We turned out to be very lucky. We assumed full rain and dressed accordingly. Here’s the bridge onto the trail.
Here’s me walking in the rain:
I thought Rick was just taking a photo. That floppy hat under my raincoat hood is Rick’s. Thank goodness he threw it into his pack. Sadly, yesterday I discovered that I’d lost my best hat ever that protected me from sun and rain throughout the trip. Well, hopefully someone else is really happy with their new hat!
Then the rain lightened up and rainbows started showing up. There was a double rainbow, but didn’t show up in the photo.
But mostly – it wasn’t raining! Instead it was serene, green and beautiful. We both had a wonderful walk. I was dawdling again with photos, rocks, etc. so we mostly walked separately and dreamed our way through the day. Here are a few shots over the day:
The cows are faint, but they were so relaxed. I ended up taking a video for myself to remember what it’s like to have a quiet mind on a perfect day. They were very very slowly moving to the right, eating grass, moseying along.
This is us when we saw the ocean. We actually weren’t sure, another cloud bank? Hills? Then Rick saw a very large boat – yep the ocean. I can’t even imagine what it would have been like for a pilgrim who’d never seen the ocean and had walked for so many miles.
Well, we debated a bit about whether to do the full 21 miles, but decided to stay with the arrangements I’d made back when I booked. I was told many do the transfer and it worked out great. We took a taxi to our start point and it started to really rain. Maybe 3 moments of sun, 1 rainbow, and the rest was rain, pouring rain, rain with wind, wind, back to just rain and it was great. Truly.
We had just the right clothes, stayed dry enough and warm enough and it was a day dreamy kind of day. At the end, I started getting pretty tired and Kylie saved me with her “mom’s playlist.” Rick wondered why I was suddenly walking so much more quickly and it was fun! Singing aloud – no one could hear – and dancing a little with great bluegrass moments, just fun. Many dairies of different sizes and styles. So here’s the green, the cows, and a small cat that jumped into my pack as I was getting into my rain pants.
Rick and I are walking to Fisterra (Galician spelling) or Finisterre (Spanish). The end of the earth. A Camino website writes this: Until the end of the Middle Ages, the Costa da Morte was the last outpost in the known world. The place from where pre-Roman peoples believed that souls ascended to heaven. A mythical, symbolic place which would leave the Roman conquerors open-mouthed when they saw the sun disappear behind the immense ocean. From then, the farthest point of Cape Fisterra magnetised all its visitors.
The Fisterra and Muxía Way, is the most faithful realisation of the historical cry of the pilgrim exclaiming Ultreia! (“Let us go farther beyond!”), while another responds with Et suseia! (“And higher!”). In effect, it is beyond the goal in Compostela and, after prostrating themselves before the remains of the Apostle Santiago, many pilgrims decide to get to know this end of the world, and they do not hesitate to overcome the sacrifices of the hard days they have just endured in order to walk, at least, four or five days more. Fisterra is 89 kilometres away and Muxía 87.
We’re going to Fisterra, but Muxia is the place to go if you’re saying a final farewell to someone. After watching The Way, Rick turned to me months ago and said, “you’re going to the ocean, right?” I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m so glad he said we should add it on.
I don’t know why, but I assumed that the old beautiful villages would be done when we left Santiago, but no. I’ve included a video of one we walked through about an hour outside of Santiago. But first – night time, early morning with the moon and then distant view of the cathedral at sunrise. Just a magical edifice.
The walk was beautiful today. I realized, though, as we went through more ancient areas that I had lost my constant companion – The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago. For 6 weeks, I’ve carried pages every day giving me stories, architectural, historical and religious relevance for just about every town I came across. Rick told me he’d read that I’d gone through 350 towns in those weeks – a stat related to the Camino Frances. And – the book is done. Stopped in Santiago. I kept reaching for my pocket when I saw a small ancient church or something like this – so beautiful! But what’s the story?
Obviously a dam and some kind of water mill – still had the stones inside, but what about that beautiful little ivy covered building nearby? And the bridge? The town is called Ponte Maceira. Luckily there was a little plaque with English near by.
“Ponte Maceira, the small big paradise of the Way to Fisterra-Muxia, is one of the most unique historical sites in Galicia and all the Ways to Santiago.” On a side note – I have seen an awful lot of signs with the words “most unique” “biggest” “most important”. But – this was a beautiful little town.
