June 7, 2011 Foncebadón to Ponferrada

Awoke to cold Foncebadon parochial albergue chapel and hurried to get dressed in the chill air. Breakfast with Sebastian and woman from Quebec and young man from Belgium. Off to walk, mostly uphill until Cruce de Ferro.

At Cruce de Ferro watched Sebastian, Bea and others have their private, quiet time.

Long and grueling downhill to Manjarin where man kicked dog and everything smells of cat/dog piss/poop. Very disturbing scene and can’t imagine ever wanting to spend any time there, much less an overnight.

Further downhill to delightful town of El Acebo where met Daniel of U.S. on his eighth camino. Daniel had been with Danish man who died outside Estella. Told him I would connect him with family of man who died.

Onward downhill to Molinaseca and cervesa on grass near river. Continued out of town with pilgrim family as Ponferrada gradually began to appear. We all put our things in the giant, municipal albergue and went to see the Templar castle which was open but unfortunately too expensive at 6€ each. No pilgrim discount. Along with others decided to bag castle and instead went grocery shopping for dinner — my first pilgrim-cooked albergue meal. Glorious meal of spaghetti with goat cheese/vegetable sauce — three helpings. Had to shoo four women out of the men’s bathroom where they were doing their laundry. They didn’t seem to mind the idea of us showering while they washed clothes, but somehow it seemed like the women should use their own ample bathroom or the outdoor laundry sinks like everyone else. Another pilgrim party with group games under patio arbor. Bed at 22:00 in vast, basement dormitory with no windows.

June 17, 2008 Molinaseca to Villafranca del Bierzo

A crisp and chilly, but sunny morning greeted me the next day and I rolled out of bed early, hoping to cover many miles today and perhaps find my pilgrim family at Villafranca del Bierzo, 30 km in the distance.

After a couple of hours I arrived at Ponferrada, with its famous Templar castle and — an ATM! With cash in hand and a croissant from the bakery adjacent to the castle I headed on past the wineries, to Cacabelos. Growing tired with the passing hours after many days of walking long distances to find my pilgrim friends, I stumbled into Villafranca and paid for a bed in the Ave Fenix Albergue, one of the more storied hostels on the camino (partly because it has burned down three times). I walked toward the plaza and there, having a late lunch, were Trevor, Danni and Tim! After a week I’d finally found them. We shared hugs and then, over beers, many stories of our pilgrim adventures.

Late that afternoon I checked my email from home and was surprised to read this message from Gail:

Hi Sweetie,

I hope you are catching up with your comrades!

I have some important news to pass on from your mother.  After her [recent car] accident, she took some time to resume activity, and has noticed her exercise tolerance was down.  She also was experiencing some pain in her chest that she thought was the bruise on her sternum.  However, after a student suggested she be checked out, she was referred for a treadmill test today, and it sounds like the treadmill test indicates that she probably has coronary artery disease.  The doctor gave her the option of getting another type of stress test (presumably a “stress thallium” …), or being referred to a cardiologist for heart catheterization.  (The doc consulted a cardiologist after her stress test).  I spent some time tonight talking with her about the pros and cons, and right now she is thinking she probably will want to go straight to the cardiologist and have a cath, with angioplasty or stent if needed.  This sounds like a reasonable decision to me.  If
she is referred, I think she will end up having the cath sometime this week or early next.

She is otherwise doing fine:  no chest pain unless she exercises, and she has medication and strict instructions if things get worse.  She is feeling completely well, and I suggested she treat herself to comfort food tonight, and practice relaxation!  She sounds like she is in a very good mood.  We should know a lot more tomorrow, and I’ll keep you posted.  Once I know when she will be scheduled, I’ll take the time off from work and be with her that day (she gave me permission!).

I’m sorry to write with what must be nerve-wracking news…”

Needless to say, I was thunderstruck. I went back out to the plaza and shared the news with my pilgrim family, asking their advice about whether I should head back to the U.S. or stay with the camino. I realized that over the next days I would be in another remote stretch of the walk as I crossed another mountain pass. I knew that ground transportation to an airport would be difficult for at least the next four days, and that Internet access would be equally uncertain. I also knew I’d spent nearly a week trying to catch up to my friends and that if I left the camino now I’d likely never see them again.

I went back to the albergue and decided I needed some time to catch a good rest and plan for my next steps. I’d seen signs for a Parador Hotel, so I grabbed my things from Ave Fenix and checked in to the modern and spacious Villafranca del Bierzo Parador.

That night I decided to proceed with my camino. After all, Gail was there for my mom, and Gail is a physician. In the morning I walked to the plaza again and began looking for yellow arrows to begin making my way up the mountain toward O Cebreiro. I came to a yellow arrow with a branch showing the option of going left or right. As I looked down at the arrow I realized I couldn’t walk onward on the camino with my mom sick. I just couldn’t do it. I asked at a bar/cafe when the next bus back to Ponferrada was and I said goodbye to the camino, perhaps forever. Though they’d already left for the day, I wished goodbye to my friends and began the long journey back home, my goal to complete the camino unmet.

Postscript to the day: The bus from Villafranca left me at the bus station in Ponferrada, and I took a taxi to the train station. Who should be there but the delightful French/Bulgarian crew I’d met at Hospital de Orbigo. And, surprise of surprises, who should be standing there with my lost poles but my Bulgarian friend. She’d found them at the cafe where I’d left them and had adopted them as her own. I assured her they were mine, but were now a gift to her, both from the camino and from me.

I took the train from there to Madrid, then caught a flight back to Seattle. My mother’s surgery was delayed until late in July. The surgery — a stent installment — was successful and she recuperated just fine. During July it was clear to Gail that I was longing to return to Spain and finish my camino. So with all the persuasion I could muster I convinced her to join me in August so we could pick up together where I’d left off. She agreed and we made plans to return to Villafranca del Bierzo in a few week to finish Camino 2008.

June 16, 2008 Rabanál del Camino to Molinaseca

I left the Rabanal albergue, once again thankful that the hospitaleros there had allowed me to stay without any payment and hoping dearly that I would find an ATM soon.

After Rabanal it is a climb, up and up to Foncebadon. This is the town remembered in Paulo Coelho‘s book, The Pilgrimage, which years ago had inspired me to plan a future camino pilgrimage. In the book the central character fights a wild dog in an abandoned house of this mountain village. It’s easy in non-fiction Foncebadon to see how the imagination could lead a person to a story like that. Though there were no wild dogs to be seen it was clear this was a spooky and deserted village.

After Focebadon I came finally to Cruce de Ferro, a mound of stones with a tall wooden pole on which was mounted an iron cross, hence the site’s name. Here at Cruce de Ferro pilgrims leave a rock or memento of their life at home or of a sin for which they ask forgiveness. I watched as a friend from England and another from Quebec left their stones and we took turns taking photos of each other at this famous camino site.

Standing at Cruce de Ferro reminded me of the pilgrims I’d missed over the last days. I realized that Danni, Trevor and Tim now were ahead of me and I was lonely and sad as I thought of their friendship. If I could walk far enough each day I had a good chance of catching them, perhaps at Molinaseca or Ponferrada. With each turn of the trail I looked ahead, trying to see if the pilgrims in the distance were perhaps my pilgrim family.

I passed Manjardin, stopped for a break at El Acebo, and then on tired feet made the final kilometers down to the beautiful, riverside town of Molinaseca. I searched the town for an ATM, to no avail, and instead used my credit card for a cash-free stay at La Posada de Muriel, a delightful inn with fine views to the south from my pleasant and sunny room. No Trevor, Danni or Tim in town, but at least a nice room and hope of an ATM at Ponferrada the next day.