A Long Steep Walk Down The Mountain

Fernando woke us all up, as he promised  to do, at 6 am. This is pretty standard practice at parochial Albergues, up at 6 am and out the door by 7 am. Pack up, have some coffee, eat some toast, and be on your way. 

On this day it was dark. This is what I saw for part of the climb, before the sun came along.

 

It was nice though, because we got to see a beautiful sunrise on the way to Cruz de Fero, the Iron Cross.

There is a tradition on the Camino to carry something, or I suppose many things, and leave them there. I think the most common practice was to carry a rock with you as you walk the Camino and then dropping it here as a physical representation of letting go. 

The cross is at the very top of that pole. 

In the past I've carried stuff for me and others. This year I didn't carry anything. When I was at the Cruz de Fero I enjoyed watching other people climb the mountain of rocks and other stuff accumulated over the years, but I didn't feel the need. Certainly there are a multitude of things I could let go, but I just didn't think of anything pressing. I have no idea what this is about. As with most spiritual lessons, the answer will come when I least expect it and from a place I never would have looked. 

After that it was a long slog down a steep hill on slippery rocks to Molinseca. 

There is a lovely river and an old bridge in Molinseca. 

I took off my shoes and socks and soaked my feet in the icy water. Then I put my socks and shoes back on and walked 7 or 8 km to Ponferrada. In total I walked about 19 miles, but the last 5 mi seemed like 20 mi. Go figure. 

I got checked into the Albergue, took a shower, washed my clothes and went to the market for food. Then I contacted Kathy, whom I have never met in person, only on line. She is from Texas, but has lived in Ponferada the last two years. We went out for ice cream and a chat. She gave me lots of information about where things were in  case I couldn't walk tomorrow. 

When I got back to the Albergue the Italians were in the full dinner preparations. They fed a host of people and were laughing and enjoying themselves until it was time to clean up before lights out. 

There is a black man walking the Camino. I note that, because it's unusual. He's stocky and is not a sprinter. But over the past few days he would pass me or I would pass him and we would say "hola" to each other. Somehow, it got to be funny, and we started doing exagerated "holas" and laughing. There was something about his demeanor that caught my attention. So I asked where he was from, and he said Zimbabwe. Then I asked if he was a pastor, or minister, or priest. He said, "yes, all of those." He looked at me question lay, and I said, "It's the way you carry yourself." He said "Thank you." And off we walked. Some people carry the Word without ever saying anything. I just love that. I hope I continue to see him.