Wulf's Web-Den

Crawling out of the tent we were greeted with a majestic view of the surrounding mountains, rising above the clouds in the valleys. Here we were, fresh and clear-headed, looking forward to the start of our walk.

On top of the world

After breakfast, striking camp and loading the support van, we were ready to head out. Rather than walking en masse, we set off in small groups, and merged in with the trickling river of fellow pilgrims. It was a gentle start along good paths through a pine forest and our enthusiasm was still fresh as we stopped for a group photo next to the pilgrim statue at Alto de San Roque about 4km down the road.

Of course, as the morning drew on and the sun beat down on us, some of the glamour started to wear off. As we climbed the steep hill to the heights of Alto do Poio, we were already becoming a different set of people; by no means exhausted but certainly beginning the transformation into seasoned peregrinos (pilgrims). It was with a certain sense of relief that we descended into the cloud-mist round about Fonfrķa, nearing the meeting point for lunch.

Later that afternoon we reached the albergue at Triacastela, our destination for the night and turned our hands to what would become a familiar routine - pitch the tents, inspect our wounds, search out the toilets and showers and try to relax and recover (not always in that order).

I wasn't as enamoured with the facilities at Triacastela as I had been with O'Cebreiro. However, don't place too much weight on that feeling. Not only was Triacastela in a sheltered valley rather than perched on a spectacular mountain but it was overcast and I was pretty exhausted. Various members of the team were already suffering from small injuries; for example, Jane's toes (which had been 'talking to her' since late morning) were now being distinctly rude and she also discovered a large blister on the side of one foot even with the boots having been relatively well broken in.

Fortunately, we had opportunities to recover. I passed on the chance to play volleyball (to much distance to go to risk spraining an ankle in my ungainly sportsmanship) but did join the visit to the pilgrims mass in the local church. The priest was well prepared for his itinerant congregation with much of the order of service prepared in several languages (read by a selection of volunteers) and, after the service, he was busy arranging for a large group to sleep overnight in the church as the albergue was full. People like him play a significant part in the relaxed and supportive nature of the route and are as much its heroes as those who've trekked all the way from France and beyond.

We closed the day with a meal, shared with the team of scouts from Madrid who'd been running the sports and other activities earlier. They had a guitar and we'd borrowed one from another group, so we finished off swapping songs and then retiring to welcome sleep as darkness fell.

Experimental Tags: Mountains, Walking, Camino, Camino de Santiago, O'Cebreiro, Triacastela, Scouts, Mass