Via Podiensis: El Bierzo

15 October 2023 Thom Pilgrim Reports, Via Podiensis

Last night I caught the Vigil Mass at the Basilica, and afterwards Tara, the sisters Ava and Marty, and I went out for dinner. It was a lovely conversation with friends old and new.

Today I walked through the beautiful valley of El Bierzo. I began in Ponferrada, its modern capital city, and ended in Villafranca del Bierzo, its medieval capital.

After my traditional breakfast, I headed out the door at about 7:10 AM. It was chilly! The city at this time in the morning is quiet, with only the street sweepers and pilgrims outside. I found it difficult to find the trail markings at first.

I ran into Tara as I was leaving town, and we walked together for most of the day. The Camino led us through urban Ponferrada and along the river. Urban eventually became suburban, and at one point the Camino actually went through a passageway in a building.

We passed through the village/suburb of Compostilla, with its (locked) church with modern paintings on the walls in the style of medieval frescoes.

We continued walking through the suburban streets, but by 8 AM, this had changed to industrial on one side and a big empty field on the other. Five minutes later, we turned off the main road into rural Spain.

We arrived in the village of Columbrianos at about 8:10 AM. The church, of course, was locked. There were some lovely rose bushes growing out front, though. Sometimes you just have to stop and smell them.

The second church in town was also locked. After this, it was a roadwalking on asphalt through rural terrain with small farms and small herds, really more like families, of cows.

The sky was overcast, and the air was cool but humid.

At about 8:45 we entered the village of Fuentes Nuevos. Here we passed a tiny little hermitage in the middle of an intersection. Sadly, it was locked.

What wasn’t locked though, was the parish church dedicated to Our Lady of the Assumption. The interior walls were rough, unfinished stone, but the altars were an explosion of Baroque, and not in the monochrome gold that I’ve seen so much of, but a riot of complementary colours and shades. A beautiful, beautiful space. I prayed here for the intentions of the Camino, and I would’ve liked to have stayed longer.

We arrived in Camponaraya at about quarter after nine, very ready for second breakfast. Fed and caffeinated, just twenty minutes later we were back walking through urban streets.

We stopped in the parish church of San Ildefonso. This is very much a 20th century construction of red brick. The interior would not have been out of place at any suburban American church built in the 1950s or 60s. I prayed here for the intentions of the Camino before we continued on.

Just after the church, we walked through this amazing roundabout on a bridge over the river, with a clock tower. Wild.

Then it was more urban and suburban walking, though about 10 o’clock as we left the village we crossed a long freeway bridge and then were finally back to a gravel road through countryside.

We passed through seemingly abandoned vineyards and an apple orchard. There was a German fellow by the side of the road hand carving little shell souvenirs. The terrain grew increasingly more wooded, interspersed with small vineyards. It was an absolutely gorgeous section to walk.

I was definitely off pace for much of the day. I had some muscle aches from yesterday in places I haven’t felt since Zubiri three weeks ago now.

As we approached the winemaking town of Cacabelos, the Camino turned down an asphalt road. There were now clusters of industrial buildings and warehouses off to the right. We entered the town at about 10:40 AM, just as the first spatters of rain began.

As the Camino passed through the older section of town, we passed a tiny (locked) chapel of San Roque, as well as the first pulperia on the Camino that I have seen.

Somewhere, a radio was blasting “Highway to Hell”, which didn’t seem entirely appropriate.

We stopped to visit and pray in the parish church. In addition to the usual collection of statues and floats, there was a particularly haunting piéta. The look that the artist was able to put into the eyes of the Virgin was deeply moving. It truly conveyed an almost unimaginable depth of haunted sorrow.

Somewhere around here I both put on my poncho – the strawberry troll – and lost track of Tara. I presume these things are related. It wasn’t raining hard, but it was pretty steady as I walked down an uneven sidewalk through to the end of town past apartment complexes and used car lots.

Eventually, these gave way to older houses on one side of the street, and modern gated mansions on the other. The houses grew sparser, and eventually the sidewalk ended. I was walking on a gravel shoulder next to a two lane asphalt road through hilly wine country.

I passed a sign announcing the town of Pieros at about 11:25 AM, but the only evidence of it I could see were two houses and a number of very large commercial bodegas. It wasn’t too long before the rest of the village was in view. it looked fairly quaint, even charming, but I passed right through without stopping. I was moving pretty slowly at this point, and I was afraid that if I stopped at all I would just stop for the day.

I did however grab a piece of chocolate out of my stash as I walked to reinvigorate me for the last six or so kilometers.

About this time, the Camino peeled off from the main road to follow how much smaller road with no shoulder whatsoever. Roadwalking!

Fortunately, it wasn’t too long before we again veered off, this time to a gravel road through vineyards.

I entered the somewhat dispersed village of Valtuille de Arriba at about 11:50 AM. Both the large muscles in my legs and my feet were screaming at me. I was, by this time, hoping for a café or bar to take ten minutes rest. No such luck.

The dirt road out of the village was through a semi-wooded area, which eventually wound its way around hills and through stunning vistas of vineyards rolling away to the distant mist-covered mountains. The rain was constant, now, but the scenery was gorgeous. I kept stopping to take photos, which did nothing for my pace.

About 12:40 PM, the gravel became asphalt, and suddenly I was walking past buildings. The rain had stopped temporarily, and across the valley I could see the twin spires of a church. I was hopeful that I was finally near to my destination.

Ten minutes later, I was well and truly in the town and in search of my albergue. A maze of winding narrow streets led me eventually to the Plaza Mayor and beyond to San Nicolás, a former Jesuit college and now a museum/hotel/hostel/albergue.

I walked in, and to my surprise ran into Tara again. Once in the dorm, I just sort of collapsed into the bed for about half an hour before I could summon the energy to shower.

Hopefully I’ll be able to visit some of the magnificent churches in this town today – one of which contains the relics of Saint Lawrence of Brindisi – but I fear with it being a holiday weekend and now pouring rain, this could be a challenge.

An early dinner would be a great start.