Author Archives: thelongcamino
Smellovision – 2 May 2022
23km across Galicia and 99% was with the smell of cattle “waste”. They are healthy beasts, but if you could have my photos with smellovision, woof!
After a good night’s rest in Sarria, we had breakfast at the local bar. It was so busy with new pilgrims frantically getting their first stamps and throwing down coffees. James and I felt like we were sloths as we quietly sat enjoying a fresh orange juice, coffee and eggs.
It really felt like the first day of school camp. Everyone was excited. They had new gear. Our favourites were the hot pink joggers. And they were ready to begin their Camino.
After a steep descent and then a wander next to a train line and under a freeway, we entered the woods and our first ascent.
I saw a tree that reminded me of Siobhan and Alice, it seemed Irish and needed to be protected.
After the last few days of steep climbs and descents and more steep climbs and descents, my calves felt like bags of ball bearings tied at each end with wire. They flop around like a dead weight. And they hurt.
Much of the way meanders through a rural landscape that reminded us of England with its dry stone walls, oaks and green paddocks.
James struggled again as his on again off again stomach bug waxed and waned. After about 6 or so kilometres, we stopped for a rest and ran into Maria, Dazza, Olaf and Marios, the 3 April Crew. Marios had some medications to help James until we got to a pharmacy.
We then entered the world of the Shire and began looking for Hobbits. We didn’t find any but we did see a long line of pilgrims stretching out ahead and behind us.
Way markers must be super cheap to make and install in Galicia as they are everywhere. You can pass one on one side of a corner and then 15 metres on there will be another one, just in case you got lost somewhere in between. The other strange thing about these way markers is that they are to the nearest metre. Yes, metre. So as you traverse that hair raising 15 metres between way markers. You can also see your progress. In hindsight, perhaps it was 16 metres.
Today marked another major milestone on our Camino, we passed the 100km to Santiago de Compostela way marker. We’re not entirely convinced that this means we have 100km to go. Galicia must be driving Mads crazy.
A little further on we ran into the 3 April Crew again and had a beer and some lunch. It has taken over four weeks, but we had the best bocadillo on the whole Camino. The bread was crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. The filling was fresh tomato, cheese, grilled chicken and pesto. It was sooooo gooood. Yes, as I’ve said before, pilgrims walk on their stomachs.
The afternoon was champagne walking. There are so many more bars and little places to stop on this part of the Camino. Someone also noted that the quality of the food had improved dramatically on this part as well.
Then Portomarin came into view.
James and I walked with Marios and Dazza, chatting about our adventures over the last month. It was great to see these guys again.
We checked into our albergue, had a shower and a rest.
For dinner we enjoy a great pizza in an Italian run restaurant. After dinner we catch up with Simone and Anthony, Regina and Paul for a glass of wine. We are all feeling a little strange about the fact that our pilgrim days will end this Friday. But we are also excited about finishing our Camino and moving on with the next adventure, our lives back home.
A Day in the Life of a Cyclogrino – 1 May 2022
James and I had just finished what many say is the steepest climb on the whole Camino. It is only short, but it’s incredibly steep. A police car even struggled up it, so much so one of the officers had to exit the vehicle and some pilgrims had to give it a push.
The climb is the entry to Alto Do Poio at 1,330 metres. There is a bar right as you exit the climb and we sat there eating a drinking and resting and watching fellow pilgrims huff and puff up the last of the climb.
I should say, that as James and I looked at it from below, he said to me, “I don’t feel like walking anymore.”
We had left O’Cebreiro at around 8:00am after a light breakfast. We were joined by James and Leo and we had a great walk in the first light of a lovely day.
The views over the valley were expansive. We walked with a lightness though our bodies were still sore after a big day yesterday.
James was still struggling though. He was tired and didn’t feel up to any climbing. he struggled up to Alto de San Roque.
From there we descended to a village for a coffee, a snack and a rest. This morning we focussed on children’s television shows that we remember from our younger days. Favourites include Mr Squiggle, Teletubbies, Yo Gabba Gabba and many others.
As I was sipping my coffee, an older Dutch gentleman approached and told me that he had been seeing me for weeks and that I was the spitting image of Dutch actor, Victor Reinier. I’ll take that.
From there we had a gentle walk before we faced an almost sheer wall of gravel, the steepest part of the Camino.
As we sat resting at the bar, we chatted with Paul from England, Glenn from the USA, our Canadian friends Rita and Chad and many others.
James noticed a sign about bike hire and suggested we ride down the mountain. Sure, I said, but you have to call. Sure enough, he got the old guy who ran the bar to help and soon enough the bikes were booked and on their way. Strange thing though, the hire company said we had to ride to Sarria. That would put us a full day ahead of the people we’d been walking with. Again I turned to James. “Let’s do it,” he said.
