Dates: June 5-8, 2018
Route: Ferrol to Santiago de Compostela, Spain
Distance: 118.8 kms
Walking Days: 4
Average Distance/Day: 29.7 kms
Longest Day: 40 kms
Shortest Day: 19.8 kms
Ferrol to Pontedeume – 29.0 km
I stayed at the Hotel America last night. It’s the first night in a month I’ve had my own room, with my own shower, and not slept in an albergue. It was a bit of a schmozzle when I arrived in Ferrol. Both of the hostels/albergues listed in my guidebook no longer exist, and when I went online to find the only other hostel in town, it too was closed. Either that, or the entrance was so cleverly disguised that I missed it.
I’m glad I did though, or I would have missed meeting Julio, the owner of the hotel. He spent many years in the United States, where he owned a used car dealership in Washington D.C. He and his wife decided to move back to Spain so that their children would know the world of their heritage. Julio and I hung out at his bar, lamenting the loss of our soccer youth over a couple of beers. What a great host!
It rained all day, making what would have been excellent hiking trails a mess of puddles and mud. The incessant rain was maddening. Not only was I fully soaked after an hour (Goretex is not the least bit protective in heavy rain), I couldn’t take photographs without taking great pains to wipe the wet and foggy lens, and it was impossible to manipulate the map on my wet phone with wet fingers (I know…typical hiking problems).
I took a wrong turn, accidentally following the arrows to the albergue de peregrinos in Neda, where I was welcomed by three pilgrims who were enjoying sanctuary from the rain. There was a couple from Portugal and a young German woman named Cheara, who is finishing off her university degree in Valencia. Cheara was not having a good time on the Camino and was struggling trying to understand the whole pilgrimage thing. After a long rest, we braved the rain again, but despite having wrung out my socks at the albergue, within minutes, I could hear that familiar squishing sound of saturated socks against my shoes.
I saw a handful of other pilgrims walking in the rain. We shared some buen Caminos, but few were smiling. The rain was hurting everyone’s morale.
I’m in Pontedeume, built between a couple of hills along the River Eume. I had to cross the 14th-century Pontedeume Bridge to get here. At one time, it had 116 arches and a chapel, but now I count only 25 arches remaining.
Pontedeume to Presedo – 30.0 km
It’s another wet day, although the rain fell like a fine mist, so it never fully saturated my socks. For the first time in a few days, I ended my walk without my feet turning into prunes.
I caught up to an Englishman from Cambridge named Jasper. He’s young, married, and completed the Camino Frances six years ago with his college buddies. Back home, Jasper manages a pharmacy, which he refers to as a chemist, and his wife, who is a competitive karate athlete, cares for high-needs children. They dream of living and working abroad, but they’re not sure how, since neither of them speaks any languages other than English. Their biggest challenge is in making life decisions that would balance work, travel, the possibility of children, and the desire to eventually own a home. That is to say, their challenges are similar to those of other young couples.
The walk today reminded me of my time recently on the Camino del Norte – lots of hills, a nice combination of hiking paths and town roads, inevitable rain, and, of course, my seemingly endless ability to take a wrong turn on a well-marked trail. For the latter, a friendly local walked me back the 500 meters to where I had missed the turn, shook my hand, and said, “God bless.” What a fabulous trail angel.
My albergue today holds 16 people and more than half of the beds are filled by a friendly group of Portuguese pilgrims. One woman was limping, so I asked her about it. She showed me a rash on her foot that she thinks is an allergic reaction to a cream she had applied. I offered her some of the baby cream that I used for a rash on my leg, but she refused, fearing an even worse reaction. I brought her some German chocolate that I said would magically clear up her rash. She laughed. Suddenly, everyone was pulling out chocolate and crackers from their packs and we had an impromptu picnic in the albergue’s tiny kitchen.
The Portuguese folks invited me to join them in town for dinner, but I’ve waited four days to find an albergue at which I could boil water for the Pasta Pot I’ve been carrying around, and since the boiling water had already been poured, I passed on the invitation.
Presedo to Sigueiro – 40.0 km
The English Way, or the Camino Ingles, dates back to 1147 when a squadron of English, German, and Flemish Crusaders landed on the shores of northern Galicia, visiting the tomb of Saint James before traveling to Lisbon to help the new King of Portugal in his fight against Islam. Later, pilgrims from Scandinavia, England, Scotland, and Ireland came by boat to the ports north of Santiago to walk to see the saint’s remains.
Today, the official routes begin in the port cities of A Coruna (74.8 kms) and Ferrol (118.4 kms), with most pilgrims starting in Ferrol because of the need to walk at least 100 kms in order to earn the compostela (pilgrim’s certificate).
The English Way was supported by a network of hospitals of the Cluny and Cistercian order. The current albergue in Bruma, where the A Coruna and Ferrol routes merge, is located in one of these medieval pilgrim hospitals.
