May this piece of coal that I have brought from Bar Beach and Awabakal Land in our home in Australia be a symbol of the goodwill that we bring to the people of the world.
James and I left Foncebadon on a clear, cold morning. It was a gentle 2km climb up to the Cruz de Ferro. On the way we were rewarded with views back over the vast expanse that we have traversed these last weeks.
All was still. Birdsong and the occasional cow bell were the only sounds other than the fall of our shoes on the trail. It was sublime and apt given we were about to reach the highest point on the Camino.
There were a few other pilgrims at the Cruz de Ferro, some in deep contemplation, some moving though with barely a glance, others just wanting a quick photo.
I left my piece of Newcastle coal and James left a lock of his mother’s hair and a mini skateboard.
But we still had a long day ahead of us. We still had to pass the highest point on the way, Alto Altar at 1,515m. We also had a 900m descent on steep and rough tracks. We motored on.
The views seemed to get better and better. We passed many friends, all stopping to take photos.
Then through the silence we heard engines roaring through the valley. We watched as a lot of old cars passed by, all part of the London to Lisbon Rally.
After some tricky rock hopping, we made it to Manjarin for a coffee and a snack. As we sat, yet more beautiful old cars raced by.
The little villages here are truly gorgeous. Stone buildings with verandahs over the road and slate roofs. This is so different to the eastern side of this range with the terracotta tiled roofs.
The descent went on and on. We looked for any distraction possible.
After about 5 hours of descending, we finally levelled out at Molinaseca, a gorgeous little village on a crystal clear mountain stream.
We stopped next to the river for a cold beer and some lunch with James, Leo and a host of fellow pilgrims. We couldn’t wait to take our shoes and socks off and cool our feet in the stream.
The walk into Ponferrada was next to a road. James had been unwell overnight again and was feeling weak so we went for the shortest route. After meeting Grant (USA) at the albergue, I think we made the right move.
We rest and then have dinner in the old town with James and Leo. The edge of the old town is the remains of a Knights Templar Castle. The plazas have a real vibe to them, with locals walking their dogs or children as the sun is setting. They are very peaceful places in the absence of cars and I wish Australia would look to adopt more of this as a model for urban living.
It has been an amazing day on the Camino. From the beautiful morning in Foncebadon, the Cruz de Ferró, the stunning views into the valleys, the knee jarring descent, cooling our tired feet in Molinaseca and then into Ponferrada. We are all sensing that this magic time is coming to its conclusion. We have a little more than a week until we are done. I sense a joy at our achievement as pilgrims, but also a melancholy that this strange life we have lived for over a month must end. We cling to special moments. Take more photos than we need to. Linger over a cafe con leche. Take a long time walking around the plaza before deciding on a restaurant. Greet friends we may have only met once as if we have known them our entire lives. In short, we want to wring every precious gram that we possibly can from our experience here before we jump on trains or planes and head back to our real homes.
Home is where you are is one of Uncle Pete’s sayings about me. Yes, I feel at home here. I’ve been surrounded by Camino family, from Mikael and Mads, to Karin, James, Leo, Evalina, Pete, Dazza and others. I also know my home is back with my loved ones. I don’t feel any sadness about returning to that. All is joy.
The Long Camino 