31.03
Munich
Talk about chaotic. I'll be soo happy to be on the train finally. I just hope I don't forget anything important.

The checklist:

Passport
Medical insurance
Tickets

Backpack [something light, cca. 8 liter]
Sleeping bag [strapped on the outside of the backpack]
Telescopic walking stick

Hiking boots
City shoes [should be light, confy and waterproof]
6p. hiking socks
6p. cotton socks
6 rounds of underwear[4 of each would have been enough]
[1p. of thermal underwear]
4 hankies
Pajamas
4 T-shirts, 1[2] Long-sleeved
2 warm shirts
Hooded fleece pull-over
p. of jeans + belt
p. of light cotton pants
Jacket [something wind-proof, e.g. gore-tex]
Waterproof poncho (army surplus)
Broad rimmed hat [extra waterproofing won't hurt]

Swiss army knife
Flashlight
20 clothes pegs
Tin plate and cup, knife, plastic fork and spoon
Soft plastic drinking bottle, 1l

Sugar [keep dry]
Tea
Instant soup
Dextrose tablets

Towel
Soap
Shampoo
[Shower slippers]
Electric razor/shaving kit
Nail clippers and file
Blister patches and Band-Aid
Disinfectant
Sterile cotton, bandages
Surgical tape
Sun block
Anti fungal cream (just a precaution:)
Ben-Gay for muscle pains
Sewing kit
Ear plugs, [6p.]

Camera (the disposable kind)
[Binoculars, if you have place left for them]
Diary + ball pen
Guide book
Lighter, cigarettes

[If in the end it comes to more than 15% of your body weight, start repacking. Seriously]

01.04
Paris -> Pamplona
08:40, Café Arts et Métiers
the sun just reached me on the terrace of the café, waiting for the Conservatoire to open at 10. At 15:55 I have to catch my train to Irun -> Pamplona. I leave the rest of the page for a postcard form the Conservatoire. (if you don't know why I'm here, read Umberto Eco's "The Pendulum of Foucault")
The Museum is amazing, after the restoration a few years back it is back to the way Eco describes it, but there are subtle differences. They removed the periscope.

Having lunch on the terrace of a cafe in Paris is one of the special pleasures of life; after a day in France I am reminded of the meaning of 'joie de vivre'. The German 'Lebensfreude' has a different meaning altogether.

19:94, TGV to Irun
TGV my ass! passing through some suburbs a while ago it was going so slow you could have jumped off without risking life or limb.

Night, Irun
My first Spanish meal - tortilla de patatas (potato omelette), with wine and flan (cheesecake). [it's a great meal when fresh, what they served here was half day old, judging by the rigor mortis]
Waiting for the train to Pamplona I met an Austrian woman named Elisabeth. She's also a pilgrim, and a very likeable person. She's a photographer, lived in South America for several years, speaks Spanish.

02.04
02:38, Pamplona -> Puente la Reina
With Elisabeth we arrived to the train station in Pamplona after 1AM. The policeman there told us to go into town, rather than stay there until morning. We spent two hours looking for some lodging in Pamplona but found that only the four-star hotels were open. So we settled down into one of the squares to wait for the first shops to open. The thermometer in the square was showing 14°C, later it dropped to 13. To keep our mind off the cold we talked, about our favourite books and movies, our work and what we like to do, got to know each other. By 6:30 when the first cafe opened it was like we've known each other forever.

We had breakfast, strong coffee with a shot of cognac and pastries, then we went looking for the 'Credencial del Peregrino', the Pilgrim's Passport. It is a document listing name, home address, and the town where one started the pilgrimage, and grants access to the Refugios and Albergues, places where one can usually get a shower and a bed for the night for about 5 euros after the caretaker stamps the Credencial with the seal of the place and the date. We spent several hours walking around town with our backpacks, being sent from one office to the other, tourist info, City Hall, finally arriving to the Bishop's near the old city walls. By the time we got them we were totally busted. We took the bus to Puente la Reina, arrived at noon. Shower!

"This is where all the roads to Santiago merge into one." is the inscription on the statue of the Pilgrim that guards the crossroads. The old town part of Puente la Reina is like a postcard, with twisting cobbled streets and narrow one storey stone houses. The refuge is just outside a monastery, with bunk beds and a large common room with a fireplace. We stayed up late into the night, cooked dinner, talked to the other pilgrims. There's only about ten of us here tonight, but the caretaker tells us the place will soon be full every night.

Most important item in my pack: earplugs!

