to go the Camino Finisterre and to Muxia afterwards, I have to walk at least one very long day to get back to my original time schedule. The choice stood between walking 40 kilometres on the last day to Santiago de Compostela, walking 45 kilometres tomorrow or walking 40 kilometres today. I wish to have some time in Santiago when I first has walked there and to walk forty-five kilometres is not tempting.

In the misty morning after Castroverde walking across a field.

I have instead chosen not to stay in Lugo, like most of the others, but rather continuing further to San Roman da Retorta. So when I walk out of Castroverde in the usual morning mist, together with Douglas and Francis, I have forty kilometres ahead of me. Douglas has chosen to accompany me there, something I am happy about. We have booked a place in the private albergue there, O Candido, which was easier said than done. All the phone numbers we found in the guidebooks did not lead anywhere, in the end the hospitalero at the albergue managed to obtain the number.

Cross at Souto de Torres.

That the clouds are lying dense above the ground does not make much of a view, but I am walking with the feeling that it does not matter much to and from. Most of the 22 kilometres to Lugo is a walk that I cannot muster the greatest enthusiasm for. Most of the walk is a nice enough route until Santa María de Gondar, passing by cultural landscape and little villages, but the great experience is absent. Afterwards the experience are being thinned out with several long stretches on boring roads.

Castiñeiro da Corredoira, a big chestnut tree on the detour at Soutomerille.

The most exciting about the walk came however on a detour off the Camino, before Gondar I came to a sign pointing to a gravel road leading into the forest and away from the route. The sign also clearly showed how you could return to the Camino without having to backtrack on the same way. Yellow arrows leads me into the unknown and through pleasant tunnels of trees in the woods. I arrive at some ruins of some old buildings (Casa - Torre de Arriba), a huge chestnut tree (Castiñeiro da Corredoira) and an old and much worn church where the walls inside of it have become green of mold (Igrexa Parroquial de San Salvador de Soutomerille).

Inside Igrexa Parroquial de San Salvador de Soutomerille, the walls are green of mold. I do not think that his church is in much use.

I arrive in Lugo beneath a sky where not a single cloud exists, not a single one, they vanished without a trace. The sight of the old Roman city walls are making me question myself whether it was a good idea to move on, they are looking great. Reunion is otherwise the first word that strikes me; I catch up with Klaus, Douglas and Frank on my way into the city. At the gates of the old town, I happily meets Axel again, who in the end finally took his zero day. Outside the albergue, there are also many familiar faces, Lucy, Madi, Rafael, Lucas and Elke. Joe, Annie and Francisca also appears, they came here yesterday after having walked about fifty kilometres.

Santa Maria Cathedral in Lugo of which the construction began in 1129.

Douglas and I spend about three and a half hours in Lugo, to get to see at least something of the city. We eat a big lunch; whereupon we meet Frank who does not seem quite satisfied that he chose to stay. We visit the cathedral, Santa Maria, and then goes for a walk on top of the city walls. The city walls of Lugo are the largest surviving Roman walls in the world, goes for 2 kilometres around the city, are 8.5 metres high and has 85 round towers. It is almost a sin to continue walking. I do not attempt to get me a new lens for my camera.

Wallwalk on top of Lugo, two kilometres of surviving Roman walls.

After Lugo, everything revolves around the heat. The sun is baking on the sky and I almost yearns (but only almost) back to the more chill walk in the clouds earlier. It is more of a road walk now, but in this matter the blue sky is helping out, the view is better than earlier. Fortunately the route are passing three bars on the way to San Roman da Retorta, I fill up with drinks both in me and in my water bottle in the bar in O Burgo do San Vicente.

Puerta de Santiago with the cathedral in Lugo behind, the Camino leaves the old city of Lugo through this gate.

Roman bridge in the outskirts of Lugo that crosses the river Río Miño.

