Cruz de Ferro

An abandoned town (founded by a 12th century hermit intent on establishing a pilgrim refuge in the mountains - not very hermit like) plus a "hippy" albergue advertised in the guide book by their vegetarian menu? How could I possibly pass this up? Walking from the beautiful town of Astorga towards the Montes of Leon and the pinnacle Cruz de Ferro, we gently ascended through the foothills and into a new world toward our destination of Foncebadon. Blue hills rolled gently on the horizon, and I felt that I could be in Montana or Wyoming. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of pine and sweet smelling dirt. Watching the sunrise behind us, the brilliant sun a shimmering sphere of tendriled orange, it is only in the hazy light of morning that we are able to look at the sun in its full glory. 

Passing through the town of Rabanal, the guidebook's destination for the evening, we walked on to our hippy albergue another 6 km on the Camino. This tiny mountain town, really just a small cluster of buildings, with a few residents of people and goats, is slowly coming back to life with the advent of modern pilgrims. The six standing buildings are dedicated to a staggering four albergues, a tienda, and a single home with an odd looking satellite dish. 

And in this little hamlet, was the single most fantastic, wonderful, "I wish I lived here" albergue, Albergue Monte Irago. 

I encountered this goat a few steps from our albergue. It walked right past me, turned around, and stuck out its tongue.

I knew I had come home when I walked through the open door and was confronted with the sound of Enya and the scent of incense. The decorations were a colorful mish-mosh of Nepalese prayer flags, photographs of monks and monk-like pilgrims, homemade gaucho pants, trinkets and tie died t-shirts. Ahhhhhh. 

Navigating a narrow steep staircase to the open attic, I encountered a giant slumber party of so many of our Camino amigos, lounging around in true pilgrim fashion. Colorful bedding adorned the mattresses, all set out on the ground (yes! no top bunk!), with skylights opened to the gentle outside breeze.

Despite my misgivings regarding the pilgrim menu of the day, I gladly handed over my nine euro in anticipation of some culinary masterpiece at 7 pm. And I was not disappointed. We were all crowded around our communal tables with heaping piles of rustic bread, slices of flavorful hard cheese, chorizo and wine, when a huge dish of paella, requiring two people to carry it, emerged from the kitchen. Shouts of hungry glee went up around the room, as heaping plates were passed around to all of the pilgrims. And for me? The vegetarian menu! A huge bowl of fresh veggie stew! 

Oh I couldn't believe my eyes! It was the most wholesome, delicious meal of the entire Camino and I had two huge servings. Falling asleep full and happy under the attic skylights, the last thing I looked at was the stars as I closed my eyes.

Muesli and soy milk!

The next morning was muesli with yogurt and thick coarse brown bread with butter and jam. Another win. Leaving this remote little paradise, it struck me as sad that I may never be here again. But the Camino is inexorable, and so we move forward. 

With hearts full of anticipation, we started the ascent towards Cruz de Ferro, a monumental point in the Camino Frances. Set at the highest point of this journey (even higher than the Pyrenees) at 1,504 meters, it marks a passage through the mountains countless pilgrims have used on their way to Santiago. It is a simple cross, set high above the landscape, towering above a giant heap of stones. These stones, thousands of them, are the collective thoughts of pilgrims who have walked under the cross' shadow. Walking past the cross is an occasion commemorated by the letting go of worry, and the gaining of blessings and peace. Tradition has it that a pilgrim brings a stone or rock from their homeland and, on the day they approach the cross, they hold the stone in their hand rubbing a worry into it. Once at the cross, they release their burden and leave the rock at the base of the cross, walking onwards lighter and more free. 

My rock/shell.

I found my rock, or rather, as Kelsey pointed out, shell on Kalalau Beach on Kauai. I am rather geologically challenged, but it is beautiful to me, in the shape of a lopsided heart, creamy white and smooth on one side and ridged pink on the other. I am not worried that it is not a stone. It is a thing of the Earth, and can collect my worry in its small perfection. 

It was a morning walk of large emotions. What do I worry away? Greed, fear, anger, hunger, war, hatred? Misunderstanding, sadness, sickness, loss? Or maybe, I thought, I should will goodness from my stone into me, leaving it empty at Cruz de Ferro. So should it be patience, kindness, love, friendship, caring, health, wonder, truth, peace? My mind was like the restless butterflies along the Camino, incapable of landing in any one spot for any time at all. I couldn't think on just a single, small worry. Nor a single goodness. It was humanness on a grand scale, just as reaching this point seemed so grand in the walk of the Way. 

A pilgrim I had never seen before approached me asking if I wanted my photo taken. When I thanked him over and over, he said "When you see me again, you will understand why you do not need to thank me for so small a favor." Not sure what that means, but it was said with kindness. 

There was something intangible coursing through the air at Cruz de Ferro. We were witness to intimate prayers of pilgrims bowing before the cross, all of us humbling ourselves through the Camino. All of the pilgrims, all the places we are from..now we are here.

My rock/shell placed among the many.

The remainder of the day was a grueling 25 km descent into the town of Ponferrada. Although a relatively large city, Ponferrada is one of the more rundown places we have walked through. Traversing the ruined old town the next morning, we could hardly see the yellow arrows of the Camino for the graffiti. Almost all of the old streets in the center of town lay silently abandoned, their stone buildings in ruins. What a marked difference from the cobblestone charm of Burgos and Leon. But our stay was restful and clean, much needed after nine hours in the sun. It was cheese and tomato sandwiches and soon after, sleep to close out the beautiful day.

Today, we walked a generous 23 km to the town of Villafranca, nestled in the wine country valley of the Montes de Leon. Our beautiful private albergue provided a fabulous kitchen for Kelsey to work her chef skills. Dining on an obscene three helpings of pasta with mushrooms and onions, it was in the name of carbo loading for the strenuous day ahead. 

We made so much food, we were able to feed other pilgrims as they passed by the kitchen. 

Tomorrow we will climb an accrued ascent of 1,200 m, with a few very steep ascents and descents to our destination of O'Cebreiro. After our 31 km day tomorrow we will have only 1 more week of walking and less than 100 miles remaining. It is falling away, and it is falling ever towards.