O Cebreiro to Triacastela - September 6, 2024

My first day of walking from O Cebreiro to Santiago de Compostela started early. Today my three friends, Carla, Giulia and her husband John, and I would walk 21 kilometers to our destination in Triacastela. Although I had a rough night adjusting to a six-hour time difference, my mood stayed high as I anticipated an adventure.

I met my friends at 7 AM for breakfast outside the hotel’s restaurant. The mist chilled my bones as I waited. Minutes later a middle-aged man welcomed us with a cheerful smile. Together with a woman about the same age, they served us breakfast at a rectangular wooden table already set for four. When freshly baked bread, prosciutto, cheese and café con leche arrived, Carla and Giulia declared all was well again in our universe. They had a less-than-pleasant experience during the check-in process yesterday. The food didn’t disappoint. The coffee especially, hit all the right spots for me. I remembered how much I enjoyed the café con leche--coffee with lots of whole milk--from my previous Camino in Spain two years ago. Usually North American milk curdles inside my digestive system, but here it tasted delicious without adverse effects.

It rained when we said goodbye to O Cebreiro. I was prepared with my rain poncho and several layers of clothes. “Wouldn’t it be great if we had windshield wipers for our glasses?” I said to John. He chuckled, droplets dripping down his spectacles. 

As we started our first ascend, a heavy fog blanketed the valley. The trails wound up and down often under lots of tree cover. Sometimes we would emerge at the top of a hill onto a road, and cross over to another trail which led away from the main highways.

The four of us settled into a pattern. Carla naturally walked fast and John, with his long strides, kept pace with her. Giulia and I stayed a few meters behind. The two of us were comfortable with each other’s pace, having walked together for many years. Sometimes we swapped our walking partner, but the conversations continued effortlessly.

We didn’t meet many pilgrims here although we did come across a pilgrim statue at Alto do San Roque after a hard climb. Fatigue hadn’t set in yet, but I felt he embodied my struggles against the weather that morning. Anyone standing here likely sensed a kinship with the bronze statue. The vantage point of this scenic lookout took your breath away even though at that moment, misty rain shrouded parts of the lush hills and valleys.

At the top of a particularly steep hill that ended on a road, a cafe popped up out of nowhere. Winded, wet and badly in need of a tune-up, we stepped inside. I surmised the place catered to pilgrims like us judging by the rain gears and backpacks resting on the floor. I found out later that most of the roadside cafes mainly served the Camino crowd. After having a coffee and a banana, I coaxed my feet to move again.

When I caught my first glimpse of Triacastela nestled in a valley some distance below, relief and joy surged through me. My mind soared towards the little town. I imbued it with a welcoming charm. The place got its name from three castles, long gone, but still gave it a fairytale-like quality.

Minutes later, despite Triacastela beckoning us with food and warmth, we stopped to take pictures of a tree full of character. Gnarled and twisted with age, it stood guard before an old house watching life pass while sheltering little animals in its hollows. I wondered what rodents or birds made their homes there and shivered at how dark and musty their homes must be.

We arrived at Pension Complexo Xacobeo shortly after 2 pm where our luggage waited for us in the lobby. The hotel was an oasis with its toasty fire burning in a cheerful and airy sitting room. The receptionist pointed out the boot rack next to the fireplace for drying our shoes, which we promptly used as soon as we had a chance. She led us up a flight of stairs where I saw some rooms with several bunk beds. They were occupied by young pilgrims. We continued up to the next floor above and here the receptionist showed us to our own rooms. 

Despite the dark clouds my room seemed bright with natural light from the skylight, and I discovered another skylight in the bathroom too. There was enough space to lay my travel yoga mat, and I promptly did that. I stretched for half an hour sending my achy hips and lower back to heavenly bliss.

When the four of us met later in the lobby, Carla, still full of energy, had already scouted out the area. She led us to the hotel’s restaurant a few minutes down the street. Unlike the places we visited during our Camino in 2022, this restaurant served patrons all day. That evening we ate around 6 PM, a rare luxury in these parts of Spain.

During dinner, Carla pointed out a middle-aged pilgrim, and then a younger one with whom she’d chatted while Giulia, John and I were resting. I said she had the energy of the Energizer bunny from an old TV commercial while John teased her about conversing with strangers and extracting lots of useful information.

When I finally put my head down that night, I expected to fall asleep and stay that way. Imagine my shock and horror when at midnight, the TV in my room turned itself on. I groped for the remote, turned off the TV and shut my eyes tight. After a few long breaths I calmed down, but no amount of body scanning or reverse counting brought back sleep. So I let my mind recall the day’s events and ponder over lessons learned, if any. I couldn’t imagine gaining fresh insights into my inner workings in one day on the Camino, but then I vowed to keep my mind open. If I’ve learned nothing else, I knew I had enough tenacity to continue for six more days. That was a comforting thought to sleep on. I needed that to mentally prepare for tomorrow’s walk to Sarria.