Day forty six - Friday December 3

Departed: Casanova: 8:15am
Arrived: O Pedrouzo 5:15pm
Total hours: 9
Total kms: 42
Accumulated kms: 1511.8
Weather: Sunny then overcast

I think today was my fourth day in Galicia, the wettest place in Spain, without rain. Felipe spoke with someone who told him that no rain is forecast for quite a few more days, and that is so rare here as to be almost considered supernatural.

Today was a long and tough walk. The guide book said 39km but it ended up being 42 from the numbered milestones that are set up roughly every 500m or so. Each day this week has been a longer walk than expected due to the guide book's errors or getting lost, and I suppose I just really felt the miles in my feet and legs today.

Although it wasn't raining I arrived with very wet feet. As it had snowed overnight, the trees were full of frozen water. As the sun warmed them, the ice melted. Most of today's walk was through forest, so it was almost like walking through light, patchy rain all day, that strangely subsided when I got out into the open.

Tomorrow I have a beautifully short walk of just 18km to get into Santiago, where I suppose I'll spend the afternoon wandering around. Then the next day it's off to the end of the world!

I think this is the best photo I've ever taken.

Day forty five - Thursday December 2

Departed: Ferreiros 8:00am
Arrived: Casanova: 4:30pm
Total hours: 8.5
Total kms: 39
Accumulated kms: 1469.8
Weather: Snowing

My luck began as usual this morning - heavy snow fell all night then stopped literally as I left the albergue. The sun came out as I walked through a thick blanket of white, and all was right with the world.

Around 11am, however, the clouds rolled in, then snow began to fall and hasn't stopped - it's nearly 8pm now and it's still snowing. I passed through a town called Portomarin, which was completely covered in snow, and the guy who ran the panaderia said that it never snows here, and this is really rare. Kids were outside throwing snowballs at each other, and people were standing around in clumps talking about it (at least, I assume that's what they were talking about, I still don't speak enough Spanish to know - what else would you stand outside in the snow in a place it doesn't snow talking about?). It was really nice walking in the snow all day, I think I could really enjoy living somewhere lik Iceland or Russia or perhaps Antarctica. My ninja skills are really on the rise too, I haven't fallen over from slipping in days now.

Day forty four - Wednesday December 1

Departed: Triacastela 7:45am
Arrived: Ferreiros 4:00pm
Total hours: 8.25
Total kms: 34.5
Accumulated kms: 1430.8
Weather: overcast then sunny

Yesterday, near the top of the mountain, we officially crossed into the Spanish region called Galicia. This region is supposedly under the iron fist of the rain gods, and allegedly not a single day of the year goes by without it raining at least once. A woman I spoke with in Los Arcos told me when she walked the Camino through Galicia it rained hard and solidly for ten days straight. Today, we had sunshine.

I left early as I was just ready early, and had an amazing roadside walk that started in darkness, then slowly came into view as morning broke. To me the name Galicia sounds dark, mysterious, kinda comic book worldish, so it was nice to walk through looming cliffs enveloped by early fog as the darkness slipped away.

The rest of the walk reminded me a lot of France - up and down hills, along muddy forest paths beside gurgling rivers, and through tiny, deserted towns that stink of manure. By late morning the sun was well and truly shining and I was wondering what the deal was with the rain stories.

However, I was to be proven wrong. Later in the afternoon bloated black clouds came pouring in like they were late for an appointment, and less than one minute after I walked into the albergue, it started snowing heavily. This then turned to rain, but now it's quiet outside. I hope that tomorrow the weather holds up for me too.

Oh, and I should probably mention that I got lost again today. Once again though, I was following official signs all the way. I had no recourse but to declare my guide book to be the one who had no idea where the path was, and I simply enjoyed the walk that I did.

Day forty three - Tuesday November 30

Departed: Vega de Vlacarce 8:15am
Arrived: Triacastela 5:15pm
Total hours: 9
Total kms: 38
Accumulated kms: 1396.3
Weather: Snowing

Today was the hardest day yet, but the most exhilerating. It was actually, I think, the hardest day's walk I've ever done. I left Vega de Valcarce as the sun was just peeking its head over the mountains, although you could barely see it thanks to the very thick clouds that were huddled together over the town. It was snowing fairly lightly, and I was very excited as I headed toward the mountain.