The bikes arrived and before we knew it, we were blasting down the mountain. Kilometres flew by in mere minutes. Did I mention it was steep. Like really steep. But it was fun.
Then when the road levelled out, we would walk as riding with our hiking packs on was a nightmare. And our seats were super hard too.
Triacastela came and went in about a minute as the road wound through the village at a reasonably steep incline. From there we had about 10km to Samos. This village is not on the main Camino and can only be visited by taking an alternate and longer route. The final descent into the village is steep and we rolled in fast. Samos is so pretty. There is a gin clear stream and the village is dominated by an enormous monastery.
Having a drink opposite the monastery
Strange thing though, there is a tiny Repsol petrol station built into the side of the monastery. I went into the albergue to get a sellos, for mine it looked a little grim.
From Samos it was about 11km to Sarria on a road that went up and down meaning some walking and some riding. In the end we walked about 17km as well as riding the 20+ kilometres on the bikes.
We were glad to leave the bikes and have a cool drink. We can already see so many freshly minted pilgrims, excited and ready to walk tomorrow. We spoke to a couple from the States who were tucking into a huge meal and some vino tinto. James and I really do feel like scruffy, dirty pilgrims as we sit amongst these clean, nicely dressed, makeup wearing peregrinó.
We book into our room for the night, have a shower and relax after a huge day. Our bums and our legs are sore after riding bikes for the first time in well over a month. Nothing a good meal, a nice wine and a good sleep won’t fix.
We enjoy Galician soup, chicken and octopus for dinner. This is followed by Santiago tart.
James heads back to our room and I decide to have my first whisky in heaven knows how long. I ask for a whisky on ice, whisky con hielo. The barman starts pouring and doesn’t stop for some goodly time. In the end I think he has poured about 8 shots.
I do my best, but there is simply no way to finish this mega whisky. As I sit, I look to the streets and see many shiny new pilgrims. They’re easy to spot as they have bright new shoes and clothes. They also don’t stagger about with muscular and/or blister pain after a month walking across Spain. As I said yesterday, James and I are excited about walking with this crew tomorrow.
James is also keen to knock over the last 100km. We’ll see how we go over the next few days.
O’Cebreiro, Hell Yeah! 30 April 2022
“Is this the last climb on the Camino?” James asks. “I’m pretty sure this is it in terms of big climbs.” I reply. “Hell yeah,” he says, “hell yeah.”
On paper it seems daunting. We climb over 1,100 metres and descend 370 metres over close to 30km. The start of the day is easy. We meander around next to a B or maybe C road for about 15km, passing through numerous well stocked villages.
It was pretty easy walking, but we always had in mind what was up ahead, just past Las Herrerías.
On the way we passed many familiar faces including Jen and Mark from the Central Coast in New South Wales. They always have smiles on their faces and it’s always great to see them. We also passed Glenn from the USA. He’s struggling with a bad ankle and has decided not to go the whole way to O’Cebreiro today.
After several hours next to a road, we turn a corner and are met with an enormous service centre. It is packed with people ordering fast food and drinks. It’s a little surreal after the peace and quiet of the small villages.
After several more kilometres on the road, we drop down into Las Herrerías. We enjoy a beer and a lunch with James and Leo at a great little local bar.
From there, it is but a few hundred metres before we start climbing steeply. Initially we are on a small road with very little shade. It is very hot as there is little to no breeze. As we turn a corner, the local horse taxi passes us by. It is 40€ to ride a horse to the summit. We all pass.
The trail then splits from the road and after a few hundred metres, the gradient increases dramatically. We all sweat as we make our way up the valley. The river that was so wide and full of water just a kilometre or so back is now a stream no more than a metre or two wide. After 15 or so minutes, we turn a corner into La Faba. We fill our water bottles and rest in the shade, safe in the knowledge that the steepest part of the climb is over.
We pass through the village of La Laguna and then we are on the final kilometre into O’Cebeiro. The views back over the valleys are amazing. We have walked the view once more.
And we leave Castilla Y León and pass into Galicia.
O’Cebreiro is a tiny old Gaelic village that dates back some time. The little church is famous for several reasons that you can read about on wikipedia. We’re hot, tired, sore and thirsty. And we need to check into our room and have a shower.
We catch up with Manny and Julian (Canadian) who we met in Hospital de Orbiga where he started his Camino, for a drink. James and I try a local specialty, a hamburger that is encased in dough. I like it. James is not so sure.