03.04
Puente la Reina -> Estella, 19 km
First days walk
The guidebook says 30-something km for today. HA! It's raining, and because the woman at the Refugio told us that the roads are muddy we started out on the highway - BAD idea. Rain + wind + trucks zooming by = major suckage. At times the wind was so strong we had to brace ourselves and really lean into it just to stay on our feet (and I weigh at least 90 kilos with this backpack.) And we still got stuck in mud later on, on a footpath passing through some young cornfields. The path is a foot below the level of the fields and presents the pilgrim with a dilemma - take the path and wade through the water, or climb up into the corn and get stuck in the clay. By noon the weather finally straightened out, and we got to see some nice Spanish villages: stone-cobbled streets, stone houses, stoned teenagers.
We had a small lunch near the remains of an old stone bridge, it looks Roman but I can't be sure. At least it's sheltered from the wind and in a sunny spot.

On the last stretch I was pushing hard, the soles of my feet were shot and I wanted to get out of the boots. Lisa took her time and we separated. That evening she didn't show up in the refuge in Estella, I wonder what happened.

I saw a pilgrim with a donkey carrying his tent, brave man sleeping outside in April.

In the Refugio in Estella they have a rack for the boots in the entrance hall, as far as possible from the sleeping area:) I had my Credencial stamped and went into town shopping for dinner. In the kitchen/dining room there's a bottle of Unikum on a shelf. Nice.

04.04
Estella -> Los Arcos, 21 km
I had to leave the Refugio in some rush, they woke us at 7 and wanted us gone by 8, so I stopped in the town square to tie my shoes properly. The square is below street level, with wide stairs and ramps leading down and stone benches along the edge. It looks like a place meant for great fiestas and celebrations, with ornate house fronts on one side and old shady chestnut trees on the other.

The first two hours to Villamayor de Monjardin (yesterdays target in the book) were beautiful, but I couldn't have made them yesterday. My feet are still not used to the walking, and the shoes are new, they need time to get used to my feet. A few minutes after leaving Estella the road passes the Irache Monastery and Bodega. On the wall of the Bodega there is a fountain with two taps: water on the right and red wine on the left. Walking just got a lot easier:) The Refugio in Villamayor is run by Dutch volunteers, they're very nice people and we stayed for a half hour and had breakfast on their terrace.

The other half of today's road was rustic, but boring. Wide earth rods, endless vineyards and fields, nothing much. Today's mantra: "Pain is irrelevant"

In Los Arcos the Refugio is on the other side of town, but they offer massage for the pilgrims. I'm looking forward to it. For now I'll just have a shower. The man with the donkey arrived in the afternoon, he's spending the night with us.

There is a beautiful church I can see from the Refugio [Photo]; I'll go see it later. [Later:] There's an amazing golden altar, the pride of the community.

In the evening I listened to Mass in the church, and received the "Pilgrims Blessing". It made me feel a little of what it must have been like to be a pilgrim on the Camino during its golden age, to be on the road with a dozen strangers who become your family over the course of one day because they have the same purpose. You leave in the morning, and if you separate along the road you might never meet again, or just as well meet in the next village in the evening.

Turns out the masseur is out of town. Oh well, g'nite y'all.

05.04
Los Arcos -> Viana, 18 km
I walked in my city shoes today, the roads are smooth and I made good time, though at the end a longer stretch on the blacktop was quite painful for my soles. I walked with a small Portuguese girl named Carina most of the way. She's a student, learning to be a marine biologist. We had brunch in the main square of Torres del Rio, some cheese spread and bread we shared with a dog hanging around with us.

We walked together until I took off on a longer downhill stretch. She has problems with her knees, was coming downhill back-first, and arrived an hour after me to the Refugio. The town seems by now familiar, with worn stone streets and the narrow one-storey houses. By the side of the Refugio there's an old ruined church. It wasn't restored after the war, only the rubble was removed and the floor covered with a layer of pebbles. I collected some stones I want to turn into amulets later.

The refuge has a large vaulted common room, with wooden tables and benches, and a great ornate fireplace in the centre. Together with three other pilgrims we prepared dinner for everybody, vegetable surprise soup and scrambled eggs.

06.04, Sunday
Viana -> Ventosa, 29 km
Strange day,
we [me, Carina and a young Spaniard named Miguel] walked to Logroño [Photo, on the hill before the town where I took the picture is a little house where a lady is selling pilgrim's emblems, shells with the red sword painted on them], went through the town and made a short stop in the square by the Ayuntamiento. Coelho describes a wedding celebration in this square, I try to imagine it but at this morning hour the place has a very different feel. Then getting out of the town through the shopping area - bleah. But the park at edge of town is nice, few trees but lots of grass and neat paths, people enjoying the sunshine. Some kids were beating drums, seemed like a contest.

