Got out of bed a bit late, had a chocolate breakfast, and then it was back on the bike. The first couple of km’s to Astorga on the N120 went by easier than I anticipated, guess the slight breeze in the back helped. The scenery was not much, though. It’s industrial all the way, although the route is fairly undulating and the surface brand new tar, which make for easy riding. I managed a cool 26 km/h average at times, on the flat sections.
Astorga is a nice village perched on top of an imposing hill. To get into the old centre of town, you have to manage a couple of steep streets, but you’re treated with a beautiful church square with lots of restaurants. Unfortunately finding one which serves lunch at 12 – and have a fairly prompt service – was a bit of an effort. It took me a frustrating hour to get back on the road again.
As you cycle out of the village, the road forks a couple of times. I took the wrong turnoff once, but a little boy on a bike just cycled up to me in his BMX, and motioned I must turn around. He led me back to the turnoff, and pointed in the new direction on the LE142. Without a word spoken between us, and me never asking him directions, he helped me. And he was right about the road. I was very glad, and amazed again about the fellowship of the Camino.
At Murias me and another cyclist took pictures of one another (it’s an interesting murato village – people who used to trade in donkeys – that was abandoned but no
w completely restored). As I cycled out of the village, I took like what appeared a short cut back to the highway. It ended up as a big mistake in the sweltering heat. The road was uphill, loose gravel and hard going. I battled to get back to the highway, and soldiered on.The sun was egg-frying-on-the-bonnet stuff, and at El Ganso I had to make a pitstop first for Coke. The village and bar had a real cowboy feel, and I enjoyed the rest, even though I must’ve looked like an alien with my sweat soaked shirt and helmet hair.
As you approach Rabanal the road starts to get more hilly. This is the foothills of the mountains you have to climb the next couple of days you’re approaching. Then suddenly, around a bend, I met a strange guy with trailer attached to his bike. It was an Austrian, Walther, complete with gray socks on his sandals and an Alphorn on his trailer.
A very interesting guy, he says he’s travelling with seven music instruments and wants to play his Alphorn once he arrive in Santiago on the church square. I left him behind, relieved that I don’t have to carry all those instruments along.
The village was very small, but still I had to look for the refugio. In the end I settled for a private lodge, which had it’s own bar and kitchen. It was packed with pilgrims, and a group of four nice Belgian cyclists made some good company for the evening. Until Walther arrived and attracted us all with a swinging performance on all seven instruments. Alphorn included. It was a weird, but magical, end to the day.
Time on bike: 3:52
Average speed: 18,7 km/h
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