From here we have 2 more days before we hit Sarria. This is an important town as many pilgrims start here as it is just over 100km from Santiago. If they walk 100km, they can get a Compostela in Santiago. We are expecting a lot more pilgrims to be on the trail from there.
Some pilgrims who have walked from St Jean Pied de Port get a little angry with these 100km pilgrims. For me, they have all the same right as I do to be out here. I’m a little excited to walk amongst a much bigger throng. The only possible downside is accomodation.
Within the week we will arrive in Santiago. As I talk to pilgrims I have now known for some time, the talk invariably turns to the impending end. What next? Will you walk again? Are you excited about the end or do you want it to go on?
James and I talk about the very same things. We both love being here, but we have so much to live for back at home that we are also excited about getting this done and getting back to Australia.
Our perspective is very different from many other pilgrims we have met. They are at a crossroads in their life and are using the Camino to figure out where to from here. They may have quit a job or retired or been laid off. They may be recently divorced or contemplating separation. They may be recovering from a serious illness and need direction. Or lost a child. We see their struggle as the burden they often carry is much greater than the weight of their packs.
We all walk for different reasons. For now, our bodies are tired and sore after a big day on the Camino. We have less than a week of walking to go. While my mind may be very happy to return home, my body has really grown into the idea of walking 20 or 25 or 30 kilometres every day. Returning to working life, where too many hours are spent at a desk, will be hard to deal with. But that’s in the future. That will look after itself in good time. Buen Camino. Hell yeah!
Take me to the River – 29 April 2022
The forecast is for a maximum of 25 degrees, weather we have yet to experience on the Camino. It’s going to be a shorts day.
Last night James and I shared a room at Albergue Guiana with Leo and James. The albergue was either new or had been renovated during lockdown. It was most pleasant.
We breakfasted at a new cafe opposite the Templar Castle, the best cafe we have found along the whole Camino. James enjoyed fresh fruits, muesli and yoghurt. I had an English breakfast of eggs, bacon and tiny little sausages. Very yummy.
We got to see another part of Ponferrada as we were leaving.
The way follows parkland along the rio Sil, it was very pretty on this morning.
At the end of the path was a short, steep climb to give us views of the city.
From there the path passes what James and I had christened as Ponferrada Heights West, a very affluent suburb of grand houses on large, manicured blocks.
Then we passed into some farmland and under the NVI road before a long walk through strange outer suburb/hobby farms. There was very nice little paddock of wheat on not much more than a standard house block that stuck out as we passed.
We enjoy a coffee before entering a stretch of the way on a main road. This goes and and on and on. Sorry James, did you call this section “nasty”? We distract ourselves by looking at cars, rating cars, talking about dream cars, trash cars, first cars, worse cars, current cars. Cars. More cars. Yep, this section was nasty. And boring.
After what seemed an interminable walk, we cross the road and walk into a small forest. A few hundred metres later we’re crossing a freeway on a bridge and thence into the peace of vineyards.
As we descend to a small creek, we notice a guy sitting next to the way. He’s a German born Spaniard called José. He’s carving the most beautiful scallop shells from different woods. I buy James a walnut shell to give him strength on this day that he’s still feeling unwell.
We walk through more vines as the temperature continues to climb.
We stop in Cacabelos for lunch at the English run bar and albergue. The four of us share stories and laughs, it is a lovely experience to share time with James and Leo.
As we’re leaving the village, we cross a bridge. As a fisherman, I’m always keen to check the state of the waters. They are running gin clear and strong. Then I notice a movement, then a shape. Then something rises. Are those trout?
Yes they are. Though it’s hard to tell from the photo, my guess would be at least two pound, maybe three. Later that day I notice someone heading over the bridge in Villafranca. They look at the water intently as they pass.
From Cacabelos, it is a tough, hot slog next to the road for a few kilometres. The gravel is white and reflecting the heat straight into our faces. Finally the way veers away from the road into more vines.
As we slowly climb, the views over the valley get better and better.
After a very long hot day, we finally get into Villafranca at around 3:30. We thought about a cold drink in the square, but James and I just want a cool shower. Our room is across the river, some 900m across the river, so venturing back into town is off the table, especially as the Camino is right at our door.
Our room is on the 3rd floor. Do they know we have to climb to O’Cebreiro tomorrow? The climb up the stairs with my pack is insane.
James and I have a booking for tomorrow night, so we are contemplating sending our big packs forward at a cost of 10€ (worth every cent) and carrying a small daypack. We will shower, wash dirty clothes and dirty socks, have an afternoon rest, eat dinner and then decide. I think trout is on the menu tonight.