Four kilometres later, as I started to climb the very steep, rocky, snow'covered and slippery path, it began to snow more heavily. I was following Felipe's footprints until I noticed he had gone the wrong way, following the cyclists' camino rather than the hikers'. Not long later we both emerged in the same town at the same time but on different paths, and in light of the heavy snow that was now falling, we decided that it might be safer to walk together for the rest of the day.

The snow eased up a little as we got to the top of the mountain and the town of O Cereibro, then really started to fall, accompanied by a strong wind. Even though we were a long way from being in a blizzard, I was enjoying pretending that I was in one.

I must confess that not long after this we got lost. Again. I don't really think it was completely our fault this time. We followed an official sign down a road that subsequently had no more official signs, nor really any real options to turn off. Granted, there may have been some yellow arrows to show us the way, but they were covered in snow if they were there. We wound down and around the mountain, quickly realising as we passed through tiny town after tiny town that we were not going the way the guide book said we should be. We kept on, however, partly because the guide book had been wrong before, and partly because we were following a set of footprints that were recent enough to have remained through the heavy snowfall, and we hoped like crazy that they had been left by a pilgrim who knew where he was going.

We wanted to stop and ask directions but saw no people at all, only angry dogs who either barked and snapped at our heels or, like the one really big German Shepard that was nearly the size of a pony, followed us close growling evily in the back of their throats. We finally found partial shelter under a church awning in a town where the dogs were a bit further away from us, and tried to figure out where we were on the map.

Felipe saw an old man come out of a house, who seemed to know we were lost. He was as angry as the dogs, and spoke way back in his throat like they did as well. He waved us off in another direction and ignored his own black dog that was sniffing hungrily at Felipe's leg and growling menacingly. Felipe, despite speaking Spanish, had trouble understanding him thanks to a local dialect he spoke in, but tried to get the gist.

It turns out we had somehow gone down the wrong mountain, and to get back on the Camino, we had to climb up another one. Perhaps because the snow on the path was now at times thick enough to almost cover our boots, this climb was even harder than our earlier one. We also found the same footprints we had been following heading up this mountain too, so it appears our guide had been as lost as we were.

Upon finally reaching the top we went into a bar for some hot chocolate and muffins. On hearing of our troubles the old woman who presumably owned the place laughed heartily and told the other patrons that we had been lost. She then told us of all the other people who had been lost in the last few weeks.

Tonight we're sharing a room with a Brazilian yogi (who told me he's been extremely lazy on the Camino - a common story) and the Spaniard whose footprints we erroneously followed. One other guy here walked down the main road as opposed to the mountain tracks. This is his thirteenth Camino. He told us that those who go by the road don't get lost, those who try to walk the path do. There's probably some twisted moral in there somewhere.

Final self portrait, just before the snow started smashing down.

Day forty two - Monday November 29

Departed: Ponferrada 8:15am
Arrived: Vega de Valcarce 4:45pm
Total hours: 8.5
Total kms: 43
Accumulated kms: 1358.3
Weather: Sunny and cold

Another beautiful walk today. Most of the way was alongside a freeway, but it was one of those futuristic type freeways on stilts, so it was kind of above me. Next to me on the right was a smaller road that not many cars drove along, and beside me on the left was a fast flowing river. The path wound around and around through the valley of some very large and closely packed mountains, and most of the day felt quite dark, despite the sun being out and the sky clear. As the trucks tore past overhead it sounded exactly like thunder, so for most of the day I got to walk with the sensation I was in the middle of a dark thunderstorm without actually getting wet. If that's not the definition of awesome, I don't know what is.

I must confess, I got lost again today. But it wasn't my fault! Once again, some enterprising bar owners have covered a side road in official looking yellow arrows in order to lure naive walkers such as myself off the true path and 2kms out of the way to their cow poke little town to go to a bar that isn't even open in winter. I even had a feeling something was amiss, but stupidly neglected to check the map. It turned out to be a nice little detour, but on a day when I was already walking 41km the extra distance was very much felt later on.

I'm right now near the bottom of the final mountain to climb, which I'm hoping to go up and over in one hit tomorrow (it's down in the guide book as a two day walk, but I'm pretty sure I can do it in one). Early tonight it began snowing outside here, and I'll be climbing another 750m or so tomorrow. Filipe and I went into a farmacia (pharmacy) to ask about the weather earlier.

