Almost Done!

When we awoke just outside Sarria, we realized our trip was almost over. We went to breakfast to figure out our route for the day, since our search for a hotel took us out of our way. At the table next to us, we met a gentleman from Barcelona who was also biking to Santiago, but while we hoped to finish in two more days, he would be arriving that evening. He would be biking 150 kilometers to achieve that goal. He told us we could follow an alternate route so we would not have to double back to Sarria and avoid some climbs. We looked at our maps and decided to follow his advice. We should have followed him. We turned onto what we thought was the suggested turnoff. We encountered a climb but felt assured it wouldn't be a long one. It would be the last thing we would be sure of for most of the morning. As we continued to climb and then eventually push our way, we realized we were going over a mountain. How big we did not know. We were too far committed to turn around so we kept on going up. The good news was that there was absolutely no traffic and the scenery was just beautiful. Along the way, Paul and I had a lively discussion about whether the Spanish gentleman decided to pull one over on two Americans or whether we took a wrong turn. Wanting to believe the best, we chose that we just turned onto an unmarked road. At one point into our several hour sojourn up the mountain, we were able to ride. It was a good thing because as we were passing a field of sheep, we encountered a large pack of very protective barking and growling sheep dogs in a variety of sizes and degrees of ferocity. It was the little ones trying to nip at my feet that made me the most nervous. We pedaled faster trying to outrun them while we heard a male voice shouting from behind a brick wall. We weren't doing so good at getting away when suddenly out of the field came our rescuer in the form of a petite wizened old woman brandishing a long staff. She began waving the stick furiously and yelling loudly at the dogs. The dogs quickly backed down. Paul and I got out there fast but later we wished we had gotten a picture of the old woman. She looked like something out of National Geographic. She had no teeth, she was wearing her
apron over her work clothes and her hair under a scarf. I was amazed by how fast she ran out of the field to call the dogs off because she was so tiny and looked emaciated. On our way again, we went back to climbing. Eventually, we reached the summit. We knew this because it's where the communication tower stood and all the trees were gone. All told, I think we climbed for about ten kilometers over several hours. And we still weren't sure where we were since it was clear we were on an unmarked road. Once at the summit, we started heading down. We thought we could see our destination off in the distance. St every fork in the road we headed towards what we thought was our goal. After descending somewhat blindly, what should we see but two peregrinos walking toward us and our shining beacon, the yellow arrow on the side of a building which also had a Grateful Dead Graffiti on it. Boy, were we relieved. We followed the camino down and after having spent a rather quiet morning disturbed only by the howling dogs, it was a little disconcerting all of a sudden to be caught up in a traffic jam of walking pilgrims, bikers and especially cows! At one point, we passed a group of pilgrims, but were caught with about a dozen other bike riders behind a herd of cattle being driven down the road by their mistress, who just kind of shrugged her shoulders as if to say, who knows when you'll get to pass. One of the bike groups was a little more aggressive and managed to spook the cows into letting us pass. We eventually arrived at our pre-destined lunch spot where we took a long-anticipated break. We sat and ordered lunch and then flew into panic mode...Paul could not find his BlackBerry. Now, this is a big deal. Aside from being our lifeline back home, it was also allowing us to communicate within Spain. We frantically called the hotel we left hours before only to be told by the hardest working man in Spain that we didn't leave it there. We immediately set to pulling everything out of our panniers to see if it got mixed in with our clothes. We still didn't find it. After resigning ourselves to its loss, we checked Paul's bike trunk bag one more time and low and behold, we found it hiding in a pocket where we had been certain it could not have been. Paul says we had a hard climb out of our stop, Portomarin, but to be honest, all the climbs are beginning to blur. My recollection is that the rest of the day was uneventful as we pedalled to our evening destination, Palas de Rei. After our debacle of the previous day, we had called ahead to make a reservation for the night. Only when we arrived at our hotel, they had no reservation and no room. I was very upset. I showed them Paul's phone and the log which proved I had called them the day before. When the man looked at the number, he indicated although I had called a hotel with their name, it was not their number. I called the number only to be told the hotel we wanted was a few blocks away. Problem solved and we were done for the night,

The Big Climb!

