From Astorga I went up the Montes de Leon and halfway back down to a small village called Acebo. Although the uphill streches are more difficult, I think I like them better than downhills and even flat parts, because they really get the endorphins going, which puts me in a better mood. I pity the people nearby, though, because I also sweat more on the uphills, and I haven´t gotten around to washing my clothes since Carrion. The views on both sides of the mountain were beautiful and the trail was peaceful. On th trail I met an older man from Spain, and have met him several times along the road. He and I speak little, save for inquiries about sleep and weather and time and plans, but he has a paternal air about him and always lights up when he sees me. I stayed that night in a private albergue and joined two older chaps from Austria and Norway for supper. We had pleasant conversation over pretty good food. It was interesting to hear the two of them discussing Earopean politics and their views on the environmental issues. The Norwegian man took a bus from Ponferrada because he´d already done the rest and I´ve seen the Austrian guy every day since. Went to bed early and rose again wel rested for the rest of the downhill.
The next day I passed through the touristy city of Ponferrada, on the way discovering a way to make my boots feel more comfortable: take them off for a mile or so. Yes, I had a bothersome place on my left foot, so I checked with God and took my boots off for the entry into Ponferrada. It was quite painful, but after I washed my feet and put my boots back on, I felt like I was walking on a cloud. It was a very long day to Villafranca del Bierzo, but I finally made it to an albergue I was eager to stay at because of its description in the guidebook. It is run by a man and his family who have dedicated their lives to serving pilgrims and, though it was rustic and the showers were freezing, it was my favortite place to stay on the whole trip. The owner´s son was playing a very Spanish tune on his guitar while I got cleaned up, and I met a variety of people at the communal dinner. There was a cute couple from the Philipines, an African-American mother and daughter from Seattle, a couple cyclists from Brazil, and a woman from central Spain. After the delicious dinner, the son of the owner turned out the lights and the owner brought out a pastry with a candle in it for the Philipino man, who it turned out was turning 67 that day. Everyone was so nice and it was a very peaceful place to stay. That night I slept until about 3 in the morning, and woke very cold. I was already using my sleeping bag and my fleece was my pillow, and the blanket provided by the albergue was nowhere to be found. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn´t. I thought perhaps God wanted me to go ahead and leave, and He seemed to confirm the idea, so I pakced as quietly as I could and when I finished I saw my blanket lying there on the floor. Follow God and He´ll do what´s best for you. Needless to say I went straight to sleep again.
The next morning I said goodbye to the people I met the night before and ate the toast and butter and jelly provided for breakfast and was on my way. It was a steep climb to O´Cebreiro, and a chilly morning, but I made it. I bought a bit of supper at the shop (bread, apples and salami) and visited the church. There was a very profound wooden crucifix behind the altar. I went to bed early after writing a bit in my journal.
Today was all downhill, but I only went about half my usual distance (13 rather than 25). The views were very nice all aroundm, so I took my time at lunch in a pretty little rest area. Now I´m in a place with pay-internet with a very impatient American guy waiting on me. He´s using rather bad language (some referring me) to the person on the phone he´s talking to. On Sunday I will get to Santiago!
One thing worth noting is that as I near the coast I will pass many resteraunts serving pulpa (octopus), a regular part of the Galician cuisine. I know I will probably be able to avoid it if I wish, but I feel rather as though there is a large, slimy octopus eying me beadily from my future and beckoning with its tentacles. Maybe pulpa isn´t so bad...
In Him,
Hunter
Stubble Update: Manlily (adverb form on "manly") bushy on the neck and chin. My chops are actually not too bad, I realized, they just don´t show up very well because the hair is the same color as my skin. Mustache there, but still disappointing.