From the park one has to follow a bicycle road for a few kilometres, it's dusty and hard on the feet, but it ends in a grove surrounding the Embalse de la Grajera dam-lake. This is also the main picnic area of the town - it looks like the Flaucher-Steg in Munich - people sitting around, kids playing, barbecues, etc.

I wanted to sleep in Navarrete [Photo], but the Refugio (left intact since the golden age of the Camino) was closed, also the hotels. I explored the town looking for some lodging, but finding none I just sat for an hour in the sun. Eventually I had to go on to Ventosa. On the road leaving Navarrete I caught up with Tommy, a retired fireman from Glasgow whom I met before. He is carrying a tent and plans to sleep outside tonight. [Photo]

My surprise to find a very nice little Albergue in Ventosa (with washing machine), and a Brazilian keeper, Acacio da Paz (it means Peace, acaciopaz@hotmail.com), who knows Paulo Coelho (mysterious ways :) I did 28 km today, my feet are singing the Ave Maria, but it's ok, tomorrow I have only 16 to go to Azofra and the Refuge is well stocked with creams and ointments for aching feet. We sat up late talking [Photo], Acacio collects stones the pilgrims bring him, and was interested to hear our stories, where we come from and what we do, why did we decide to walk the Camino.

I still can't give a clear answer to that, more than that I needed to. I had to get away from job, TV, Internet and other distractions and sort out what I want to do with my life.

07.04
Ventosa -> Azofra, 16 km
Taking it easier today, only 15 km planned. Surprisingly this morning my feet were fine, seems like I'm getting used to walking. I'd better, because to finish with enough time to spare I have to make at least 25km in average per day, to get to Santiago on the 1st of May.

I left the Refugio at ten. After Ventosa there's a valley where pilgrims have erected little stone towers, each passing pilgrim laying one more stone on the top [Photo]. By noon I was in Nájera, a lovely little town with a noteworthy monastery. I had to find out there that the monastery is closed on Mondays. Bah. At least I sent out some postcards to friends and family.

After a nice lunch at a restaurant (the first warm lunch since I started) and a few hours of siesta I walked on to Azofra. Started to, anyway. Just outside Nájera I found such a peaceful spot in the forest that I stopped for another hour there. No loss, I got to Azofra by six, walking together with a nice Dutch couple - although 56, they had no trouble holding my pace - they did the Camino before.

The Refugio here is tiny, leaning against the church like somebody's aftertought. Despite the sunshine it is quite cold, and we went to bed early.

08.04
Azofra -> Grañon, 23 km
When I went down to the bar in Azofra to have a coffee this morning I was greeted by Lisa. She was half a day behind me until now. Nice easy walk today, even if it's 23 km. 15 were done before siesta, I stopped for some hours in Santo Domingo de la Calzada and had lunch with Lisa by the Cistercian monastery. I wanted to visit the church before leaving town but the only area open to public was a corner with a stone sarg of some king.

Grañon is a very small village, the Refugio is in the attic of the church, very nice but the tired pilgrim has to climb stairs to go up there. They also have a window in the men's room just the right height and size for the whole village to see a man's privates while he's relieving himself. Otherwise it's a lovely place, with mattresses on the floor and a fireplace in the common room. The sign above the donation bowl says "Leave what you can spare, take what you need." We had dinner with the priest, prepared by the volunteer girl taking care of the refuge and the pilgrims [Photo]. After that we all went to the church and the priest wrote all our names in a book, together with the day we expect to arrive to Santiago, then we prayed for all the pilgrims who already passed here and were still on the road.

09.04
Grañon -> Villafranca Monte de Oca, 30 km
The road from Grañon to Belorado was fine, but nothing to get up at night and write Mom about. The Refugio in Belorado is in a garage, triple beds, cold and noisy. I was told it is a temporary arrangement while they are building a new Refugio. We slept there for an hour after lunch, after that me and Lisa went on towards Tosantos. By the time we got there the fog turned to a cloud and it started raining. The Albergue in Tosantos was closed, and as we started walking to Villafranca the rain started turning to sleet. So we went back to the bar and asked for a ride - the owner took us for 10 euros and told us that he drove another two pilgrims an hour ago.

The Albergue is in a school, quite uncomfortable and there is no warm water. After a lunch of cream cheese, sausage and bread I played some chess with Oscar, a Spanish bicycle pilgrim - he beat me (I wasn't very present) but I gave him a run for his money. It's been snowing all evening, and since Belorado I have a blister on my right heel. I treated it in the traditional Pilgrim way: pulled a piece of sewing thread through it to drain the liquid and left it in overnight.