Paul and I awoke with great anticipation for the big climb up to O Cebriero. It's a straight climb of about 10 kilometers. On our last trip, I remember it being a brutal day of pushing my bike uphill for four or five hours. It was very cool and the mountain was covered in mist. Paul waited for quite a while at the top while I slowly made my way up the mountain. On this trip, either I was in better shape (again, I like to think the ten extra pounds I am carrying are all muscle) or the angels and my dad were pushing me up the mountain. The day was not nearly as hard as I expected and I arrived at the top about 45 minutes after Paul. I only had to push my bike twice and for only short periods. I was astounded as was Paul. Perhaps I had trained better than I thought. We took in the sights at the top and celebrated with those we met as we climbed up together. It is something joyous to celebrate a shared effort with complete strangers who become instant friends as you climb together. What Paul and I had forgotten is that the arrival at O Cebriero is not the end. It marks the beginning of Galicia, which is a region of lots of ups and downs. The area is very hilly so there is no real respite from a hard day's ride. Following another set of climbs, we finally began our descent into Galicia. Paul took the downhill carefully as he was nervous about the performance of his bike. The back wheel was rattling something awful and he had to loosen his brakes to make the climb. Our goal for the night was Samos, a small town with an impressive monastery and a 900 year old church that is quite a sight to see. It's a good thing we saw it on our last trip because there was not a room to be found in Samos. After our long day of climbing, we were forced to continue onto the next town. We felt reasonably assured we would find something there since it was a larger city. We couldn't have been more wrong. Like Mary and Joseph, we went on a hunt for a room, only to be told time and again, there was no room. We were very nervous at this point. It was getting late and we were tired. After getting a list of numbers to call, we finally found a place 5 kilometers out the city. With trepidation, we had no choice but bike on. As we pedaled on, first downhill and then up, we started wondering whether five really meant ten kilometers and if we were ever going to arrive. We did and quickly settled in for the night. Our clerk who checked us in, became our candidate for the hardest working man in Spain. After we cleaned up, we headed down to the bar for a drink. It turns out he was also on bartending duty. As the restaurant filled up with the dinner crowd, it became clear that he was also the waiter. In between orders at the bar and in the dining room, he also answered the phone and continued to check in arriving guests. When he took our dinner order, I jokingly asked if he was also cooking. With a bemused smile, he said sometimes. When we went down to breakfast the next morning, there he was again.

The Shortest Day

We left Ponferrada for what would be our shortest ride yet. Our next destination was only 26 kilometers away. However, it was a beautiful day. We are in the heart of the Bierrzo wine valley. It is lush and filled with gorgeous rolling hills filled with vines. We followed the camino trail through the vineyards soaking in the green hills and blue skies. As we made our entrance into Villafranca, Paul started noticing a problem with his bike. His gears seemed to be slipping, especially on climbs. It was in this same city four years ago that Paul had to have his bike repaired. After we checked into a our hotel de jour, we took his bike to the local bike shop. We explained the problem and the owner said he would take a look at it but to come back later as he was leaving for lunch. We did the same and then we set off to explore the tiny town. Villafranca sits nestled at the base of the mountains which separate the provinces of Leon and Galicia. Those mountains were our goal for tomorrow. For tonight. We just wanted a good meal. Unfortunately, that was not to be the case. We thought we had chosen well and the evening started off well. Sitting next to us were the first Americans we have met on the camino. Chris and Nora were a young couple from New York who were walking the Camino for the second time. They had done the first half last year and were finishing up this year. They were a delightful couple to chat with while
Waiting for service which was slow even for Spanish standards. We finally received our meals which frankly we both thought was the worst of our trip so far. We had ordered steaks with a sauce, which had been our standard dinner on the trip.Our's were covered in such a thick sauce which I think was meant to disguise how undercooked the meat was. I don't mind rare, but this was a 1/2 inch slab that was raw. When I complained, our snooty young heroin-addicted looking waiter, informed me that it was prepared as it should be. I was too tired to argue with him. But Paul and I were not happy. We paid our bill grudgingly and headed off to get some rest. Tomorrow, the big climb of the Camino beckoned.