Despite of the road, it is a relatively easy-going route, something that is probably satisfying for my feet. Still, I am tired and happy to arrive when I come to San Roman da Retorta; the place is not big. There is a small bar here and I look forward to relieve me of my backpack. Instead, I am being pushed onward by a local; the albergue is situated a little bit outside of the hamlet. One kilometre outside actually. Even though it is not that far, I do not know if I am enticed to going back here again to eat.

The church in O Burgo do San Vicente, locating the bar next of it was not difficult.

The joy is however great when the albergue is appearing, it is a quiet place in the forest that I immediately likes. Outside, to my even greater joy is Pol, Pablo and Rocio sitting. When in addition it turns out that the albergue has everything you otherwise need, of food and drink, is it perfect for a tired pilgrim. Douglas arrives a little later than me, quite tired he as well. At dinner, I choose ham with melon as a starter; it is being served as a big plate with ham and a big melon on top it (DIY food). Later, Joe, Francisca and Annie arrives, they chose to go here today as well.

The O Candido albergue in San Roman da Retorta, a quiet place in the middle of the woods.

I have now left someone for good, met again people I did not think I would see again, left some of them again and met new people. Such is the life on the Camino, pilgrims are coming and going.

<- CastroverdeMelide ->

Camino Primitivo // day 11 // Padron - Castroverde

Camino Primitivo / Camino Finisterre day 11.
Distance: 31.3km (237.2km), time spent: 8:56 (76:24).
Weather: Foggy, later sun and blue sky.

At three o'clock in the night, a smartphone alarm goes off in the room I sleep in, but there are no one that makes any move to turn it off, it continues to wail until it stops by itself. Not many hours afterwards, Lucas and Rafael whom I am are sharing the room with, are waking up. Later, I can hear their voices from outside and see small lights moving in the dark. They are really in a stress to get off early.

Yet another misty morning walk.

Weather repeats itself, outside there is a grey layer of lightly wet clouds occupying the air. After an initial walk alongside woods and acres in the fog, the route begins to move into higher grounds. It looks as if the clouds cannot decide whether to lift or becoming denser, with the path up to and from Montouto only offering occasional views through them. The small hamlet itself is another travel through time.

View back from Montouto, the clouds provides small glimpses of the outside world below.

The highlight of the day, both in height and experience, is the small Hospital de Montouto, a pilgrim's hospital from 1360. The mountain behind the hospital is hidden in the fog that winds its way around the old stone buildings and substantiates the mystical aura that surrounds the place. A small chapel is standing nearby, where one of the wooden bars that blocks the entrance to the chapel are torn out; probably by one who did it to take shelter inside of it. Francis is feeling like he almost is back on the Scottish highland. It is a delightful place, and the fog does not make it any less atmospheric being there.

Montouto, an ageing hamlet.

Sadly, someone has defecated next to the backside of the hospital. We are here talking about a building from the 1300s and people does not have any more respect for it than using it as a toilet (there are more than enough space to do your business a little bit off the track). Me, Douglas and Francis are just shaking our heads in disbelief and resignation.

Hospital de Montouto, founded in 1360 and in use as late as in the early 20th century

Down from Montouto the path goes through a more modest forest without any highlights until we get to Casa Meson, a pilgrim friendly bar according to my guidebook. The place serves some huge bocadillos, so huge that Francisca gives me a good slice of hers. Typical for the Camino it is also so that these places becomes large gathering points for pilgrims, so there are many people here and the owner of the place is stressed (I do have sympathies for him). It takes so long to get to order a cup of coffee that I instead put on my backpack and walks down to a bar in Paradavella.

Hospital de Montouto scenery, the ephemeral clouds contributes to the atmosphere at the place.

That bar has won a price for serving the best coffee in Galicia three years in a row apparently, and it is truly a good coffee they serve. It is little on the remaining part of the route that can measure itself with the atmosphere around Montouto, but it is still a nice walk afterwards. The clouds did eventually found it too good to be there and moved on; it becomes hot throughout the day. The route now alternates between walking on paths and alongside the tarmac. A new pinecone animal sees the light of day.