Okay, so trout was on the menu and it was delicious and I believe it was caught in the stream next to our Hostal.
Now for sleep. Our bodies are starting to feel the pain of walking almost nonstop for 4 weeks. Muscles are sore and tight. I can only imagine how we’ll feel this time tomorrow. We have close to 30km to walk with a viscous climb at the end. But that is tomorrow. Now we sleep and dream.
Cruz de Ferró – 28 April 2022
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.
Into the Mountains – 27 April 2022
We run into Karin as we leave the albergue. It’s great to see her after a few weeks. She was unwell yesterday but is otherwise doing well.
After the rain yesterday evening, it was nice to wake to clear skies over the valley. It was very cold, about 1 or 2 degrees, but we pilgrims were happy to walk into the sunshine as the morning came to life.
After a cafe con leche, we descend gently from Astorga. It would be our last descent for the day for today we climb into the mountains.
A slow, long ascent leads us through a couple of villages. Dogs stretch in the morning sun. Heather is flowering.
We catch up with Canadian friends, Rita and Chad, and walk and talk for a few kilometres. We chat to Americans. It seems a lot of pilgrims have joined at León and Astorga. The way seems busier. Karin tells us that a day or so ago 400 pilgrims arrived at Roncesvalles. It only has 300 beds. Estimates put this years pilgrim total at over 500,000. Given how many places we have visited have struggled with our small number, I can’t imagine what the Camino will be like in another month or two. We have been very lucky to experience it as we have, relatively quiet.
As the day progresses, the clouds begin to gather and the wind drops. We get hot in our gear and walk in shirts to Rabanal, about 20km from Astorga. James and I had chatted and decided that if it was raining at Rabanal, we would stay there. Instead, it is sunny and warm and we enjoy a bacon and egg sandwich at a bar. It is delicious and will power us the next 5km uphill to Foncebadon.
As we leave Rabanal it starts to rain. Just the odd drop. We look to the skies. “Not much in it,” we declare and walk on. Clouds close in, the wind picks up and the temperature drops. Was it a good idea to climb higher into the mountains today?
Then the clouds part and we walk once more in the heat of the sun. Whilst steep, it is a beautiful walk through flowering heath. And the views back over the valley are sensational.
After a shower, I head to the bar for a beer and to write this blog. As I look outside, it starts to pour rain. I feel for the pilgrims still on the trail.
As I sit in the bar, who should walk in but Evalina. We have not seen her since the day 3 walk into Pamplona. It’s always lovely to see people you lost touch with earlier in the Camino.
Dinner is in the bar downstairs. The waiter, who also seems to be the cook, takes only 2 or 3 orders at a time. James, Grant (USA) and I order. Then the waiter runs away. Some time later he returns with our dinners. Only after we are nearly finished does he take any orders from anyone else at our table, and then only from James and Leo.
Thankfully the food that the waiter cooks is quite good. James enjoys a particularly good cut of meat.
Tomorrow morning we walk to the Cruz de Ferró. Today has been a big day but the pay off is that the 5km slog we did this afternoon is done and we don’t face it first thing in the morning.
As I look out the window, the sun is gently caressing the valleys to the northwest. The sky is clear and the world is quiet and at peace.
Ascent to Rabanal
The Invention of Chocolate – 26 April 2022
Astorga, at the edge of the region of Castilla Y León, is where chocolate as we know it was said to be invented. Brought back from Mexico in the 1500’s by Spanish conquistadors, it was in this gorgeous little hill town that our love affair all started. What more motivation would a tired pilgrim need to get moving on this cold April day?
We had around 18km to Astorga and a weather forecast that suggested rain from early afternoon. We didn’t dawdle as we didn’t want to get wet today.
We talked about what it will be like returning back home after living as a pilgrim for 5 weeks. We made up rap songs. We talked about the need for some good food. James had a yearning for fresh orange juice. Than as we were talking to Quelia, a pilgrim from Portugal, we topped a rise and found a little donativo store in the middle of nowhere.
We met up with James and Leo who had walked about 38km yesterday to get from León to Hospital de Orbiga. The boys both enjoyed making their own juice.
The walk into Astorga was relatively easy from there, flat and then a descent and then more flat into town.
Arturo, our hospitalero at Albergue San Miguel had contacted the albergue in Astorga as he knew the people there. When we arrived we were shown to a private room with views over The Valley. We had beaten the rain. After a shower we found a bar and had some lunch and chatted with some other Australian’s.
We then caught up with Leo and went to the local outdoor store to get some gear for the days ahead.
Astorga really has a lovely feel. It is perched on a hill and the old town is quite small.