A Relatively Easy Day

The weather was once again cool when we left Astorga in the morning. We had turned in early, no late evening for us on this day. We had toured the Bishop's
Palace, the Cathedral and the Museum of Chocolate. In the morning we felt well-rested and ready to take on our first major climb, a 6 kilometer climb that I remember as being quite daunting on our last trip. Whether it was the extra rest or perhaps better preparation, the long-anticipated climb did not turn out to be as difficult as expected. I made the climb on my own power. I would pedal for awhile and then take a break by the side of the road, taking in the stunning scenery. As we climbed, the area became very arid with lots of vibrant purple heather, sage and other scrub brush dominating the landscape. I made my way up the mountain slowly but I made it nonetheless. I met Paul at the Cruz de Hierro (The Iron Cross). It has become somewhat of a Mount Everest. Pilgrims leave all kinds of momentos at the base of the cross which soars some 20 feet high. Stones carried by pilgrims signifying sins or memories of loved ones are left as are other items such as worn shoes, flags, pictures and notes of importance and personal meaning. We climbed up to the very top and then began the most exhilirating ride down the mountain. The two-lane hairpin road led us down a hair-raising descent of nearly 45 kilometers an hour. Fear of death kept me pumping my brakes all the way down. Paul said the experience was like a great downhill ski run. We were rewarded for our morning efforts with a stop at Molinaseca, a quaint little town at the bottom of the mountain. You cross over a stone bridge. Underneath is a small pool where pilgrims can clean off after a long climb down. Since the wind did it for us, we chose to get a beer and bite instead. However, after watching and listening to the continual splashing of the pilgrims, we walked over to dip our toes in the pool. Pretty soon, Paul decided to take his shirt off and jump in. The water was pretty brisk but refreshing. His gusto convinced a young Italian girl who had been on the fence to ahead and jump in. Her screams let everyone know how cold the water was.
We headed off to our destination of the day: Ponferrada. A Templar castle indicated our arrival. We walked our bikes into the antigua casco (the old town) and began a search for a hotel as we did not have any reservations. The first two places were full but the third had an available room. We cleaned up quickly as there was an exhibit that we wanted to see. The cathedral was hosting an exhibit called "Yo Camino". Art collections from around Spain have been put together to explain the religious significance that is the Camino de Santiago. The exhibit was amazing. We listened to a guided tour that described the art through the centuries depicting the history of the Church and the Camino de Santiago and how that art was used to teach. The curators of the exhibit did an amazing job. We did our usual routine of drinks and dinner in the plaza and then headed off to bed.

Another Day, Another Plaza

The end of today's ride is the town of Astorga. It should have been a 45 kilometer ride, but it turned out to be more like 60.
After breakfast at the hotel, our first stop before leaving Leon was the post office. We of course had to mail ahead to Santiago Paul's four new pairs of shoes which weighed would have added 5 pounds of weight just as we are reaching our point of true climbing. With the shoes off, we left Leon. It is always a tricky endeavor leaving big cities by bike. The streets are very narrow, cars going to fast for safety. The sidewalks are on option but you are usually confronted by people who stop dead in their tracks to greet that long lost friend they haven't seen since the night before. It makes for a wild ride of dodge-em.Once out of the confines of the city, riding gets easier. However, I have been starting my morning rides with a belly full of butterflies. As I start my riding, I feel much like a student who has passed a test but has to take it again and not sure if they've prepared enough (I haven't). Once I get going I start to feel better. That is until the first incline. As I put my legs into pedaling my bike up the hill, it is almost meditative. However, the words I say over and over again have absolutely nothing to do with prayer. There is a cleansing effect that happens as I emit toxins from my body and my spirit so I guess I am achieving the intent of a true pilgrim.
We went a little out of our way today following a recommended route taken by previous bike riders of the Camino.However, it did not add much in the way of enjoyment and just made our day longer than expected. The day's weather is much cooler than expected making it downright chilly in the evening as we sit having a beer outside the Cathedral and the Bishop's Palace designed by Antonio Gaudi (origin of the word gaudy). As I write, Paul is being thoroughly entertained by several older gentlemen talking with other. Every time the church bells chime, they all check their watches. We plan to head to our room to warm up as it feels more like a late fall evening than the middle of August and we shipped ahead most of heavier clothing. Tomorrow we have our first really big climb which. Will take us into Galicia.