Me: Do you know what the weather is like tomorrow (he spoke a little English)
Him: Oh yes - bad. Very, very bad.
Filipe (in Spanish): Can we still walk up the mountain?
Him: something in Spanish
Filipe (to me): Um yes. He says it's still possible. But the weather is very, very bad.

The snow has stopped now and it's just raining lightly. I for one have high hopes as always, that good old blind optimism of mine working out for me once again. I figure it's not as high as the mountain we crossed the other day, and the night before was snowing much more than tonight, so I think I'll have no troubles.

Speaking of troubles, we're not sure what happened to our new Canadian friend Blake who was going to keep up with us. He quit smoking yesterday, and told us he'd meet us here tonight. Problems are 1) I think today was a much longer distance than he's been walking so far and 2) It's almost certain he would also have gone the wrong way because he didn't have any kind of map whatsoever. I think he probably had enough about 10km back and stayed at one of the albergues I passed, and possibly went on the hunt for a comforting packet of cigarettes. But I hope not. He seems like a tough kid, I wouldn't be at all surprised to see him turn up here at 10pm, covered in snow and soaked through with a big grin on his face.

One other thing I thought of today. This has happened to me quite a few times, enough times to get me thinking about it. Often I've been walking along a road for close to an hour without seeing any cars traveling in either direction. Then, the road will narrow, the footpath will disappear, I'll step onto the road to keep walking and suddenly there's a tractor going one way and a bus coming the other, and all three of us come together at the same time, at the same point, in the most narrow section of road, and all of us have to slow down and manouevre about ourselves. After this, I won't see any more cars for close to an hour again. This has happened at least five or six times on the whole walk, maybe more. What does this mean? Do the lives of myself and the people in the other vehicles have some weird connection that requires us to meet in such odd circumstances? It's very strange. There might be a book in that somewhere.

The castle of Ponferrada.

Snow in the evening.

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.

Day forty - Saturday November 27

Departed: Hospital de Órbigo 8am
Arrived: Rabanal del Camino 4pm
Total hours: 8
Total kms: 37
Accumulated kms: 1282.8
Weather: Sunny and cold

Well, the big snow storm that our hospitalero promised didn't hit, and it was sun, sun, sun all day. You wouldn't know it from the temperatures, but that's what I had. There's still talk of snow for either tonight, tomorrow or Monday, but with any luck it will miss us. I'm nearly at the top of the mountain now, I think there's about another 350m to climb first thing in the morning, then right down to a low altitude, and nothing to worry about snow-wise for about another three days or so. At that time I'm supposed to walk up another mountain to a town called O Cebreiro, but I've heard that that's already under snow. Whatever, there's a cheat way around that one so no big deal if it is.

Today was a much nicer walk than I've had lately, further away from the highways and roads. A lot of it was through scrubby bush with snow capped mountains so close I could almost touch them. Well, not that close, but they looked nice.

Filipe and I walked together for the first bit, and up in the hills before we reached Astorga, we came across a big old barnhouse with a little stall set up in front. The stall was full of juice, coffee, fruit, nuts, cookies, jams and other things - all organic and offered for a small donation! The guy who runs it, David, came out to have a chat and was such an amazing guy. He left Barcelona a year and a half ago to come and do this, and has never looked back. He gets a lot of joy from offering things up to people, he also lets people sleep there for free if they need to. He looked so healthy and happy, it was a nice little injection of inspiration along the way.

This computer is set up outside at the albergue I'm staying at, and my fingers feel like they're about to snap off in the cold, so I think I'll leave it there. With more luck I'll get across the rest of the mountain without any troubles tomorrow, and the computers at the next albergue will be set up right in front of a working heater. Oh, dreams are wonderful things...

Day thirty nine - Friday November 26

Departed: León 8:15am
Arrived: Hospital de Órbigo 3:00pm
Total hours: 6.75
Total kms: 33
Accumulated kms: 1245.8
Weather: Sunny and warm

Another flat highway walk today. Nothing much of interest to report walking-wise, I put one foot in front of the other and watched the snow-covered mountains that I have to cross get bigger and bigger.

