Day 9: Borres - Berducedo (27 Kms)

What a day!  27kms that felt like 40!

I left Borres before 9, without breakfast (but I did have a loaf of bread with me, as well as some queso manchego and jamón serrano), headed for the hospital route, the route where in days past sick pilgrims would've been taken up and over the mountain (as a short cut), rather than down through one side of the valley and later on up the far side.  Atop the mountain, 2 hospitals were located, where the caravans would've delivered the sick.

From what I'd read, the route was a tad risky, not only because of the physical rigour required to "climb" the mountain, but also because of the weather.  The reward, however was a stunning panoramic vista in all directions.  The general advise was to decide until 10am before taking the route, in case of inclement weather.  The challenge for me, however, was that to wait until 10am in order to begin a 27km walk was too much.  So I left early, even though there was thick fog all around me.  Thank God that not too long into the walk an American couple, Brian and Jenna, caught up with me, and we decided to walk together for a little stint.

 Even though we had a great theological conversation going it soon became evident that Brian was sick (how appropriate .. he was sick, and taking the hospital route!), and assuming a long day lay ahead, they wanted to speed up the pace of our walk.  I was not in a position to up my speed any more, so we parted ways.  Sad for me, I was enjoying their company...

Nevertheless, on I continued.  Not 30 minutes after they'd gone ahead, I caught up to them.  Brian, having a sick stomach, had to go "to the bathroom", and was hiding behind a shrub somewhere not too far away while Jenna was staying with their backpacks.  "I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go."  Jenna and I both laughed.

As I climbed higher and higher, it got colder and more windy, and the fog got thicker.  A few times I got a bit frightened: What if I lose my way?  What if I can't find the waymarkers?  What if I get stuck here alone?  I continued walking, unable to really see the beautiful scenery all around me.  But I did see all kinds of animals: horses, cows, even a few bulls with mega-long horns.  I also passed the hospitals, now in ruins, before peaking at Puerto del Palo, 1146 metres above sea level.

Shortly before reaching the peak, I also met a wonderful Spaniard (pictured below), Francisco from Madrid, about 15 years older than me, but much much fitter and faster.  He graciously stooped down to my level though, and slowed down to walk at my pace.  We had a very interesting conversation, about matters that I really connect with: the mundane, the insane, and the divine - life.

One thing that stuck with me about our conversation was the following quote: "The real Europe is in the small towns.  The real Spain is in the small towns.  And the towns are disappearing."  In other words, in the dramatic push towards globalization and commercialization, the real Europe is disappearing, because people are moving away from the small towns and to the big cities.  Not 30 minutes after he said this, we walked through a ghost town, Montefurado: a lovely medieval town, nestled in the mountains that at one point probably housed 50 families or so.  Now it lay there, completely abandoned, in ruins.  The church, too, closed, doors nailed shut.  Prophetic words by (I think) a wise man.

As the day wore on and the fog cleared, I decided to slow down my pace even more, and Francisco decided to go on at his faster pace.  The few hours that I walked alone atop the mountains were inspiring and spiritually enriching.  I kept thinking about the Psalmist who exclaimed "The heavens declare the glory of God."   Indeed, they do!

Late in the afternoon my energy levels vanished, and as I arrived in Lago, still 4.6kms away from Berducedo, rain clouds made their way in and opened up their mighty gates.  A short deluge followed.  As an authentic BC resident, I didn't mind, - I even enjoyed - a few drops of rain on my head, but eventually I did put on my poncho.

I arrived in Berducedo late afternoon, probably around 5pm.  Tired and exhausted, but at the same time I felt a vigour and sense of accomplishment that I will not soon forget.  I relished the physicality of today's walk.  Today was, for me, what the Camino is all about.   This is what I came for.