Day 25 - Foncebadon to Ponferrada

Cathie waited more than five hours for this wonderful swim at Molinaseca.

A very hard day of three distinct stages and one delightful interlude.

Goodbye to the village of Foncebadon.

We started the day in the hillside town of Foncebadon. We were in a lovely hotel, but the flies and the stodgy food had done us in. We were rattling the door to the breakfast room at the promised time of 7pm and were soon on our way, climbing slightly to the famous Cruz de Ferro, less than 2km and not much more than 20 minutes away on an easy track.

Waving goodbye to all our cares and woes at Cruz de Ferro.

There are a couple of significant aspects to this point. The geographical aspect is that at 1505m it's the highest point on the Camino - 50m higher than the crossing of the Pyrenees. The other is that by tradition you take a stone from your home and add it to the significant pile already there, signifying that you've brought all your baggage from your pre-Camino life and left them there, leaving the summit free from everything that was bothering you before your pilgrimage. We'd stolen two stones from Cable Bay, near our home in New Zealand (despite signs telling you not to take stones from the beach) and we left them behind at the top of the pile.

Goodbye little scallop shell, who would have thought you'd travel to the other side of the world?

We'd also brought scallop shells, the emblem of the Camino, from Parapara Beach in Golden Bay (with thanks to Rosalie and Patrick, in whose cottage we stayed on that trip). I'd broken mine when my pack fell over, so I left it behind as another symbol of something cosmic, although I'm not sure what. I've since bought another scallop shell to hang on my pack.

Taking the high road.

From the summit, we knew we were in for a long descent to Molinaseca at 610m. From my journey in 2019, I knew that the next 18km included some of the most difficult surfaces we were to encounter on the whole. Unfortunately, I couldn't remember which parts. Although Cathie is a superb physical specimen in every way (for her age), she has slightly dodgy knees. You'll notice in most photos she has an elastic brace on each leg. What you don't see is the physio tape underneath (currently a fetching fluoro green). Tricky downhill sections could be her downfall and as the rough trail follows very closely the smooth tarmac of the road with almost no traffic, we chose the latter route.

A scenic view as I compose myself.

As a little interlude. Although we started this blog as a way to remember our adventure and to keep friends and family in touch, its fame seems to have spread a bit wider and we have some followers who may have done the Camino, may do it in the future, or are just Camino junkies (and there are many). So if you've just tuned in and you want to see what went before or if you want to see what's coming up, just use the address petercathiecamino.blogspot.com - that address will update daily and you can find an archive of all the previous posts. If you're totally addicted and you want to check out my 2019 blog, check out peter96camino.blogspot.com.

Pilgrims on the trail, very close to the highway.

We strode along at high speed on the highway, almost within reach of pilgrims on the trail, reaching the village of El Acebo at 11.2km and slightly less than three hours.

As is the way of foreign tourists, we love the quaint old buildings.

It was a lovely little village and we had a great rest there. Although I'm still stuck on Cafe con Leche (similar to a flat white), Cathie has moved to Cortado - a very strong shot of caffeine with a minimum of milk. We knocked them back and went on our way. 

We immediately got into the most difficult of surfaces.

Since the road and the path were diverging a little and thinking that the worst of the descent was done (we were still above 1000m - how could we have thought that?) we dropped on to the path - immediately realising the error of our ways.

There followed a most difficult path, dropping through more than 400m to our salvation at Molineseca.

The short fat guy with a designer tan cools off.

We reached the village after about 20km and more than five hours. We knew what we were in for and we absolutely loved it. Not only that, but the bar beside the river had pintxos of exactly the dimensions we craved - small pieces of soft bread laden with sardines, olives, cheese - each a nice delicious mouthful, with a decadent beer as well.

Off we go through the streets of Molineseca.

We strode off feeling at one with the world. Sadly, we still had 9km to go and it was getting hotter.

Things became a bit of a trial after that. It's a very long drag into Ponferrada.

Eventually we reached the castle, for which the town is famous.

It doesn't matter where you are - there's a great view.

With the best will in the world, we couldn't force ourselves through the final kilometre, so we stopped for a coffee. 

Spot the famous Spanish cyclist.

We made it in the end to Hostal Rio Selmo. It's nice enough, although there's always something that stops if being perfect. This has the advantage of being on the far side of the town, so we're on the way immediately tomorrow. They're mean on towels - just one bath mat and two flimsy towels, and only one flimsy plastic cup (lucky we've acquired our own cutlery and designer cups). The shower sprayed all over the floor - guess where one bathmat and one towel went?

After such a long and difficult day and a refreshing shower, we decided that supermarket salads were cheaper, healthier and more appropriate to how we felt, so I used the handy hotel wifi to download the whereabouts of the nearest supermarkets. 

I set off with high hopes. I had bags, money, but I'd left my phone behind. No problem (I thought) I can remember where those supermarkets were. The Farmacia lights were giving an option of 34 or 37 degrees and I got lost. Using my best Sherlock Holmes reasoning, I eventually accosted an innocent man with bags full of groceries and demanded to know where they came from.

All ended well. I found large bottles of water, small cans of beer, salad, bananas for Ron (later ron) and other vital supplies (a nice looking tempranillo), then against the odds found the hotel and my sleeping princess.

Time has passed. The beer is gone, so are the salads and some of the wine. It's not much after 7pm. The lightning has been flashing, the thunder crashing. Every time I see a good flash or hear a loud crash I wish I could record it. But I'll just be happy to feel the boisterous wind blowing in, with no flies and look forward to a merciful night of sleep. In total, 29km in eight hours. Old people shouldn't have to do all that.

Tomorrow is a decent 24km, but moderate in surface and terrain. Not only that, but we have our final rest day before the final 200km assault on Santiago. All's well with the world.

Here's today's Relive app: https://www.relive.cc/view/vDqgMXm1XGO

Today's photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/2MtLrj4NozEhYJ638

Today's music. I used to think this was new, but by now it's probably old - strange how life can pass you by: https://youtu.be/tHAhnJbGy9M