10.04
Villafranca Monte de Oca -> Atapuerca, 17 km
In the morning the weather cleared up, but it's still cold. I had breakfast in the pub waiting for sunrise, and then got on the way. I managed to lose the marked trail and ended up in someone's back yard up on the mountain, but after some shouting and scrambling through bushes I saw the bright clothes of another pilgrim and got back on the trail. Once my muscles warmed up it was okay, and my heel is not hurting too bad.

By lunchtime I got to San Juan de Ortega, and met up with Lisa. It's a quiet little village with a great pub - we had a most heartening lunch (fried eggs, sausage and haggis? something similar.)

The remaining six km to Atapuerca seemed to take forever, especially since I've been getting another blister on my left heel.

The Albergue in Atapuerca is like a barn, pleasant and friendly but cold until we made a fire. We went to have dinner at the restaurant, sample the local cuisine, and by the time we got back the others finished five bottles of wine. Tommy, the Scottish fireman, got so drunk he could barely walk, but with a little help he made it into his bed.

11.04
Atapuerca -> (Burgos) -> Tardajos, 29 km
From Atapuerca we took the bus to Burgos - it was raining furiously and very cold. In Burgos the rain stopped and we could visit the cathedral[Photo]. After that me, Lisa and Augustin, a Spaniard, walked the 13 km to Tardajos, to find a very small Albergue with a working gas boiler:)

Now it's raining again, so washing my shirt remains for tomorrow.

On the way here from Burgos I was in a black mood - yesterday we agreed with Lisa that we stay in a hotel in Burgos for a day, get comfy, relax, but when we got there she said she wants to go on "because it's a beautiful day" (6°C, gale force wind and intermittent rain). So here we are, no bath, no heating, zip - but after a hot shower I'm inclined to be more generous about her (il)logic.

12.04
Tardajos -> Hornillos del Camino, 10 km
In spite of assuring us that we can sleep late, the hostess woke us at 7:30 and had us out the door by 8. We all went to the bar for coffee and breakfast, and to wait out the rain. I was the most patient, all the others left into the rain, but I waited until 12 and was rewarded with two hours of walking without getting soaked. On the downside, the road was loosened up by trucks and sheep, so at times I was carrying several pounds of clay on my shoes.

It was a happy moment when from behind the last shoulder of the mesa I finally came upon a village [Photo].

The Albergue is by the church, no heating and I was too tired to shower - I spent the evening at the bar across the street playing chess with Tommy. After two beatings and a bottle of wine I managed to checkmate him with turret and pawns against his queen. Then Lisa played him, and won in spite of not paying attention - I had to tell her that she checkmated him, she didn't notice.

13.04
Hornillos del Camino -> Castrojeriz, 21 km
Early start, at 9 the day was clear but the roads on the first 10 km just as muddy as yesterday. When I got here I was almost exhausted from having to drag the mud on my shoes.

Five km before the village [Photo] I went ahead, and Lisa pulled another Houdini. I took a room at the "Dutch House" and after some running around and finding no trace of Lisa we others went to a pub to have dinner. Hanging on the wall they have a photo of the owner and Paulo Coelho smiling in front of the pub, and we were told that he ate at the same table where we had our dinner. They also have internet, so I got to check my mails.

During dinner I talked Carina into sharing the room with me on account of the refuge being full, but it turned out that 15 euros I have paid were for the bed, not for the room, and when she heard she changed her mind. Wasn't the best sleep I had either, the sheets were strange and I kept turning and waking up.

14.04
Castrojeriz -> Fromista, 25 km
Late start, and the first mile a nice climb up on the mesa - when I reached the top I was gasping for breath, but the sight was really worth it [Photo]. Also the slope was quite muddy despite the late hour (11).

This is the last day in Burgos province, the border is marked by the river Piserga. When I set foot on the bridge a few drops of rain came dripping. "I'll put on my poncho on the other side," I thought. Before I reached the other side it was pouring and I was soaked. Welcome to Palencia. In the next village, Itero de la Vega, I found the bar, hung my clothes out to dry, and had lunch watching some old Bud Spencer movie.

Stopping to drink at a fountain I managed to drop my guidebook into the water, now it's all curly. I arrived in the Refugio in Fromista late in the afternoon. We had some dinner in the common room with Tommy and a young Spanish couple. My kind of people, we talked for a while comparing notes about various entheogens. I got the bed above Tommy. Even so, thanks to my earplugs I managed to get a good night's sleep, and we were treated to coffee and magdalenes for breakfast.

15.04
Fromista -> Carrion de Los Condes, 20 km
I decided to walk in my city shoes today. The track was good and flat, though a bit wet at times. But after 10-15 km my soles really started protesting this treatment. I made it to Carrion, but I'll not be doing this again soon.