Rest Day Comes To An End

Paul and I sit at an outdoor bar enjoying a glass of tinto under a decidedly cooler Spanish evening. While people are out strolling, it is not the crowds we experienced last night. Outdoor tables were at a premium. People circled like vultures waiting to pounce as soon as a table even looked as if it were going to be free. With a cool chill in the night air, outdoor tables are an open selection.
Today's rest day included a lot of shopping. But if you assume that it was I partaking, you would be incredibly mistaken. As what can only be described as Paul doing his best Carrie Bradshaw imitation, we hit up shoe store after shoe store, where after the spree was over, Paul had four new pairs to add to the ones he purchased in Logrono. On sale no less! Said shoes are .Paul's favorite comfort wear. They are worn by just about all the older Spanish gentleman who look forward to comfort over fashion. They are lightweight and and definitely more comfortable than the heavy leather shoes worn in business. Paul now has enough to last him should we not return to Spain for the next several years. (He did get them in several colors too!)
Today was not all about shopping. We also took a tour of the Cathedral, which is absolutely magnificent. The amazing height of the ceiling which soars straight to heaven is matched only by the stunning stained glass windows which are made of such glorious vivid design and color as to be absolutely breathe-taking. We ended our evening as always: with a fabulous dinner and wonderful bottle of wine. We strolled past the Cathedral, lit up most magnificently. We decided an ice cream was in order and then we called it a night to our well-deserved rest day.

The Longest Day!

Today was our longest day of biking yet. Paul and I rode nearly one hundred kilometers (98 to be exact). The good news is that the day was much cooler than yesterday. The bad news: the reason for a break in the weather was the wind blowing directly in our face and bringing possible thunderstorms. For the most part the wind was not too bad and the road relatively flat. That enabled us to make our longest ride to date. We arrived in Leon where we are going to enjoy a well-earned rest day.
We continue to enjoy great meals and fine wines at dinner.
Some general impressions of our trip so far: we have met a lot of friendly people on this trip. A few spaniards are making the camino. But the majority of people we have met so far are Italian. It seems as if the whole of Italy is in Spain, especially those from Milan. Nearly everyone we chat with us from Italy.
We'll have to take a trip there sometime to meet some of the wonderful people we have met on our trip.
Other impressions about this trip: the change in technology. This blog is being written on Paul's blackberry. Last time I had to hunt for a ciber cafe to make posts. Now I do them while we are waiting for drinks or dinner. Another marvel is my Ipod. Aside from listening to music which gets me pedalling faster, we are using the Ipod to download the photos from our digital cameras. What a great inovation. On our last trip, we had to hunt down local photo stores to download the pictures and then burn a CD that we could mail home. It was a time-consuming process. What hasn't changed is that the trip to Santiago is hard, always has been, always will.

Well Done and Extra Crispy!

Yesterday was the hardest by far. It was our longest ride to date and the hottest as well. Temperatures soared to over 45 degrees centigrade, which by Paul´s calculation was over 115 degrees. We felt each and every one. We couldn´t drink enough water. Thankfully, each village has a public fountain where we could fill up our bottles. We needed every drop.
Impressions of the day included fields of wheat as far as the eye could see, surprising fields of lavendar, which made the day aromatic and storks every where. After baking in the hot Spanish sun, I hit an emotional and physical wall about three mile from our final destination, Carrion de Los Condes. When faced with one more little climb, my legs and head said, "no mas!" With Paul up ahead, I found a tiny space of shade behind one of the camino markers and just sat down until I could cool off and gather enough strength to make it up what I prayed would be the last climb of the day. (At the beginning of day or if were not so hot, that climb was just a tiny blip in the road, but given the day´s heat and length, it was enough to stop me in my tracks.) I finally got up and pushed up the hill to see Paul and our final destination just down the road. What a relief!

Day Four Successful!

The day's ride was another beautiful one. We spent most of the morning on the Camino. Overall, the riding is pretty good. However, it can be a little challenging at times. The gravel Camino is often filled with large stones, making it rather bumpy. Going downhill can be particularly intense as you don't want to hit a stone that's going to throw you over. We only had one large climb on the day. It was three kilometers up a 6 percent grade. The shoulder was very narrow which made it a little nervewracking with all the traffic.This time Paul and I had a plan in case we got separated so we would not be waiting for each other in the wrong places.
We arrived Burgos where it was a happening Friday night. The town plaza was jammed with families and couples walking arm and arm.
During the day's ride, we met some wonderful people. Katarina was an older German woman who was walking the camino. We we also met an older Spanish gentleman from Pamplona who was biking.

