O'Cebreiro to Triacastela

Total distance today = 13.1 miles

Total ascent = 656 feet

Cumulative distance = 404.7 miles

As we left O'Cebreiro this morning, we were truly thankful for the great weather we had yesterday. We walked away in heavy fog. Today would finally take us over 400 miles hiked, so the cold fog meant little. 

It didn't take too long for it to start lifting, leaving us with a different type of view. 

We were walking above the clouds. 

It gave a cemetery an eerie feel. 

Our first little village, Linares, had a small chapel where we got our credentials stamped. 

We soon started to climb to an even higher point than yesterday's climb over O'Cebreiro

San Roque is an intemediary point to Alto de Poio. 

This peregrino feels our pain.

The next village, Hospital (it had a refuge for peregrinos in medieval times), also had a little chapel where we got our second stamp for the day.   It has an unusual bell tower,

That I wanted to climb.

David found the altar piece intriguing. 

Who puts Baby Jesus on a crucifix?

We continued climbing as the day brightened, and we soon had great views again. 

Looking back on Hospital. 

As we came to one of the steepest parts of this morning's hike, we caught sight of the top. A cafe of course.

Pretty crowded and only mid morning, so we kept moving, taking a couple photos of our accomplishment. 

So, after all that climbing, it's time to head down to Triacastela at 2,182 feet, but we admired the views on the way down. 

Our way has been marked by a "new" marker since we entered Galicia. 

The path of the Camino de Santiago has changed since these markers were first put in place, so the remaining distance to a Santiago (K.133) is incorrect.

As we hiked, we passed through several farm villages, having lunch in Fonfria. As we ate, a huge tractor rolled by, an older lady drove a massive cow past the cafe, and "country air" permeated the area. 

As we walked out of the village, there was a loud explosion (gunshot?). That cow is now steak. 

We found dessert in the next village. A roadside stand with raspberries for sale. 

Yum. 

That sustained us for the rest of our trip into Triacastela (Three Castles - no longer there).  There is a very old and massive chestnut tree that grabbed our attention.

We'll end this post with a funny story from today. We have met and spent time with dozens of people and seen hundreds along the Camino. There are basically four types of people that we meet along the way. First, regular pilgrims from all around the world, who are walking pretty much like us. They are from everywhere conceivable in Europe, Asia, the Americas, Australia, etc. They tend to travel solo or in twos. Some are fast, some are slow, some are "pure" and some cheat a bit by using taxis or horses to skip over the hard parts. All have been pretty great and we have enjoyed meeting them.

Second, there are what we call the yakkers. We hear them coming before we see them, and hear them going long after we can't see them anymore. They talk nonstop, and sometimes are in groups of six to ten, with one 50+ group of teenage day hikers making a giant roar all of one morning. Yakkers can be old or young, but tend to be either old or young, not between.  Third, there are the Germans, and fourth, there are the French. The Germans are characterized by their walking sticks, which have metal ends and go clickety-clack incessantly. 

One characteristic of almost all peregrinos (pilgrims) that is shared in common is the language of greeting. Everyone says either "hola", "buen camino", or "buenos dias" in the best Spanish they/we can muster. Without exception. Except the French. They always greet in French. So this morning, as the fog was lifting and we were taking a little break at the top of a hill, we heard some yakkers coming. As they rounded a bend, we could see about eight older people, yakking in French.  We are not saying there WERE French, but they were speaking French. 

Now the Camino walk can involve bugs. We have been bothered by flies and gnats at various points on the walk, especially on hot days. This was not one of those days. There were no bugs or flies. However, as the French-speaking yakkers approached, we noticed a cloud of flies in front of them, over them, around them, and behind them.  Seriously - a cloud, just around them.  They stopped to greet us - "Bonjour" from each of them, with our reply, "buenos Dias, buen Camino" to each of them.  They then marched off yakking in French, with the cloud of flies going away with them.  We're not saying they are French, they certainly could have been Belgian or Swiss, but we just looked at each other and almost fell over laughing. It was almost too much to believe.  We love all of our fellow peregrinos, but some stereotypes are unintentionally reinforced every day. Wonder what they say about us?