Camino Invierno: 7. Monforte de Lemos to Chantada. 33 kms

I wrestle with a rhyme.

As I struggle on a climb.

Up interminable mountain slopes.

But I give up with a curse

For the Oxford Book of Verse

Is well beyond my wildest hopes.

Today was cool and overcast, perfect weather for a walk in the woods. But the sun came out at the end of the day, in time for the brutal climb

It was a long, easy stroll out of town towards the hills. Red tomatoes on the vine, giant kale, melons in the field looking rather like pumpkins. Sheep were safely grazing.

Some gentle ups and downs, and then a more serious climb, and suddenly a lovely walk through the foothills along an ancient road carved around the the contour of the hill, a high stonewall on one side, a buttress against the field above, and a shorter one on the other, for the land sloped down. Then a sharp turn to the right, and I was walking on ancient stones where pilgrims must’ve trodden for a thousand years before me. This was an ancient road indeed , medieval, perhaps Roman, and every so often a similar road branched off, probably to an ancient hamlet. And then I arrived at the little hamlet of Piñero, once the destination of this road, but now reached from the other side by a modern road.

But this ancient path continued. As I walked over thick brown leaves rustling beneath my feet, oaks reached across to make a canopy. A few autumnal crocus had popped up their heads only to be knocked over in the direction of Santiago. But wait. A few survived behind a rock, spared by pilgrim feet.

This was the Camino that I loved, walking on ancient roads where many had gone before, constantly changing direction, not knowing what was round the next corner.

And then out into the open, high up on the slopes with hazy hills off to the left across a valley.

But then, the descent, on the medieval road again, straight down the slope at a steep angle for a thousand feet. I trod carefully over the rocks that made up the pavement, for any one of them might have tossed me for a tumble. Down to the water, with the little mishap which I mention later, across the bridge, and dreading the steep ascent, 1,000 feet up again.

A modern road looped back and forth up to the top, 1,000 feet up, but the Camino followed the medieval road for the most part, straight up, cutting across the loops. The first section was the best stretch of ancient cobbled road I have ever seen.

It was as steep as anything I have climbed. I stopped for breath every thirty or forty paces, and at longer intervals sat on the stone wall to recover. I am getting into the swing of things. I could not have done this a week ago.

When I finally reached the summit, I still had three or four kilometres to the town of Candada. A long, long day.

A word about apps and websites. On my first Camino, I didn’t even have a telephone. I may have used a telephone card, I forget. All has changed. Pilgrims are constantly looking at their phones, and so do I when I’m stuck. I use the website Gronze for planning the day ahead, and if I get lost, I use an app called Buen Camino, which the German lady with the dog had put me on to. It shows me where I am relative to the Camino. There must be similar apps.

It helped me twice today. First, when I’d come down the 1200 foot descent to the river towards the end of the day.  I’d missed a little path off to the right and down to the water, and was heading on along the track, expecting it to loop around and down. But it didn’t and was starting to climb again. Pilgrims down below across the water were yelling and screaming to attract my attention, but I didn’t hear them. Sensing something was wrong, I looked at the app and found I was off the Camino. I retraced my steps, and descended. And later, when I arrived at Candada, the app showed me where my Hostal was.

Thanks to those of you who have commented on my posts. I haven’t responded because I am having technical problems with Blogger.