After I checked in at the Clarissa convent of Santa Clara, Lisa showed up. She was just ahead yesterday and just behind today. She decided to cook spaghetti for dinner. It turned out edible, little more.

The last moment we got a new roommate - in the bed below me. Turns out he snores like the A-train. Great. Despite that I managed to get some sleep, but woke up tired. The coffee helped some, and I was on the road by 10:30.

16.04
Carrion de Los Condes -> Lédigos, 24 km
Probably the longest stretch without a village, 17 km of flat, straight nothing. No house, no cars, no people except us, zip. So I did my best to turn off my brain lest it die of boredom, and did some serious walking. The whole stretch, with only one break about halfway, in about three hours.

At 14:00 sharp I was in Calzadilla de la Cueza, had a massive lunch of fish at the restaurant, and after about half an hour of dicking about I went on to Lédigos, another 7 km.

After the utter boredom of the previous stretch I got there surprisingly fast. Turns out today is Passover, so the two Israelis in our little random group will cook dinner.

The dinner was good and spicy, and between the seven of us we finished five bottles of wine. Consequently we all sang whatever we could remember from home, and talked until midnight. Caroline, Claudine and Carina are leaving for home from Sahagún tomorrow.[Photos]

17.04
Lédigos -> Sahagún, 18 km
We managed to get up at a reasonable time in the morning, then spent an hour looking for Lisa's guidebook and Credencial. Carina found them on a chair someone pushed out of sight behind a door. She starts to remind me of my mother:/

We [me and Lisa] got to Sahagún quickly (the Refugio is a rebuilt church, quite comfy, though a bit like a chicken coop [Photo]. They also had a washing machine, so I did my laundry. We met up with Caroline and Claudine for lunch and exchanged addresses. Then they went to catch the bus, and we went back to the Refuge to take a nap. When I woke up Carina had arrived. In the evening we said goodbye to her and went with Tommy to the Irish pub for some Guinness - with Tommy around we always seem to end up in a pub.

Amazingly no one snored loud enough to disturb my sleep, so I was reasonably sane in the morning. I had breakfast with Lisa at the bar of the restaurant, then she went ahead.

18.04
Sahagún -> Reliegos, 31 km
The road started uneventful and soon turned boring. Long, flat footpath by the road, a village every once in a while, and benches at every couple miles. Lisa wasn't on the road so I assume she took the train to Leon. At today's planned stop I decided to make only a siesta and go on another 13 km to the next Refugio, and be in Leon in 2 days instead of 3. So I spent the hottest hours of the day in El Burgo Ranero, then went on. Tommy was napping on another bench in the square, but stayed for the night.

Except for a light shower the last stretch was easy, my feet didn't protest too loud. In Reliegos the first thing I saw were wine cellars dug in the hillside, something new [Photo]. I had a nice hot shower (I hate gas-boilers - the water is either cool or searing hot) and now am waiting for my dinner to get hot (a can of beans I bought in Sahagun).

After dinner a quick drink at the bar, and off to bed.

19.04
Reliegos -> León, 25 km
Somebody turned on the lights at 0700 :(

So I packed up and tried the bar for a coffee. The horror - it was closed. I had to march 6 km as in a trance to the next village. In the main square of Mansilla de Las Mulas I got my coffee and had breakfast at the cafe, went on at 10.

When the path kept crossing the highway and car dealerships started to appear along the road I decided it was time to stick out my thumb. So the last 10 km into Leon took 15 minutes instead of 2 hours.

The whole town is preparing for the Easter Procession. There's a float being prepared in the courtyard of the Refugio, a great wooden platform draped with flowers that will be carried through the streets tomorrow.

I went walking through the town, and went to a cinema to escape the coming rain. The movie is "Final Destination 2", surprising how well I understand Spanish by now:)

Ah, to be young and stoned again! I found a growshop in the old town and got a share of what the girl at the register was smoking. It's just like Locarno, but it's raining torrentially and I do have to get up tomorrow, otherwise I would SO check out the clubs she suggested, especially the C.C.A.N. near Plaza Espolon. The streets around the Cathedral are called Barrio Humido, full of clubs and bars.

Well, maybe next time.

20.04
León -> Hospital de Orbigo, 36 km
As I was leaving the Refugio I met Shai and his woman. They told me Lisa arrived yesterday, and they are going to listen to Mass in the Cathedral (it's Easter Sunday today).That was my plan too, so I went and had breakfast in a cafe near the Cathedral, then went in for the Easter Mass [Photo]. It was spiritual, and made me think of what I was doing and what I wanted to do.

