Day forty one - Sunday November 28

Departed: Rabanal del Camino 8am
Arrived: Ponferrada 3:30pm
Total hours: 7.5
Total kms: 32.5
Accumlated kms: 1315.3
Weather: Sunny and perfect

Today I climbed to the highest altitude of the entire Camino, 1515m above sea level. As I started from fairly high up though, it really didn't feel like as high as I was in the Pyrenees. It definitely felt colder though. Although the snow storm didn't really happen, it did snow a little bit over night and so I got to walk through slippery white stuff all day, which was awesome. I slipped a lot, and bit the snow dust twice, once in a really comical, near backflip kind of slip. I'm glad I have a padded pack, otherwise I might have snapped my spine with that one.

The walk today was, I think, the most beautiful of all days so far. The snow on the ground, the mountains surrounding me, the quiet, the sun, the cold air, it was just amazing. Even falling over into the snow was fun.

I passed the famous and revered emonument known as the Iron Cross, which turned out to be essentially a telegraph pole with a cross stuck into the top of it. At the base was a minor mountain of stones, and the story goes like this: you take a stone or rock from where you live to represent your sins or regrets or something like that, carry it across the country with you, deposit it at the base of the Iron Cross, and all is forgiven. I didn't bring a stone, and as my Swiss friends mentioned a few weeks ago, it's probably because I have no sins or regrets, which I'm very happy with. I believe you're also supposed to pick up a stone and carry it the rest of the way, so as to carry someone else's sins. I wouldn't expect anyone to carry my sins so I wasn't about to carry anyone else's for them. In the end I took a photo and that was about the end of the business transaction between the Iron Cross and myself.

Yesterday I met a Canadian called Blake, who has decided to try to keep pace with Filipe and I (he's also agreed to the rules of walking alone and meeting up at night in the albergue). We had a long conversation over dinner, and he told me I was the first Australian he's met (and he's met many, he's been working for a while in a hostel in Italy) who wasn't a "complete arsehole". It's good to see my countrymen are doing us proud abroad.

I'm finding it a little hard to believe that, in theory, I only have nine more days of walking to go, and then I'm finished. Incredible. There's still the issue of getting across the final mountain, but we can see most of the mountains around us from here and they don't look as snowy as the one we crossed today, so I have high hopes that Tuesday will see me up and over it without any issues at all. Then it's a few more days to Santiago, three more to Finisterre, and then I'm off to Barcelona to visit Lucy and then home in time for Christmas. I love it when a plan works out.

Snow in the morning.

The legendary Iron Cross.