Day 65 / Astorga-Molinaseca / 46.03 km

Yesterday evening I had dinner with David, a British roommate. Besides drinking probably to much wine we had some interesting discussions on Europe and Brexit. We arrived 20 minutes before the doors of the hostal would close for the night. I feared somewhat a headache from the wine in the morning but strangely my head was ok. The only problem, again, was that I had to notice my head was headache free at 5 in the morning. In the room above me people started making noice at 5. One of the 4 people in the room I was sleeping started to make noise 15 minutes later. This time I imagined I sliced the guy’s throat with samurai sword. Another 15 minutes later another guy in the room joined. Luckily for them I did not had a hangover or I would have really had killed them. Around 6.15 I got out of bed as well. After breakfast I left town. The streets are lined with other pilgrims and the exit becomes a sort of procession.

The first kilometres is along a road and I fear the day will become another road running day. Luckily I leave the road after some kilometres. My right feet complains, some other muscles as well. Running does not go easy this morning. Today I will have climb to 1500 meters, since I left Astorga the road climbs, slowly but steadily. 

I pass a couple of small villages, which are all nice. The Camino starts more and more to climb. Often it get’s to steep to run which I don’t mind as my right foot complains less when not running. 

The next hour the path goes up. The scenery is splendid, the Camino a small rocky path. Not a lot of pilgrims as well. Perfect. It was a long wait but finally the landscape is as I hoped it would be. At 1400 meters I arrive at a small village, more a hamlet, called Foncebadón. I have covered 30 k, it’s time for a cheese sandwich an a drink. Small groups of taxi-pilgrims passing by doing the last 2 km from a bus to the Cruz de Ferro. After my stop I climb the last 100 meter. The views are great, comparable to the ones I saw when climbing Saint Jean Pied de Port. I really like the mountains. 

On my way I pass a group of German/Austrian taxi-pilgrims. When I’m taking a picture a young woman offers to take a picture of the landscape with me. She explains the group is doing the Camino in 2 weeks, sometimes they are released from the bus to walk some kilometres. Mainly on the most beautiful places. The rest of the time they cover by bus. After they reach the Cruz de Ferro they will go by bus to Ponteferada. After she ask, I explain I’m running from Belgium to Compostela, which is enough for her to organise a group photo with all the other taxi-pilgrims other group. Compostela stardom. 

I leave my 1 minute of fame and head to the Cruz de Ferro. On blogs I had always the impression it was placed on some remote location. In reality it’s located just next a road, there is a big parking with busses fuming, people are queuing to get their picture taken. I join the tourist frenzy and ask someone to take my picture as well.

The tradition is for pilgrims to leave a rock (which you brought from home) nearby the cross as a symbol to find closure on a personal topic. As I don’t have anything for which I need closure today I didn’t bring a rock. There are a lot of rocks and messages.

After another 2 k the Camino starts to descent in the direction of Ponferrada. I plan to run until I don’t want to run anymore. The descent is as I hoped for a small path, lot of rocks, fast and beautiful views. I pass 2 beautiful small villages. One is full of pilgrims and day tourists, the other is even more beautiful but lacks any tourists. I run like a goat, I am a goat running the trail downwards. Sometimes I pass pilgrims but a lot of the time I’m alone. It’s a great run. I definitely will do more trail running when back home. Strangely my right feet does not complain. Probably it will complain extra tomorrow morning.

I’m close to Ponteferrada but just before I enter the beautiful village Molinaseca, an old bridge, a lot of restaurants and bars near to a small river, small streets, the smell of food. When I enter the village I see a hostal with rooms for rent. The have a room with bath available overlooking a small street for 30 €. A no brainer. I put my gear in the room and go to a bar for a well deserved drink. At the bar I meet John, Australian, who is a real Camino addict. He is busy with his 4th Camino in a row, he even has a Buen Camino tattoo on his wrist. When I’m asking why he likes the Camino so much he answers that it’s easy to make friends, meet people and that he loves Spain. Good for him. He seems to know every pilgrim who arrives in the village, even explains to me the social relation between pilgrims. It’s the first time I notice that there is a extensive, temporary, social network created between the pilgrims. I sometimes see and talk to some “known faces” but not to the extend I would be interested on how that person relates to other pilgrims. I think the Camino would be a good study subject for a sociologist. 

Lessons learned : 

- Sometimes a good run just happens.

- I’m happy. I don’t need closure. 

- The Camino is a village. I’m a tourist visiting the village.

Song of today : Theme for great cities - Simple Minds

All Blog Solution