After Mass Lisa joined me for coffee and we planned the next days - she wanted to stay another day in town. I will take a bus to Hospital de Orbigo, then walk to Astorga, she would take the train and meet me there. So we did, and now I'm in Hospital de Orbigo - very rustic and sweet, but kind of primitive. On the walls is a timeline showing the history of Christianity, and I spend a half hour educating myself. We cook dinner together on the gas stove in the courtyard, and have a feast with the other pilgrims. Two Brazilians snoring in the room rob me of my sleep.

21.04
Hospital de Orbigo -> Astorga, 18 km
Ugh, I hate these mornings. Gotta get coffee.

I found a restaurant that opened early and got my coffee. Being the only customer I had a nice quiet chat with the owner.

The walking today was good, despite my shins hurting most of the way. Just before the edge of the last plateau there was a concrete pillar with a double sign [Photo]. Climbing up was a pointless but fun exercise, and I was rewarded with an early panorama of Astorga [Photo].

The town is really worth visiting. The Bishop's palace was designed by Gaudi, looks like something you'd expect to find in Disneyland. There's a Chocolate Museum, closed when I got there, but the many shops selling the local sweet specialties make up for it. A walk along the old city walls reveals a town split in two - old and new in stark contrast.

The main Refugio was crowded, with triple beds, all in one room, so together with an English boy (Mark Peter) we found a cheap room in a convent just off the cathedral square. It was warm, clean, and I finally had a peaceful night.

22.04
Astorga -> Rabanal del Camino, 20 km
I walked very slowly today because of my shin, did the 21 km in some 5 hours, with frequent breaks. Before Rabanal my map shows a spot that could be the waterfall mentioned in Paulo Coelho's book, but when I dumped my backpack at the fork and started walking that way it started raining. So I took a hint, my bag, and the road to Rabanal. The rain stopped as soon as I turned around.

In Rabanal the refuge of the St.James Society was full, but they directed me to another place run by a family in the village. It's very nice, with a bar [Photo] and a fireplace in the kitchen. [I bought the guidebook for the Camino Frances published by the Society, it complements the one I have nicely.]

In the afternoon while we were all sitting in the kitchen/common room it started hailing - I just hope nobody got caught out in that weather.

That night I dreamt a better version of the Schlock Mercenary plot, but towards morning I was woken several times by people banging the door and forgot most of it.

23.04
Rabanal del Camino -> Ponferrada, 31 km
The day started good, the weather was cloudy and foggy and cold but not rainy. In thickening fog we marched with Mark to Foncebadon, a half ruined ghost town. To our delight there is a bar/restaurant, and a refuge now open all year. We had a second breakfast and bought some amazing honey for the road.

We went on to Cruz de Ferro, the highest point of the road at 1504 m. After leaving a stone I brought from Viana and the mandatory [photo] we descended to Manjarin. The place is amazing, a hut with no electricity or running water, lit by candles and crammed with books and pilgrim souvenirs. The owner is a modern day Templar, who lives here taking care of the pilgrims. We sat with him for a while, had some coffee and talked. [We didn't stay for the night, but here's a link to someone who did]

After we left Manjarin my shins suddenly got worse, so after hobbling most of the way to El Acebo I hitchhiked to Molinaseca. In the Refugio there I put down my boots and rested for an hour, then walked on in the starting rain to Ponferrada.

[Every day during the pilgrimage I would send an SMS to my mother at home, usually tell her where I was and how much I walked that day.] When I turned on my phone to message home I got the bad news that my grandfather got worse, is now in a superficial coma, sometimes he wakes up but nobody can tell how much time he's got. [He had a stroke seven years ago, and despite what the doctors called an amazing recovery, his health was failing. Diabetes and sclerosis were only the beginning.] I called my mother and talked to her, then went in the town and prayed the rosary in the Sta.Maria church, tried to deal with the thought that my grandfather is dying. [My father has left us when I was three, my mother worked long hours, so it was my grandfather who would take me walking in the park or in the old town to teach me the little streets, play cards with me in the afternoons or help me with my homework.] What I regret is only that I couldn't say goodbye, but when I left we knew this might happen anytime.

Also I know he is afraid of dying, and this makes it much worse both for him and my mother and grandmother. I just hope they will manage to survive this. For the last seven years taking care of him has been the central part of their lives. I prayed for two things - that he may have an easy death, and that my mother and grandmother would survive and manage to put their lives back together.