“The Ponte Vella (Old Bridge) was built in the 13th and 14th c and reconstructed in the 18th c.”
“Crucial battles also took place here, like the one that faced bishop Xelmirez and Count of Traba, 12c. Also, the St. James tradition tells that on the riverside of Negreira, the divine intervention would pull down a bridge saving the disciples of the Apostle St. James from the Roman soldiers.”
So – there’s a little bit. But I still miss the authority of my book. Here’s the inside of the mill:
And the walk with forests and ancient walls was great.
3 more days to go, can’t believe it. Then – done. Here’s the video of the little town:
Our hotel is named thus because the building was directed by Ferdinand and Isabella. They did the pilgrimage, with their entourage, and arrived in Santiago. I’m sure THEY had room at the inn somewhere, but they saw that most pilgrims didn’t.
They ordered it (named Royal Hospital) to be built in 1499 and it’s now considered one of the world’s oldest hotels. The directive from the royals: “Insofar as we have been informed and confirmed that in said city of Santiago, where many pilgrims and the poor of many nations converge to visit the blessed St. James Apostle and Patron of our Spains, there is a great need for a hospital to take in the poor pilgrims and the sick who make a pilgrimage there, and for lack of this building, many of the poor sick and pilgrims have perished and do perish on the floor of said church and in other areas, as they have no place to stay and no one to receive them and lodge them…we therefore order a hospital to be built at our expense, which we will provide for from our own income.”
There are about 80 well-written plaques around the hotel describing its history and that of the city around the hospital. In my enthusiasm with history, I was ready to read all of them. Ran out of steam, but I did get glean a few key facts.
I started this morning after sitting in one of the squares of the cloister for quite a long time. With the time change, the light changed around 8am so took this video of the four courtyards.
There was always a hotel function, but it was also a hospital for the poor, housed an orphanage for foundlings, grew extensive gardens with medical plants and made/provided medicines for the poor and pilgrims.
The building was a city in miniature, with its own corps of priests, health workers, apothecaries, accountants and servants. Physicians trained here. We had dinner in one place that used to be the stables and then the autopsy room. Very flexible thinkers about space…Rick noticed this placard –
The leech tank. This area was also the hot water room and brazier, giving heat and comfort to patients.
The king and queen gave sole authority to the hospital administrator. This made for challenges because even the archbishop and church authorities couldn’t intervene. If a captive made it past the barrier outside, they were protected if the hospital agreed to house them (except for murderers, highwaymen and other criminals – they weren’t accepted).
Early authors noted that just crossing the through the hospital’s facade must have been a mystical experience because of the welcome and care that greeted them and the message of salvation carved into the doorway.
Early morning shot.
The Catholic Monarchs actually “sent a request which specified which facades would be stonework or dry stone, the decoration of the facades, the royal and religious symbols that would adorn the courtyards, the types of wood for floors and roofs, and even the setting up of animal pens, a garden, a cemetery, fountains, and fireplaces.” Amazing.
Here are the meeting rooms at this hotel, seriously flexible with how space is used now…
As Rick said, imagine the wedding you could have! These rooms were part of the original, of course, as this is the the church for the Royal Hospital. I mean, you couldn’t just go next door. We do marvel at this fact. We did tours of the Cathedral and of the giant monastery in the next building over. So 3 huge churches on one block. Well, the 3 that we saw, probably more that we didn’t see on this square since one building is the seminary and the other the governmental palace.
I digressed. At first the Royal Hospital had just two courtyards, but in the mid-1700’s they realized they needed more space and medical facilities, so expanded to the large square it is now, including the two new garden courtyards. After this expansion, the foundling orphanage was housed here. This note about the orphanage is worth repeating:
“From it’s founding through 1846, every year the Royal Hospital took in hundreds of children abandoned by their parents. On San Francisco Street, there was a window with a bell and a revolving compartment like those in cloistered convents. A person would ring, wait to hear “Ave Maria, gratis plena” and then leave the newborn.