At one point I noticed a guy driving past me cross himself. I thought this was odd as I don't feel that I look particularly evil or anything. Perhaps it's time I shaved. The weirder thing was, a little later I came across two mice on the path, either fighting or mating or wrestling, I wasn´t sure which. As I came up they both started running off. One made it, the other rolled over and started kicking his little paws like a dying actor in a bad b-grade film, and died at my feet. Maybe that guy crossed himself for a reason, perhaps I have become Satan. It's not outside the realms of possibility.

What else happened today? A couple of big flat bed trucks drove past me carrying tanks and guns that were so big that even Cher would have trouble straddling one in a video clip, and possibly even more disturbing was news that heavy snow is expected in Astorga in the next few days, and that's where I'm walking through tomorrow. If it snows heavily, the police or military will stop pilgrims from walking through. I'm hoping that by the time the snow falls, I'll be through Astorga and down the other side of a large mountain and out of danger from weather or authorities. Fingers crossed my next entry has good news!

Day thirty eight - Thursday November 25

Departed: El Burgos Ranero 7:45am
Arrived: León 3:30pm
Total hours: 7.75
Total kms: 39
Accumulated kms: 1212.8
Weather: Sunny and cold

The day began with a 13km walk alongside a road. This time I refused the comforts of the iPod and decided to meditate it out, which worked out quite well. The second half of the day was more walking along roads, but punctuated by little towns, most of which refused to offer up any panenderias, but one of which happily did so and that's where I bought a couple of neopolitas (pastry with chocolate inside). These panenderia hunts are becoming a daily mission, and not always a successful one unfortunately.

So now I'm in León, a big city and I believe the last big city I hit before Santiago. I managed to find an organic food store here and stocked up on dinner products for the rest of the walk. God knows how I'm going to carry the damn things, but at least I'll be eating reasonably well.

There's no kitchen here in the albergue, and as we wandered around the city Filipe and I decided to eat in tonight, so we went to the supermarket, bought some cheese and lettuce and stuff, and will make sandwiches (or bocadillos if you prefer the Spanish). He's gone to mass and will be bringing bread (or pan) back with him as they were baking some more fresh when we stopped there. I just heard a guy asking where the kitchen was and I realised I forgot to label our food that I left in the fridge, so I should probably go and save it before he eats it. That was about it for today anyway, nothing too exciting happened!

Day thirty seven - Wednesday November 24

Departed: Ledigos 8:15am
Arrived: El Burgo Ranero 3:15pm
Total hours: 7
Total kms: 37.5
Accumulated kms: 1173.8
Weather: Sunny and warm

Today was a day of adventure. Filipe and I set off a little late, the ice-cold room we stayed in a sufficient antidote to getting up early. As usual, Filipe quickly scampered ahead. Not long after this I got to a turn in the road and could see Filipe scurrying quickly along, head down, in the wrong direction across a field. I yelled out and whistled until I was almost hoarse, but it seemed he had a lesson to learn and didn't hear me. I gave up when he slipped out of sight under a freeway, and walked on. I figured he was a smart kid and would work it out. He caught me up about an hour or so later, looking very sheepish.

A little bit later, Filipe having already motored ahead, I came to a decision between a path marked by white arrows and a graffittied "Camino Frances", and a path marked by yellow arrows and an official metallic cocquille shell sign. Yellow arrows have marked the way since Roncevalles, and I haven't seen any white arrows at all, so I followed the yellow brick road. I ended up on an alternative route that I estimate from the map took me about 3km further. It was a nicer walk though, instead of shadowing the freeway for three hours I was led through countryside that felt like Australian outback - all red dirt roads and dried, dead grass.

We thought we would be the only two in the albergue tonight, but then a group of seven came in about 7pm. Two of them were Italian and on a honeymoon - how romantic. As this albergue has speakers and an iPod connection, I played them Mike Patton's album of Italian pop songs accompanied by the Italian Symphony Orchestra. It was so nice to see their reactions to songs that don't really mean anything to me aside from sounding good. They were singing along and explaining where the songs came from and who originally sung them. Unfortunately they just left as she is feeling quite sick (not from the music, some ongoing concern), and they are moving to a hotel with heating. I am headed for the warmth of my sleeping bag yet again.

A hobbit house!