Through the woods before O Couto.

When Douglas and I arrives at Cadavo Baleira and the albergue there, we have passed by several small and pleasant villages, with views over a green world with a blue sky above it. In my original plan, I had thought to stay the night here, but that plan has changed. Both Douglas and I wants to walk on further towards Castroverde. We stop for a lunch at the town and leaves it at that. The town itself is not much to talk about, but the name sounds good. Douglas admits that it probably was his alarm that went off during the night, set for a long time ago and then forgotten.

Douglas waiting for a cup of café con leche in the bar in A Lastra.

It is a nice walk after Cadavo Baleira, even though there is small climb in the heat at the start. The route towards Vilabade goes on a pleasant gravel road through the woods. With as much blue sky and as verdant as it is now, my eyes are being bathed in contrasts. Vilabade is a lovely village, which also looks very tidy and well kept. The church has an impressive entrance. I think that both Douglas and I would have stayed if there were an albergue here.

Descent towards Cadavo Baleira.

Madi and Lucy are sitting outside the albergue in Castroverde. We are excited to hear about how their night had been, they continued further from Padron yesterday to sleep in their hammocks. Apparently, it had been a somewhat wet night, due to the humidity, outside the albergue their equipment lies spread out to dry. They are quite tough, so they cope nicely with it.

Vilabade, the church at the village has an impressive entrance and the small place was tidy and well kept.

Castroverde is pleasant small town. I eat dinner together with Douglas, Isabelle, Olivier, Valery, Marine and Klaus. Plato combinado consisting of a large piece of meat, two slices of bacon, pommes frites and a vegetable pâté, all for the sum of 6 euro. This was also the last dinner together with Olivier, Isabelle, Marine and Valery; tomorrow I have a very long day ahead of me and I will not meet them again.

Dinner in Castroverde together with Olivier, Isabelle, Marine, Valery, Douglas and Klaus (not in the picture).

<- PadronSan Roman da Retorta ->

Camino Primitivo // day 10 // Grandas de Salime - Padron

Camino Primitivo / Camino Finisterre day 10.
Distance: 26.5km (205.9km), time spent: 9:23 (67:30).
Weather: Fog, sunny and evening fog.

In the morning, I am glad that I got the last bed space at the albergue; I slept well in the airy basement under the albergue. Something that cannot be said about those who had to sleep on mattresses in the dining room above, where there were one person that got ill during the night and had thrown up.

A walk beneath low clouds after Cereixeira (in the centre of the picture).

It is a repeating fact that the clouds are lying low in the mornings, but in the latter days, they have also become more and more dense. When I leave Grandas de Salime, there is also a light rain in the air. There is just a small possibility that this weather will lift until I reach the highest point on today's route, El Acebo. Instead, Jeroen and I walk beneath the layer of clouds through woods and over fields. It is a quiet mood in the air, so it is an enjoyable walk, no views.

Chao de San Martín, a prehistoric settlement recently excavated near Castro.

Above Castro, you can see the remains of a historic settlement, Chao de San Martín, only the foundations are left. Before the route disappear into the fog when I begin the ascent towards El Acebo, I have left Jeroen behind. Instead, I met Isabelle and later on Olivier. The ascent on the road seems like an eternity in the clouds. Peñafuente appears out of the fog and disappears just as quick again, the church are being refurbished. Glimpses of landscape and houses can be discerned at intervals.

Wandering through the forest, this church emerged in the middle of the trees.

Up the last ascent to the windmills at the top of the ridge there is a small sign of the weather lifting, I can see more of the valley below me. I catch up with three older ladies that I, probably a little bit wicked, call the snails. They are not moving very fast and carries almost round backpacks on their backs. After having finished with the climb, I come to a line of rocks lying like a border across the path, next to them a stone marks that I have crossed into Galicia. Galicia is known for its unstable weather, so that the view is gone is no surprise to me.