24.04
Ponferrada -> Villafranca del Bierzo, 20 km
The walking today was uneventful, and thanks to frequent breaks my feet held out almost to the end. It started raining soon after I arrived, so exploring the town [Photo] is out of the question. The Albergue is a little scruffy, but friendly and well equipped. The beds are in the attic, and there's a washing machine. Some rooms are still under construction after a fire last year (The Albergue is called Ave Fenix:). The Jato family running the refuge is a real piece of local history.

After the homemade clam soup dinner, Jesus Jato held a little ceremony for us pilgrims: he made a concoction of alcohol, sugar, fruits steeped in alcohol and God knows what else (Queimada); after turning off the lights he set the bowl on fire (very impressive:) and intoned a little litany "burning" all the things plaguing the pilgrims; then we shared the drink, enjoying it with sight, touch, smell, taste and hearing (clinking our cups together). It was a very pleasant evening, and I had a good nights sleep even though despite Jato's request that no one stir before 7 some French people were up banging stuff around and waking people with their flashlights some time around 6.

The official wakeup was by Gregorian chants and coffee.

25.04
Villafranca del Bierzo -> O Cebreiro, 31 km
Since Jose Jato brings people's backpacks to the Cebreiro with his car for 2 euros I had an easy walk today, despite this being the steepest section of the Camino. I made only three breaks before starting the ascent, to eat and rest. The mountain path is steep, and it was raining all day, so that at times I was wading through a river of mud and cowshit. The rain soaked even through my hat, dripping down my face, but it was really worth it. Finally arrived above the clouds the land lies behind me in luscious green waves. I'm almost sorry to leave these valleys

On the shoulder overlooking the village of Cebreiro, a weathered stone sign marks the border of Galicia, the last province on the Camino, famous for its seafood and cheese. The village is very old and small, with only 20 residents, but almost as many hostels and inns. I retrieved my backpack, took a shower and went to explore the village.

Sad but hardly unexpected news. My grandfather died last night. I went to the church and lit a candle for him. [There is a very special relic in this church. Run a search for "milagro cebreiro" to read about it.]

26.04
O Cebreiro -> Sarria, 39 km
In the morning it was terribly cold, and starting to rain again. I didn't want to walk another day in that kind of weather. I was pottering around, waiting for something to happen, until at 9 I got lucky. A fellow pilgrim told me that outside the Refuge there's a guy with a van, and he's going down the mountain to Samos. I went out and talked to him, and he agreed to take me the 20 km to Triacastela, at the foot of the mountain. There I stopped for breakfast, and by 11:30 when I finished the sun was breaking out of the clouds. So I took my pack and walked to Sarria, 17 km of wonderful Galician landscape and perfect walking weather.

The refuge in Sarria is packed and loud, but I met three nice American kids, and proceeded to treat the girl (Coleen, a pretty blonde) to a pulpo dinner (spicy cooked squid bits). It was a good dinner, but I had some snacks in the afternoon and wasn't hungry enough, and Coleen found the food a little too lifelike, so we got some dark looks from the cook for eating only about half of it.

27.04
Sarria -> Gonzar, 28 km
Bad night in Sarria, not much sleep. The weather was good, and I made good progress, I got to Portomarin by 3 (The town was moved uphill when they dammed the river, one can still see some of the old houses at the bottom of the lake). The landscape is really amazing, but the road went mostly downhill - although my shin is now better it still hurts on descents.

In Portomarin I only made a short break, then went on to Gonzar. It's a very small village with a nice refuge, a little tight but there's only 10 pilgrims here tonight. Two of them turned out to be a pair of blondes from Bonn, in Spain on a student exchange. Sweet and sour, both with great bone structure. The refuge has no caretaker per se, but the guy who lives next door makes sandwiches if asked.

I'm coming down with a flu. Not good.

28.04
Gonzar -> Casanova, 22 km
It's been raining on and off most of the day. We (me, the two blondies and Stefan, another German guy) walked together to Palas do Rey, where we arrived just before a major storm erupted and we had to sit it out in a restaurant. When it got quieter the others left into the rain, I decided to wait it out. But in the end my impatience won over my intelligence and the first of the remaining 5 km I walked in cold rain and wind.

This refuge is much like the last, same kind of beds too. I spent most of the evening reading, and another miserable sniffling night, despite the medicine I bought in Palas do Rey.

29.04
Casanova -> Ribadiso de Baixo, 20 km
The four of us started out together, but I soon got impatient with their tempo (and fed up with the chatter) so I put my legs in high gear and got to Mellide almost half an hour ahead despite taking a wrong turn and having to make a sizeable detour. I bought a new camera and got the first film developed, and spent the hour I had to wait for it in a cafe overlooking a burnt out bar in a side street [Photo]. There's some operette on the tube. No accounting for taste.