“Overseeing the orphanage was the headmistress, who also ran the female pilgrims’ quarters. The babies were given to the parish churches, which forcibly distributed them among breastfeeding peasant women. The hospital provided a few changes of underwear and a stipend. Only one out of every five children reached the age of two, although the survivors were sheltered until they were six. After this, the males learned a trade and the girls were handed over to convents.
“In later years, care noticeably improved. The Orphanage Method from 1821, describes what the person on duty should do with an abandoned baby: ‘You will pick it up, caress it, undress it immediately, noting the number, color and quality of its clothing, garments, marks and any papers it might have. You will wash it in warm water with a bit of wine and soap and then wrap it up. In this room there will be a fire and two or more dry beds, a few ounces of chicory syrup with rhubarb, which is the best baby food for the first hours, and a little cream of rice with sugar to distract those who may be older.”
Even with this updated care, it’s amazing any survived.
In 1953 a new hospital opened up and all of the patients and medical staff moved to the new facility. As soon as they moved, the National Institute of Industry (under Franco) got started. In 9 months, working 24 hours a day, they pulled down and rebuilt 22,000 square meters of roofs, 12,000 m2 of stone walls erected, 12 hectares of walls painted, and 20,000 m2 underground prepared, and more. A lot more. They worked “even on Sundays.” The hotel opened on July 24, 1954, on the eve of St. James Day.
I can’t imagine the pressure. Because July 25 falling on a Sunday is what determines the Jacobean holy year. That’s this year too.
Here are the garden courtyards in the daylight:
And here’s a photo of Rick and me – with our backs facing our direction tomorrow when we start walking again towards the ocean and Finisterre.
And here’s an afternoon shot before the rain of everyone out enjoying a festival day before tomorrow’s holiday for All Saints Day.
Santiago is so beautiful. I really haven’t been great about capturing it. I’ll try tomorrow.
We came in yesterday, last post showed the map and photo, but I had a period of needing to remember it was the journey not the destination – to slip into platitudes. A bit of a let down, since I couldn’t go into the cathedral – it had closed for siesta, etc. But I’ve more than rallied since.
Here’s a series on our way on the last day. Bit of light starting as I look up through the trees at the moon:
Behind groups (young girls group singing)
Pilgrims starting to gather in more numbers, though nothing like what would be typical at this point:
Woods outside Santiago – this was the best entry into a large city that I’ve had so far:
Don’t fret, after very early start 7 am with 1.5 hours in solid dark:
The bridge over the river at the town where pilgrims had their ritual cleaning before arrival. Most for the very first time since starting – ach.
Really, that’s a smile, we were just getting a bit tired.
On Mt. Gozo – the final hill and the first sighting of the Iglesia de Santiago – though just a bit through the mists:
Walking through the city of Santiago – pretty even here though not yet into medieval part:
And Santiago and the cathedral. Hard to capture, but the video shows the square, our hotel is the first building after the cathedral. I’ll come back to that too, because it’s completely wonderful.
Rick had a meeting so we went into our hotel, marveled at it, showered and had lunch. The cathedral had to wait until the 7:30 mass. Rick has done more masses with me than he has since he stopped going in Brooklyn Heights after not missing a Sunday in his 22 years.
But we did get our certificates and I got an extra one that showed how far I walked:
THEN TODAY
Up early, went to the 7:30 mass because I wanted to see the cathedral without the masses. I do love the quiet mornings, Rick took quiet time with room service coffee – we were both very happy.
And here’s the inside of the church. Startlingly different, love the history and the adoration that is linked to the church, but will stick with the Cathedral of Leon for pure magic. This is from the 7:30 pm mass last night, the place was completely full by the time the service started, including the wings where we sat.
This morning, clear altar:
I’m going to write tomorrow about the cathedral and a bit of its history and St. James’ relics. Then, very fun, Scott and Cecilia Kuhn came in from Switzerland to join us for the weekend. Our details as we walked around suddenly became much richer since Cecilia is Chilean and Scott is also fluent in Spanish. We did a tour of the back of the cathedral, the library, treasury, outside walk upstairs, art that had been collected as things shifted or needed to be preserved. I particularly liked this piece. Now immediately recognized St. Ann with Mary and child, and then looked at the sign and I was right!