Vines, vines and more vines!

We finished our third day of biking a lot easier than yesterday. However, the morning was hard, due to the news from home. We awoke to hear of the horrifying bridge collapse in Minneapolis. Although it was 12:30 in the morning, I called Leigh (I knew she would be awake) just to make sure everyone was home safe. They were, but it did not lessen my heartache. What a tragedy.
So it was with an emotional weight that I began the day's ride. We headed off for Logrono, where we hoped to lessen some more physical weight. Paul wanted to find some lightweight casual shoes to replace his heavier leather ones. With that task accomplished we headed off to the post office where we shipped ahead another 15 pounds of we consider now excess stuff. (Besides patience and you are not in control, today's lesson from the Camino-you don't need as much stuff as you think!). I was very cocky that I was travelling as light as possible until I had to haul my stuff up hill, I am down to one biking short, three tops, one set of underwear, a toothbrush, camera and Ipod, plus cords. Paul similarly lightened his load.
After the post office, we headed out of town. Leaving is not an easy task as it was rush hour and drivers are not looking for bikes when they are in a hurry. One such driver made a left hand turn right into me. We both swerved hard and very narrowly avoided an early end to my trip. I was very shaken, Paul was mad. He yelled at the driver for not being more careful and wanting him to apologize for nearly running me over. When he wouldn't, Paul yelled at him and then took off after me. Never one to usually back down from a confrontation, I was too upset to deal with the idiot.
We finally got out of town and resumed our riding. The rest of the day was uneventful, if not downright beautiful. Our day was spent in the heart of the Rioja valley, filled with miles of vines as far as the eye could see...vines, vines and more vines. There were also fields of glorious sunflowers dancing in the breeze. We arrived at our evening destination hungry and tired.

What a hard day!

I knew today would be hard. My memory has not gotten that bad yet. But I was not prepared for how hard it would be. First of all, it´s always hard to get back into the saddle after your first day of riding. It´s worse when you start the day off with a climb. The cool morning air faded fast as we heated up with our efforts to go up a little hill. We opted to go for the road route instead of the pilgrim path, which we heard was very difficult for bikers. We made a good choice.
I was helped in my efforts by my Ipod. Biking along with Aretha Franklin belting out "Respect" gets those rubbery legs going. I made it up the first climb albeit a little slowly but feeling pretty good. That would be the last time.
We stopped for lunch and as we did, the temperature started climbing. Just outside of Estella is a bodega where there is a fountain which offers wine and water for pilgrims. (If you got their website (www.irache.com), you can see pilgrims at their live webcam. We arrived at 1:00 pm (6:00 am back home.) We woke our children and had them go to the computer so we could wave to them! Although we couldn´t see them, it was nice to know they could see us.

By this point, the sweltering Spanish sun was heating up the air like a convection oven. It was hot and there was no respite. Paul and I pushed on, but by this point, my age and lack of conditioning made any climbing impossible. My legs felt like jello and my head feltl like it was going to explode. It was hot. Paul would wait for me at the top of every climb, but all I could do was push my bike. We would take breaks when we could find shade and then push on. But all in all, it was a long day.

Paul made good use of his waits for me by talking to other pilgrims as they passed by, most of them walking. He met a young German gal whose knee was all bandaged. He asked her what had happened and she said she blew it out on her second day of walking. When asked if she had gone to the doctor, she said no. A chinese gentleman, also a pilgrim, applied some needles to her knee. Paul was amazed and asked if that had helped and she thought about it, then said, yes it had!

We ended our day in Viana, a small walled town, after biking 61 kilometers. Viana is famous for being the birthplace of the infamous Cesar Borgia. They are celebrating the 500th anniversary of said birth. There is a museum and such, but our goal was to get our day´s laundry done and head out for a well-deserved glass of beer, wine and dinner. Tomorrow we are going to the post office again and getting rid of more weight. Hopefully, things will improve on the route.