It feels affluent. It’s nice to see lots of different restaurant and cafe choices. Most Aussies we talk to have had some terrible food experiences on the Meseta. We look forward to dinner.
We join James and Leo for dinner at a local bar. The food is good and the Rioja tonight is the best of the journey.
We enjoy great conversation about all things Camino and life. We contemplate whether to walk to Foncebadon or not. Maybe we just decide tomorrow.
Tomorrow we head into the mountains. After 10 or so days on the relatively flat Meseta, our minds are relieved but our bodies need to adjust to walking up and down slopes. We are excited but also a little anxious about what the mountains may hold in terms of weather.
ANZAC Day – 25 April 2022
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.”
Cold, clear sky greets we weary pilgrims this ANZAC Day morning. There is peace in this little rural village in Spain. It is too cold for even the birds to sing to welcome the morning. They will wait until the sun has eased their chill.
After a cafe con leche, served boiling hot as always on these chill mornings, James and I leave the village on a straight road that will see 6.5km pass with no change in direction or altitude. We talk about whether James should study at the University in Pamplona. We also reminisce about my days at university in the late 1980’s. I mention what Alex told me yesterday, if you have a Compostela in Spain, you get preference for employment. Great, says James, I’m in.
As we walk we hear a mythical beast approaching from behind. We turn together and yell, “no, it can’t be!” But yes it is. Dazza from Wimbledon is running. He tells us he is aiming to get to Astorga today and has shipped his pack. He only has a small day pack on his back. Go you bloody good thing!
James and I recall how over 500km ago we shared our first pilgrim dinner in Roncesvalles with Dazza, Mads, Mikael, Karin and others. And then here in butt freak nowhere, he runs past us with a smile.
After crossing a road, the way follows a gravel farm track over a major canal. Somewhere in the mountains there must be a lot of dams feeding the irrigation system through this area.
The rest of the walk into Hospital de Orbiga was on road. Then we get our first view of what makes this village famous.
This is the longest Roman bridge in Spain and it’s impressive. On the left as we walk is the jousting field. Our hospitalero at San Juan Albergue tells us that every June there is a 3 day jousting festival. 20,000 people flood this little village to watch people on horses try to knock their opponents on their arse. Then they party all night (something that is now seeming all too common in Spain).
At the end of the bridge is a restaurant where we enjoy a fresh orange juice and a coffee with Dazza and several other pilgrims from the USA, Austria, Germany and Spain. The sun is shining, we have a bed for the night and don’t need to walk any further today. All is well with the world.
ANZAC Day is one of the most important days in Australia. It starts as a solemn day where we remember those who fought, supported or lost their lives in many wars. We are thankful for their sacrifice, courage and resilience. We will remember them, always. In typical Australian fashion, the day then turns to living in the moment, living in the now. We drink and play two-up. We revel in our mateship and the joy of the moment. Tomorrow can look after itself.
Tomorrow can look after itself is probably a good way to look at the Camino. You have to live in the moment. Distances can only be covered at a certain speed. Your body can only push so hard before things go wrong. We’ve seen fellow pilgrims with horrific blisters, swollen knees, ankles and feet. They hobble along with a grimace, enjoying an ibuprofen high before it passes and the serious pain returns.
The moment calls. Tune into what is around you. Bird calls. Wind in the trees. An approaching car. Adjust your pack slightly. Take your gloves off. Put them back on. Drink some water. Is that a pebble in your shoe? Why are there arrows pointing 2 different ways? Oh, one is for a bar, the other for the way. Each moment joined so elegantly. Time.
After a quiet afternoon at Albergue San Miguel, it was time to reveal my inner talent. The albergue provides paints and small canvases for pilgrims to express themselves. I’m famous for a stylish motif known simply as “guitar man”. As fellow pilgrims stood around in awe (exactly how much Rioja had I drunk?), I put brush to canvas.
For an artist, it’s hard to know when to stop, when to walk away from a piece. I think I should have done that when I was handed the blank canvas. Nevertheless I painted on.
The finished piece, I assume, will hang proudly with the other work in the albergue. Well, why wouldn’t it.
Such rich use of primary colours. Such scale. Such perspective. Such crap. Oh well, I did have an enjoyable afternoon drinking Rioja, getting paint all over my hands and clothes and painting something a kindergarten kid would be ashamed to take home to their parents. More Rioja anyone?
James and I walk the streets looking for somewhere with a kitchen open for dinner. We eventually find a bar in Puenta de Orbiga, the part of the village on the eastern side of the river.
On our return to the albergue, it was James’s time to paint.
Tune in tomorrow to see what masterpiece our young Padawan creates.
The Long Camino 