Breakfast at Hospital de Orbigo - My new Dutch acquaintance ;)
Mr Scarecrow
Quieter villages, farmyards then up into the hills and it’s going to be firmly uphill for the next few days until the second high point in the Mountains at 1500m or as I like to say, 4500 Feet because it sounds more extreme like that. There’s always lots of new fac
es these days and you don’t have time or inclination to meet them all, find out where they started, pass tips on foot 
care, discuss their route choices. There was a Dutch guy at Breakfast among all of the random and mostly unknown faces of the other pilgrims when I took a photo. It’s becoming more of a free for all, in fact I remember it was the leader of the too cool for school gang who arrived while we were still waiting in the restaurant in el Burgo Ranero, to discover that the Albergue was full, that was the first time I had seen that occur. I used to get to most places by the early afternoon so that wasn’t an issue for me although as I’m ramping up the k’s and averaging 25-30 a day, the number of 
hours that I’m walking is also going up towards eight.My guide advises:-
CAUTION: it is a long and hard 50+km across the mountains of Leon from Astorga to Ponferrada. The route goes up to over 1500m and as in all mountains the weather can be uncertain at any time. You may need warm clothes as well as waterproofs, even in summer. Basic food can be bought along the way (there is a food shop in Rabanal in summer) and there are bars (with meals), but not on the highest stretch between Foncebadon and El Acebo. Carry supplies for this bit, especially if the weather is bad but do not overload. It is uphill virtually all the way for over 30km and steeply downhill thereafter.
The bit about steeply downhill reminds me of the two Irish guys on bicycles I’d met briefly after breakfast in Burgos. They were starting that very day from there and soon disappeared after we chatted about the route out of the town, only for me to overtake them when they stopped after two minutes to put air in a tyre already. I was worried for them as the Camino has very rough off road tracks more suitable for mountain bikes, theirs wouldn’t have looked out of place with shopping baskets on the front, a kind of touring bike with slick road tyres. I wouldn’t want to cycle on the roads over here either, everyone drives everywhere at top speed, the small amounts of walking that I’d done on the side of the highways had taught me that much.
The path today is wonderful, loads of messages written in pebbles alongside the pebbly trail, a pilgrim scarecrow at the top of a hill wearing castoffs and pointing the way and apart from a slight downhill towards Astorga it’s clear from the horizon that the Meseta is nearly over and done with and couldn’t be soon enough for my liking, I’ve missed trees and even hills at least break up the monotony of fields as far as the eye can see.
Astorga makes you walk across the railway line again to enter, as usual lots of things being dug up or rebuilt or built from scratch. I choose to go my own way and ignore the Camino signs for once, turning immediately right and into the Town centre.
I spot the Gaudi building, it’s a bit mean to call it Disney-ish although whether it ‘goes’ next to the Cathedral, the Jury’s still out on that one. I popped into a Chocolate shop, I know! First pick and mix stores and now this, separate shops for the lottery and for tobacco in Spain but Astorga is well known historically as the Chocolate Capital of the Country.
I get some funky Orange chocolate with Almonds in it for my rations but make for the end of town and the Camino again. It isn’t that easy to follow it through Towns though so I end up trolling past a Military base and carefully take a quick snapshot of the missile mascot at the entrance, don’t wanna get accused of spying.
I’m lost, totally and utterly as usual when leaving towns. No-one around to ask so I wander, trying to use the sun and the time to navigate in the general direction. Get it wrong slightly but it’s an interesting diversion, I’m only about 45 degrees off in my calculations and I was pathetically grateful to the old woman who set me right, appearing as if by magic from a doorway behind me before I ended up miles off course. (Like the time in Leon when I was following the wrong Camino, in fact I was headed due North instead of West and headed for the Picos de Europa, I was collared by a local who pointed me in the right direction again when I knew I should have asked someone already.) There’s a fine line between enjoying exploring and getting stressed out and lost and I’m usually in the latter camp during the day, it’s much nicer to explore without 15% added to your bodyweight, in the afternoons and evenings.
I’ve got supplies to last me in case there really are no shops for a while, once bitten twice shy after the warnings about the Holy week came to nothing, shops were making a nice profit, the ones that were open anyway. Mountains are different though, it’s funny because you can get a mobile phone signal almost anywhere in Spain and the Mountains although rugged and fairly inhospitable are no exception. The difference is that more than ever you have to carry everything you’ll need here and be much more self sufficient, those people who hadn’t crossed from France into Spain over the Pyrenees might know what’s ahead from their guides or maps but they haven’t experienced anything like it so far. After what happened to the Dutch girls I’m not taking any chances.. . Dried fruit and nuts, water, energy drinks, chocolate, bread, ham, cheese and four sugar free mints from Trinidad de Arre week one that are of no value for energy but I figure in an emergency and all else fails, if I get a dry mouth at least I might be able to conjure up some saliva for those plus I’ve carried them this far I can’t bare to part with them from the very bottom of my food bags.
Leaving Astorga Past Military Base - Nice Mascot
Surprise Surprise Cathedral is being repaired
Nice Street no road I was lost at this point
Nice Graffiti - Always someone wanting Autonomy only this time with ak's
Awesome Views the higher you climb
Water is a problem today, I thought I’d be ok but it’s hot and sticky as I make my way up and up gradually through some pretty deprived looking villages, overtaking two human hares as my tortoise impression catches someone else out. They look upset to be overhauled but I’ve been practising pacing myself for weeks now. Reaching somewhere at last to fill water bottles from the fountain after a quick request of the potableness of its contents and am tempted to stop here but continue on now that I’ve got something to drink. Santa Catalina de Somoza is a Maragato Village and the people look very different round here. I choose the first place because it has the name el Caminante, ‘the Walker’ and find that going by the name works just as well as it does when picking a horse for the Grand National, it’s pot luck. The staff are pretty bolshy and seem to need a nudge although I get some tapas with my beer while I’m deciding what to do.
Washing done and hung out I pop for a siesta, it’s been a long few days and the air gets thinner and thinner from here on in. I am awoken to find another tenant has arrived an eighteen year old from Germany. She is totally unprepared, has little food is trying to skimp on accommodation, food and drink wherever possible but is wondering whether there is a tobacconist in the village. I try to explain it’s unlikely as there are only about a dozen houses here and start to worry how she’s going to cope in the next few days and try to impress upon her the importance of stocking up at the only place between here and the mountains proper in Rabanal del Camino 9k down the road. It’s been pissing down and my washing is soaked as are her socks so I manage to get the grumpy lady of the house to let us use the tumble dryer. I was planning on an evening meal here but it’s looking less likely as it’s deserted.
Go up the street and have the Pilgrim menu in the busy and much nicer looking place whose name escapes me but I wouldn’t have picked it to stay at, the tenants are all pilgrims apart from a table of locals playing cards who are just in their pub socialising while we’re all stuffing our faces. The guy behind the bar is doing everything as usual, waiter, barman, glass collector, sometimes I think they prepare all the food too. Full up and looking forward to a good nights sleep I head back only to find it’s still just me and the German girl, no-one else has fallen for el Caminante’s charms. Had I been in her situation I’m sure I would have felt slightly insecure, in a room on my own with a total stranger. There had always been either just me or masses of people in the same room before but she didn’t care so neither did I, we chatted for ages about all sorts of things including problems with her landlady and I suppose it was becoming clear that from this perspective, things at home look very different, the solutions seem obvious.
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