And here’s the last Botafumeiro, also called the great censer, in the library now to keep it safe, 60k of silver plated brass, from mid 1800’s. The current one is an exact replica, but not real silver. The Botafumeiro was used in the Middle Ages to purify the relics venerated during the service, but it also evidently helped with the profound smell of 100’s of unwashed pilgrims post walking for 100’s of miles. It holds a large amount of incense and as it swings, the incense puffs out in giant clouds of fragrant smoke.
I had so wanted to see it in action. I knew that if someone paid $300/$400 (numbers change) it would be used in a service. But this is also a holiday, All Saints. It was definitely going to be used on Monday at 11:40 in conjunction with the festival mass. I could do this if I could get in to the service, but Rick would be walking alone and I’d be walking late. Then Cecilia, bless her, got into conversation with the man keeping watch over the library as they talked about the old Botafumeiro. He told her they were going to do this at the 12N service. Oh boy!! So psyched.
It was a serious mass. After the last two masses, many more priests and one of them was a Cardinal? Archbishop? Bishop? We think it was a cardinal. Wonderful face, red cap, mitre hat, fancy robes, serious group. Oh boy, it might really happen. Sue had told me to sit on the wing – the cross – of the pews because of how the Botafumeiro swung. The Cardinal gave a homily, this was more than the standard Peregrino mass. I caught some and then Cecilia told us a brief summary. About humility, being kind and generous to others. Don’t put God on airplane mode. She said he really was wonderful and I loved his presence as he gave the talk. The communion happened, which they have down given that there must have been 1000+ People there, standing room only.
And then, was it happening? Two more priests came out of the door next to us carrying chunks of smoking incense, oh boy…
We’d been told repeatedly “no phones during mass” and then as it became clear that the Botafumeiro was going to swing, we were also told to stay seated – serious injury could happen. People stayed seated, but boy the phones came out. I righteously didn’t bring mine out, though it was close, but truly when the organ boomed into song, the Botafumeiro was lowered and filled, then hoisted up and then – it started to swing. Oh my goodness, it was magic. I lost all impulse to grab the phone and just watched as it went higher and higher until it was just shy of hitting the ceiling with the organ playing a grand piece of music. Seriously. Wow, just thinking of it gives me chills. It was so so wonderful. Cecilia, bless her, was in the same state, but suddenly thought of her mom and brought out her phone, so – you get to see a bit of the Botafumeiro in its wind down swinging.
So – a completely wonderful day. Fun lunch out, we’ll have dinner tonight here in the fancy restaurant that I’ll go to in work out clothes, basically. But most others there will be the same!
It was supposed to be a little over 12 miles, but we missed (I thought) the fountain and chapel of Saint Irene, so we walked a good bit back to see – realized, oh, I took photos of this, thought it was the church of Saint Vincenzo. Nope. I’ll come back to this.
We started out really early today, at 7:30, pitch black when out of the city lights which was pretty quickly. But we wanted to beat the rain and have quiet in the morning. Which we did and it was completely wonderful. Today was one of those blissful days for me – of which I’ve had an amazing number. I just walked all day. Didn’t listen to anything but the birds, cows, dogs, roosters, my footsteps. Rick and I talked a bit here and there, but mostly walked separately as I dawdled. At first we walked pretty briskly, but then I realized we were striding not strolling and I wanted to stroll. Empty the rocks out of my shoes, find a bush, take photos, have a snack, that sort of thing. So I did!
Rick bought a headlamp in Melide and that made a big difference for the first hour until it started to get light and I slowed down. Our first stop was here for a much needed coffee for Rick:
It came as a shining beacon and the place was so cute. We would have eaten, but it was too early, so carried on.
There was a bit of a ditch between me and the barbed wire, so you just have to look past the wire. It was beautiful.
Another potential stop for breakfast, but not open yet. I read everything – it was in English as well as Spanish – but then decided the writer, while expressive, was a bit confused as to what they were trying to advocate. But fun to read their exploration of taking the Bible into current day living.
Then great breakfast. Rick realized yesterday too much gluten was flaring things and I’m A-OK with cutting back on bread. We found a great place that did eggs and ham, fresh orange juice, coffee, hot chocolate. We walked in to quiet and within 10 minutes it was full of pilgrims. The two tables next to us filled up with 8 Spanish guys who ordered food, but first got their beers, bottle of vodka, glass of red wine for one and settled in. It was 10am. They saw my grin looking over and wanted us to join, but I said I wouldn’t be able to walk. They were laughing, no – this helps the digestion! The walking! Join in – they were all raising their glasses. So happy. I stuck with my orange juice, but enjoyed watching and listening to their camaraderie.