The English Way was well used until the 16th century, when the flood of pilgrims diminished significantly as the religious climate changed, with the Catholic Church losing power as Luther’s ideas gained favour. In addition, borders began to close because of war, and criminals regularly attacked pilgrims on the route.
The English Way was revitalized in the latter half of the 1900s as many of the Santiago pilgrimages in France and Spain took on new life.
I was thinking about the history of the English Way as I walked in the rain for the fifth straight day, sliding on muddy paths, watching the water squirt up through my sandals from my sodden socks. Seeing oneself as walking in the footsteps of history helps with motivation in inclement weather.
I admit, I was pretty excited when I arrived in the tiny village of Bruma to see the medieval pilgrim hospital. I was surprised at how small it is compared to the modern extension that has been built to accommodate modern pilgrims. Still, you could probably have housed a dozen pilgrims in the original structure, although it would have been quite cozy. I touched the old stone of the pilgrim hospital as a token of the kindred spirit I share with those pilgrims long ago.
I stopped at the Bar Novo in A Rua. It was my only break today. I wasn’t in a particularly good mood when I arrived because of the weather, but a cheery buen Camino from a small group of Spanish pilgrims cheered me up. I shook the water off my jacket and ordered my usual cafe con leche, bicadillo francesa, and a chocolate pastry. While I was eating, more small groups of Spanish pilgrims arrived in the rain, all smiles, laughing, and joking among themselves. Their joy was infectious and I found I was truly happy to be there. I was on the Camino in Spain, after all!
When I arrived at the Albergue Camino Real in Sigueiro, the proprietor asked me where I had started today.
“Presedo,” I said.
“Presedo?! My God man, that’s 40 kilometers away and it’s only two o’clock!”
And then after he recorded the information from my passport to check me in, he looked at my birth date and said, “And you’re 55 years old! Wow!”
Haha, that fellow is good for my confidence.
The one positive aspect of walking the Camino is that no matter how bad the weather is, there is always a warm bed at an albergue at the end of the day. At my albergue, the proprietor washed, dried, and folded my laundry for five Euros, so I’ll be able to start the day tomorrow comfortable and dry.
Only 16.5 kilometers remaining to walk to Santiago if you trust the official Galician stone markers along the route, or 20.8 kilometers if you trust the English guidebook. Either way, tomorrow will be my shortest day yet.
Sigueiro to Santiago de Compostela Cathedral – 19.8 km
Since I had such a short distance to walk today, I had visions of sleeping in late until 8:00, enjoying a leisurely breakfast, and sauntering into Santiago in the afternoon, after stopping at a cafe or two en route. But, as usual, I was awake before 6:00, feeling well rested, and eager to get into my hiking sandals and start walking.
That is why I arrived in Santiago before 10:30. But I didn’t go straight away to the Cathedral like I usually do. Instead, I took a detour down a side street to a bakery my friends and I had discovered on our last visit. It seems the bakery is quite popular because I stepped into a queue of ten people and spent my time in line praying that there would still be one cream-filled chocolate eclair left when I reached the counter. And as Santiago is the city of miracles, there was one left when it was my turn, so I bought it, while surreptitiously looking back down the line to see if anyone looked disappointed. No one looked at me in anger, so I was able to enjoy my pastry guilt free.
The walking today was lovely, with several sections of quiet forest paths. It was overcast and, although rain is in the forecast, I managed to beat it to Santiago. In fact, just as I was entering the final street leading into the Cathedral, my cream-filled pastry in hand, the sun broke through the clouds for the very first time on my Camino Ingles adventure.
Hallelujah!
I ate my pastry in the Cathedral courtyard, enjoying the feel of the sun’s rays on my skin, watching the masses of tourists receive information from their guides, and smiling at the pilgrims celebrating the end of their journey. Like me, most of the people looked confused as to how to properly put on sunglasses, as if we had all forgotten how to do it.
The city is very busy today, although I’m not sure why. It seems that quite a few pilgrims are finishing on the same day. The albergue I usually go to was fully booked before noon, and the place in which I eventually found a bed, the Roots Boots Hostel, began turning people away at 1:00 pm. I can only imagine how difficult it would be to get an albergue bed in the middle of summer when most people do their pilgrimages.
This is the end of the Camino Ingles for me. The English guidebook, the Galician stone way markers, and the tourist office all provide differing distances for this Camino, but I would say I’ve walked about 117 kilometers, give or take a couple.
The Camino Ingles isn’t the most exciting Camino with regard to stunning views and interesting history, but I still found it quite satisfying. The route is well marked, at least until you enter Santiago, where it seems the route-marking crew decided to go for coffee. But it’s easy to find the Cathedral from anywhere in the city. Myself, I just follow other pilgrims who are holding their phones out in front of them, reading their Camino maps.
I’ll relax for the rest of today, maybe take in a museum or wander around town, and then head to Leon by bus in the morning to begin a new Camino. The Camino San Salvador.
