Gabe's Travels

This may be the shortest post on the blog, as it felt as though I did not do anything on this day. Other than walk, of course. I chatted with a few people briefly on the road, but for most of the day I was just plodding along. The one big noteworthy thing that happened was that I finally passed Sarria. Sarria is the last city before the 100km mark required to get your certificate, so it is the most popular starting point on the entire Camino. While I think starting there is perfectly valid, I also think it's an extremely different experience from starting earlier, and that is reflected in both the people and the businesses you encounter afterwards. The people are less friendly, as they tend to view this more as a fun hike than as a communal experience, and the number of them playing music on portable speakers increases dramatically. The businesses become more about, well, business, and much of the charm is gone. Also, there are way more vending machines. I d...

The hardest ascent on the Camino is pretty universally agreed to be getting over the Pyrenees on the first day. The second, in the opinions of most people I've talked to, is O Cebreiro. In the morning I woke up and headed out early, deciding not to eat breakfast at my albergue, so that I could instead eat just before the climb, both to break up the day and to ensure I was fueled up for the ascent. I was still almost 10km out from where the trail got serious, but it was a smooth walk along the highway, and I got there with minimal trouble. During breakfast, a tour van pulled up to the cafe and about 20 people filed in to get stamps and use the bathroom. This was a sign of the changing nature of the Camino, as after O Cebreiro it becomes much more touristy, and this trend doubles down after Sarria. Once I'd eaten, I headed out and began my climb. The ascent was tough, but not exceptionally so. I've always liked climbing hills, a...

In between the big decent from the Cruz de Ferro and the big accent to O Cebreiro the Camino passes through a beautiful valley filled with vineyards and picturesque country houses. My goal was to push as far as I could towards O Cebreiro, so that I could tackle the climb on as fresh of legs as possible the next morning. My way out of town was pleasant, as I saw a set of very entertaining murals underneath a highway overpass, and managed to find a breakfast that was both a) not tortilla and b) full of protein, which I was still craving after the big hike yesterday. After that though, the rest of the day's walk set in. This day was long. In fact, it felt nearly interminable. Part of this was probably so many long days in a row starting to wear on me, but part of it was also the fact that the path today seemed to wind around the rim of the valley, so that instead of feeling like I was going anywhere, it instead felt as if I was standing ...

I got an early start from Rabanal, since today was a 30km day. No walk in the park even when the trail was flat, today I had to first ascend to the highest point on the Camino, and then face a long, steep decent. My knee was feeling okay, though I could certainly still tell it wasn't at 100%, as I made my way up the mountain. There was a town near the top where I planned to have breakfast, and I spent the time as I climbed up thinking. The highest point on the Camino is marked by the Cruz de Ferro, an iron cross set up high on a pole, and there is a tradition to leave a rock at the cross symbolizing your sins, or something that you wish to leave behind. Considering what this would mean for me occupied a good chunk of my time on the hike up. Eventually I reached the top of the mountain, and the Cruz do Ferro. I spent a few moments there in reflection, then dropped my stone into the pile of others. It bounced a few times, then disappeared from view. I pressed ...

Because I'd pushed on yesterday, I had a choice to make today. I could either stop after a short 15km in Astorga, by all accounts a very lovely city, or continue on an extra 20km to reach Rabanal, cutting an extra day off my arrival in Santiago. I decided to play it by ear, and set off for Astorga. The Meseta wasn't going to make it easy to get out though. When I left my albergue in the morning, the Spanish weather bureau in León had issued a wind warning, and I was walking straight into it. Even with my wind shell on over my fleece, it was cold. Thankfully the next town was only a few kilometers away, but heading out alone into the dark with the wind buffeting me at every step was certainly a unique and memorable experience. At breakfast, I once again ran into the same couple I'd met on the road yesterday, and chatted with them a bit, since they were in the same dilemma as me. Halfway through breakfast, another familiar face walked in, and I got to ...