Next stop – had to take this photo and get a stamp. The guy had written a book about the Camino and its spiritual journey, had unpacked his van next to the Camino with a handy rest stop and set up his stella, books, signs and incense. That’s my second Camino passport spread out with the stella ready to go.
And then Irene. Ah, Irene. So – I’d read about the Chapel and Fountain of Irene. Here’s what’s very confusing.
Cute little chapel, built in the 17th c, but while it’s called the Chapel of Saint Irene (well Capella de Sta Irene), it’s actually dedicated to San Pedro. Really? How does that work? And which Saint Irene? From Rome? Died 288 AD, was a Christian woman in the Roman Empire during the reign of Diocletian. OR Saint Irene of Tomar, Portuguese: c. 635-653, a Christian who was martyred for her faith in Visigothic Portugal. Guessing the second. But then where does San Pedro come in? Explored online, but it’s just going to stay a Camino mystery.
Then next to the Chapel is a wonderful old fountain with a history that’s much more clear. You can’t see the actual water fountain here, it’s just to the side.
Notes from online: The water emanating from this source is able to kill pests and plagues of crops, so it was used to spray the crops. Also, it is presumed that it cured all the ills of children, who stopped crying when they passed by the image of Saint Irene. Sadly, the image from 1692 was stolen in the 80’s.
It wasn’t the first time stealing happened in this area. In 1808 Napoleon’s troops, on their way to Santiago, entered and robbed in this chapel before going to sleep in the atrium of the parish church of Arca – next town over.
Then, using the Chapel of Saint Irene for location, just after, if you looked south, you could see Pico Sacro:
Hazy with incoming weather, but you can see the peak. Here’s the story from the CC Book III (note below) within the Pilgrimage book:
“The martyred St. James’ body was brought to Galicia for burial. The lady Lupa, the region’s ruler, set Santiago’s disciples many trials in order to secure her permission to bury the Saint. The last was to take the body to Mt. Ilicino and to harness to the burial cart the wild oxen they would find there. She neglected to mention the fierce dragons that were terrorizing the mountain’s inhabitants. With faith, and some judicious exorcisms, the disciples banished the dragons, and the ferocious oxen, cowed by the miraculous example, came placidly to the cart. The mountain was renamed Pico Sacro. Centuries later, Christians built a small chapel to Santiago on the mountain.”
I mean, dragons! How could I not want to see the peak?
More than you ever wanted to know – but I’d like to have it as a record, so putting it here. This is one of the main sources referred to repeatedly in The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago by David M. Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson that I keep using as my reference guide throughout my trip. I realized I never really explored the Liber Sancti Jacobi. Codex Calixtinus de la Catedral de Santiago de Compostela. It was referred to in the movie The Way by the Irish poet making a passionate argument about Roland (I think).
This is the link if you want to learn more about it – but to summarize. The book was written between 1160 and 1173 by several people, but it was brought about by Calixtus, who become Pope, but before that was a monk and then the Abbott of Cluny. He, the secretary at Cluny, and others were instrumental in getting it written. One of the books of the Codex was a guide for pilgrims. Here’s the site online for a full description – it’s really good!
The town where we’re staying is wonderful, a small medieval town with our hotel less ancient and great. Great food, comfortable room and it’s pouring rain out while we’re cozy inside and looking forward to dinner. Plus there’s a little living room like area next to our room and I’m sitting here writing, watching the rain and feeling completely happy.
The thought that popped into my head today was that I would be happy to go home. Not rushing it, but will be happy when it unfolds. It’s a gift when a transition will happen that you’re not dreading or desperate for, but just pleased that it will happen when it does happen. Make sense?
So, this town cleared up a mystery for me. I’ve been so curious about these horreos, the little buildings up high that have been everywhere. I was told that they were for grain. Did I write this already? Anyway, neither Rick nor I had come up with that guess. In the old days, the horreo in the yard indicated someone’s wealth. The size of the farm determined how big someone was allowed to build their horreo. The families stored their grain in the horreo to dry out, stacked on shelves, or piled, but the air could get through, the water couldn’t and rodents couldn’t get up to it.