Along the road I met again the three Americans, and we set a meeting in Ribadiso. We did meet there, but they decided to go on to Arzua. Their loss, I had a really great evening. We all cooked dinner together (kitchen, bathrooms, and dormitory are all separate buildings and it never stopped raining) and sat talking in the common room. A group of Spaniards with a guitar and songbooks were singing and we all joined in. They have really good voices and some really smooth moonshine.

30.04
Ribadiso de Baixo -> Lavacolla, 30 km
I started walking late in the morning, after most of the other pilgrims have left, so I walked alone most of the day, only giving myself 10 minute breaks every hour. I had breakfast in a bar in Arzua. It's still raining in fits, so I keep my poncho on most of the time. In one little village I took refuge from a sudden downpour in a woman's barn and waited out most of the rain there. Some of the Spaniards from yesterday caught up with me there and we went on together. Just before Santa Irene I stopped for lunch and a shoebreak in a bar. The lunch was great, arroz con pollo and some cooked vegetables with salted ham, but it took half hour longer than I intended thanks to the TV.

Lavacolla is the airport servicing Santiago de Compostela, for almost an hour I walked along the fence around the runways. Hunting for some lodging I finally ended up in a small hotel right near the church in Lavacolla. I can't wait to finally walk into Santiago tomorrow.

01.05
Lavacolla -> Santiago de Compostela, 10 km
I left as early as possible to give myself more time in Santiago. At the Galician Radio buildings I passed a group of people doing a different kind of pilgrimage. One man going in front with a microphone connected to a loudspeaker, the others (most of them over 50) walking in procession and following him in prayer.

Monte de Gozo is the traditional last stop before Santiago, and in the Holy Year 1999 a great center was built there to process the crowd. It looks horrible, like some olympic village, all prefab glass and plastic, nothing to do with the spirit of the Camino. The abstract monument they erected on the hilltop where one can get the first glimpse of the Santiago Cathedral [Photo] is a monstrosity of modern art. The three americans had lunch here and we met outside the cafeteria [Photo].

Finally reaching Santiago city limits I had a fellow pilgrim take my picture with the city sign in the background [Photo]. Another half hour through the streets leading to the cathedral - Santiago is a very pleasant town on its own merit, with a great university and good atmosphere. I went to the Bishop's office first and got the Compostela, a paper attesting that I walked the Camino on foot and arrived in Santiago on the first of May. I also got the last stamp on my Credencial. Nice souvenir.

I arrived at the Cathedral in time for the noon Mass [Photos]. At the entrance there is a marble pillar - it is customary for the pilgrims to put their palms on it when they arrive. There is a palm sized indentation in the stone, worn by the hands of a thousand years worth of people. Just to think about all the pilgrims who passed here before me. I visited the tomb of the apostle under the altar - an ornate silver sarcophagus behind glass - and went to confession. The Service is quite magnificent - they hang a man-sized incense burner (the Botafumeiro) from the main arch, five priests hauling on the rope until it swings from side to side through the nave.

In the evening I met up with some of the other pilgrims for a farewell dinner, in a crowded but pleasant restaurant in Plaza Cervantes.

The refuge is on the fourth floor of the Seminary, and we were warned that the doors wil be closed at nine. My cold is trying to flare up again, so it's off to bed.

02.05
Santiago de Compostela -> Barcelona -> Munich
I made arrangments for my trip home. I'll take the night train to Barcelona and from there fly back to Munich. With that taken care of, I spent the rest of the day exploring the town. It's raining in fits, but I'm used to that by now. The University Library is amazing, and there seem to be churches and souvenirs shops everywhere.

I got on the train in the afternoon, so strange to watch the landscape streak by after having walked through it for so long.

I arrived in Barcelona, and looked up a pilgrim I met on the road - he was riding a bike, but going in the opposide direction. I dropped my pack at his place and we went to see the city. The few hours I had were only enough to get the most superficial impression, but it's reminding me of Budapest somehow. Not the layout - the blocks lie in a regular chessboard pattern - but the atmosphere. We went to see the Sagrada Familia, but the line of tourists waiting to get in was so long I left it for another time and just looked at it from outside. Later we had snacks and a smoke in a park, chatting and watching the children play around us.

Eventually it was time for me to get moving to catch my flight back to Munich. We went back to the apartment, I picked up my bag and rode the subway to the airport. Once again I got turned back from the security control on account of my Swiss Army Knife, luckily the guy who checked in my luggage was kind enough to find my backpack in the pile and stuff the knife in the side pocket.

A quick flight and a long subway ride later I'm back in the apartment in Munich. Tomorrow I have to go to work.