The ascent up towards El Acebo and the windmills at the top of the ridge that disappeared in and out of the clouds.

Shrouded in the drifting clouds, I arrive at the bar in El Acebo; Francis, Robin and Kasper are here. There is a sort of quiet calm in my soul sitting with a cup of café con leche, while the wind and the clouds are breathing in my face and the owner of the bar is playing Bob Dylan (...the answer my friend, comes blowin' in the wind). Sitting outside the bar talking to Robin, I mention to him my encounter with the old Spanish man the other day. Which causes him to break out in an astounded laughter and almost falling over, 'You met him you too??'.

The bar at El Acebo. The tones of Bob Dylan floated on in company with the clouds crossing the ridge.

Apparently, it was not just me he had walked up to and asked about masturbation. We laugh out loud, to the point of crying, while Francis looks sort of baffled. We are not finished explaining it all to Francis, before Kasper comes dashing out of the door. 'You met him you two as well??'. It becomes clear to us that the man had gone and asked all the pilgrims he had met, absolutely fantastic, he probably walked laughing all the way to the bar. We continued walking, laughing all the way into the fog.

Inside the bar at El Acebo.

From El Acebo it looks desolate, the fog will not let go on one of the sides of the ridge and I have to walk out on a detour above the bar. There I can look out over the scenery beneath the clouds and barely glimpse the ridges in the horizon. Madi and Lucy, who I am just started to become aquainted with, are passing me by where I am as usual are moving in slow motion when I am in a landscape I like. My imaginary wasteland ends where the route comes to a paved road.

View beneath a layer of clouds above El Acebo.

The walk after joining the road is less exciting, though the weather is now beginning to clear. I arrive at A Fonsagrada uncertain if I want to stay here or continue on to Padron. The town reminds me a little of Melide, most likely since it is yet another town looking like a long line of buildings on each side of the only street. I meet up again with Madi and Lucy in front of the church and we goes to a bar to eat. Francis is appearing, but he is determined to find a place that serves pulpo (octopus). I decides to go to Padron.

Old buildings of stone in Fonfria.

No food is available at the albergue in Padron however, so I have to buy food for dinner (pasta) and breakfast. Padron is just a short walk outside of A Fonsagrada, and is barely a village by the look of it (it is a nice place though). The albergue seems very nice and to my joy, I meet Elke again there. I did not expect that. She had walked by Pola de Allande, after recommendation from David (the hospitalero at Bodenaya) of medical reasons. There are also many pilgrims at the albergue that I am starting to become familiar with, Joe, Annie, Francisca, Rafael and Michal.

From the tapas-fiesta in A Fonsagrada, going from bar to bar having one tapas at each place, concurso de tapas A Fonsagrada.

In A Fonsagrada there is a tapas-fiesta in the evening, Concurso de tapas A Fonsagrada, and most of the pilgrims at the albergue has planned to walk up to the town. I am a little bit uncertain, I would actually like to just stay at the nice place and rest there. Eventually I join the others and let my dinner become free food for some pilgrims that will arrive later. It was the correct choice and I do not regret making the decision. You get a sheet of paper with a list over around 18 places in the town, you can order one tapas at 1.5 euro at each place and then you get a stamp (they do like stamps here) for each place you eat at. If you eat a tapas at ten places or more, you are allowed to vote for the best tapas, each place has only one tapas on the menu.

They shared the Way, they shared their food, they share their name, the Joanna's of Poland. From the concurso de tapas A Fonsagrada.

The evening becomes memorable, we walks around in the town and tries different tapas, I eat about five pieces (the tapas was not small in size). The tapas are given imaginative names like 'Isto non é o que parece' (This is not what it looks like). Everywhere we meet local people and other pilgrims. On the way back to Padron and the albergue, the fog has enclosed the town again and drifts through the streets as if the clouds itself where on the hunt for tapas.

<- Grandas de SalimeCastroverde ->