Today, Rick and I first saw someone who was piling her corn on top of a small building to dry. We actually saw her laboriously pushing her wheelbarrow up next to Irene’s chapel to her house, then piling the corn up. I wanted to help when I saw her going back down for the next load, such hard work, but thought better not.
Then I was taking a video of this town just to show it and realized at the very end that four people were actually using the horreo! Sadly, I didn’t want to seem voyeuristic so stopped once I realized what I was seeing. Older folks, two men up next to and in the horreo, two women sorting and piling corn from a small wagon into pails and handing them up – relay to get the corn into the horreo. I came back and asked the guy downstairs at the hotel about it. He said the corn would be in there all year. It’s used now for animals. Before corn was also used for flour, but no longer. The corn that most people eat comes from big industrial farms, like our Nebraska.
Here’s a small group of ancient buildings, including the horreo, that someone has made livable. If I can get it to go, a wee video.
Had a few notes from last night. Melide was a not a destination as far as interest goes, more timely with miles and hotels, same for where we are now. In fact, there’s nothing to write about for Arzúa. There’s a church from 14c, but we couldn’t get in and my book says “the main entrance could not be more nondescript.” The other church was built in 1955. So – last night. Melide at least had a medieval square, with church, capilla, and buildings that used to be the hospice. I took a short video of the square.
The church was 14c Franciscan, but I particularly liked the Capilla de San Roque. Now, I’ve lost the piece of paper with the description, but it was a tiny chapel to Saint Anthony. There was a kneeling knight who was also the benefactor who built the chapel and his name was … Anthony. I assume his Catholic name after the saint. So I looked up the Saint – wondering if any of the saints become saints without being martyred. He did! Wikipedia: “Noted by his contemporaries for his powerful preaching, expert knowledge of scripture, and undying love and devotion to the poor and the sick, he was one of the most quickly canonized saints in church history.” I told Rick and he said his family used to appeal to St. Anthony for lost things – yep and for fishermen and sailors. Guess he’d be Rick’s guy! The Pilgrimage book noted it for a small space where you could sit in quiet and get out of the Galician rain. Happily, the rain has held off, but it did invite quiet sitting. A treat.
Today was beautiful, quiet and sunny. We actually debated going the next 11.8 miles – to tomorrow’s hotel and taxiing back bc it is supposed to be raining tomorrow. But, happily, we decided against it. When we got to Arzúa, I realized that my mind was good with 8+ and wasn’t ready to keep going. It’s such a mindset.
But tomorrow’s rain isn’t supposed to start until later so we’re going to do another early/dark morning hike to relish the quiet and we’ll put some food in our packs to hold us until we find an open cafe. Can take a while because the Spanish do not get up early!
Scenes from today:
The woman with the cute pink car and stand looked quite industrious and I loved the name on the sign. Didn’t get anything because I didn’t need anything, but hope she sells a lot to others
I thought this river (everything’s a river here) crossing was amazing. They must have somehow gotten a piece of serious machinery down the trail to make this bridge, the stones were big!
This was a cool church because this was the terminus for people doing the pilgrimage for the 2 years around the 1918 Spanish flu epidemic. They weren’t allowed to go further. There was a plaque outside to those who died from COVID. First time I’ve seen this anywhere and I guess appropriate given the church’s history. It’s a more recent remodel (18c?), but the site started in the 8th c as a church.
Final shot – getting our morning tea/hot chocolate, fresh orange juice and treat (Rick’s completely given up the impossibility of his diet here and will deal with the consequences when he gets home) with cows in the background and the building next to the Puente Ribadiso, a site for a bridge from at least 572, the current one much more updated.
Another great day! Just realized you can see me taking the photo…Notice the poles leaning up on the railing. I may have to name them, they have been the best.
Outside our window was this version of the horreo. So we’ve now seen them in the cities as well as villages, fancy, brick, wooden, some with crosses on them. I asked a group of Spaniards behind us at one point, but they didn’t know either. Guessing animals, fire under, but didn’t know really. I’ll find out.
A short day today, but really nice. The weather gave us another day starting with mist and then moving to clear, cool and sunny.
