Day 9 - Ambasmestos

Rabanal del Camino to Ambasmestos, 76 km

Rabanal’s a good springboard to attack the mountain from. On your way over you’ll pass Cruz de Ferro, or iron cross, which marks the highest point on the trip. I got off to a bit of a late start, and it felt as if all the cyclists were on the road already once I got going. The road start with a couple of hills, but it’s mostly going up and up as you negotiate your way over the mountain. On the way I passed a couple of the cyclists that stayed with me in the lodge, one of whom was Walther. He was really struggling with his heavy bike.

At the top we all dropped the bikes and climb the big heap of rocks that’s at the foot of the tall iron cross. It’s one of the Camino’s many traditions that every pilgrim bring with a rock from his hometown, and then place it on this heap. How effective this is for your posterity is another matter, because once a year the Spanish authorities come and bulldoze the massive heap of rocks flat, otherwise it’ll get too big.

I met four retired Belgian guys at the Cruz who stayed with me the previous night in Rabanal. We had quite a nice chat last night, since I can speak Afrikaans to them. We took pictures of each other at the cross, and then I left, eager to get onto the downhill section. The four Belgians hade a nice tour plan. One guy would drive a minivan with all their gear inside and go ahead and make the night’s hotel bookings at the next designated stop. The next day one of the other four would take over from him, and so they would continue the length of the trip, rotating every day who’s going to be the driver and admin manager. Being older and retired, I think this is quite a nice system.

The downhill was long and fast. I went through Manjarin (virtually empty) and Acebo and then on to Molinaseca. Being a narrow country road, the bends can sometimes be a bit sharper than what you would think. The many ironcrosses next to the road is a testimony to people who’ve lost their lives here in motoring accidents.

Then I entered Ponferrada. It was cloudy and overcast, but I was hot and thirsty. While I had a coffee at a streetcafe, a whole commotion were happening in the street. Turns out it’s time for the yearly harvest festival. Once you crossed the mountains, you’re in Galicia, the northwestern province of Spain, right above Portugal. The scenery had completely changed. Where it was dry and yellow before, it’s now lush and green and misty.

But not only that, the culture is also proudly Celtic, as I instantly heard and saw. The school band were all dressed up in traditional Celtic clothes which reminded me of Scottish bands. Also, they played bagpipe music. The Belgians joined me, but I left a couple of minutes. Once again I struggled to find the right way out of the town. I joined a French guy who was also going in circles, and we had to ask a local to point us in the right direction.

The road to Villafranca – where I planned to stop for the day – is flat and fast, and it was an easy ride to get there around one. I stopped for a nice lunch at a café right on the centre square, and decided to go on to Vega de Valcarce. It’s still early, the climb this morning wasn’t as tough as I had expected, and it would bring me closer to the next big climb, O’Cebreiro.

I set off to Valcarce, and had a leisurely cycle in a green valley as the road (the N VI) go ever so slightly uphill. As the road follow a small river, you can all the while see the new highway way up above with it’s numerous viaducts and tunnels, cutting straight through these mountains I have to conquer tomorrow. When I reached the village I thought was Valcarce, I booked a room at a private hostel. It was actually a small house from which the owner rented rooms out. As I left the next morning, though, I would see that this was Ambasmestos, the little village just before you reach Vega de Valcarce.

But it didn’t matter. The bed was fine and the peace and quiet welcoming after the more raucous evening of before.

Time on bike: 3:59

Average speed: 19,0 km/h