At one point, Rick had gone ahead (I thought, turns out he took a wrong turn and had to catch up) and I was in this cool road – similar to above, but much further along. In English, they used to call this kind of sunken road a “holloway”, I don’t know if it has a name here. I love them. Then shortly after, I was in a tree alley.
Pilgrim statues point us on our way and a Santiago cross at the start of our walk:
One of my dawdling points that Rick joined in was a church open with a priest who was collecting money for a stamp on the Camino passport. He then left so that another guy and I could take a photo:
Amazing care taken for a small church for an even smaller town. In Wise Pilgrim, the town was described as smaller than its name: Campanilla.
Medieval bridge into Furelos, a town described as “abandoned”, but was just a wonderful small medieval town.
I wish I could have gone into the town’s church. Evidently there’s an unusual Jesus on the cross, one arm is pointed to heaven and one to earth. That had to have been pretty radical with pieces of the church remaining from the 13th c.
Final note: I missed the town of Leboreiro. I really wanted to see it, but guess it was so small it didn’t register as a town. I’d wanted to see it because of the miracle of the fountain near the church. When I realized I’d missed it, I asked Rick – he didn’t notice it, asked another woman, she said there was a bench with the name, but didn’t see the church.
The miracle as described in The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago:“ A legend describes the founding of the Church of Santa Maria. A heavenly odor and, at night, a shining light emanated from a nearby fountain. Villagers dug up an image of hte Virgin there and placed it on the altar of their church, but the next day they could not find the image, for it had returned to the fountain. This happened for several days, until the villagers carved this tympanum and dedicated the church to her, at which point the image remained calmly on the alter. This Virgin, with the lovely smile of someone who has gotten what she wants, is still in the church. Reports indicate that in the 1960’s some villagers believed that she returned to the fountain every night to comb her hair.”
Isn’t that great? I seriously considered retracing my steps since we were already at our town and it was just 12n. It would have added 5 miles. But when others said they didn’t see anything, I didn’t know how far or exactly where the church would be and it was unlikely to be open. So – missed. Sigh. But a great day!
Rick wanted to have that quiet morning before tons of people got started and we did get an early start, 7:45 with sunrise at 8:56. Luckily, I had a wee lantern that you hang in a tent. I’d told Rick to not to bring a head lamp since I hadn’t needed one. Oops. But it turned out to be wonderful. There were other people out too, but between the dark and mist, everyone was quiet and it was a wonderful early walk.
Not much happened on the way, nor did we see any buildings of significance. I later read that the part that we walked today used to be a famous open air brothel. Calm now…
Weather cleared up around 12, but it was nice all the way, scenic for sure. Farm after farm with cows, chickens and farmers. For all the ham that’s at EVERY meal, we have never seen a pig.
This little church was notable because of the tight careful cemetery behind it:
Photo below was taken from a notice outside the church that had the information that it was a 16c church and they were very proud of it in their town, so sweet. I’m guessing that at some point the town had more than 5 houses.
The next chapel we passed, well, Rick passed, I stopped because I stop at everything interesting. He’s very patient with me, just sits down and relaxes. A guy inside had a “stello” that is the pilgrimage stamp. First for the church and then asked me if I wanted one with the Knights of Templar stamp. Well, of course! The stones of the little chapel were taken from the rubble of a 12c church that the Knights of Templar built that had been ruined in different wars and events. Tiny little chapel. No photos allowed of the inside.
Then we had the cow parade.
A little bitty dog was acting very important as if it was herding the cows. The cows, who clearly didn’t need much herding, were walking along the sidewalk and would notice the dog, then walk into the street towards the dog to let it know it was superfluous then back to the sidewalk. I thought the woman in grey who didn’t seem to know that she might be the one to move out of the way was pretty funny in her reactions.
We saw the farmer with a big black dog who clearly knew how to herd, but he kept the dog with him as they waited for the last cow (guessing they’d just been milked) to dawdle out of the farm and over to the pasture.
Got some lunch and then kept going to our next hotel in Palas de Rei. Nothing of significance happened here. Well, it’s historically significant if you’re interested in wars, transfer of power back and forth, but for our tale, nothing to report and it’s all pretty new now. Might even just stay in tonight and leave early tomorrow again.
Reb's Walks! 