Today began well. Although a hard trek out of Sarria, the track soon began to meander through beautiful lush pasturelands, a little like the Manawatu area. I even passed and crossed a railway line, another form of transport around here. I looked forward to stopping at Barbadelo, but everything was closed. Sometime later, I did find a bar open and had a coffee and biscuits. Then into the bar came the 1st (the only) newbie I met today, Douglas from New York State. He had just come in from Barcelona the night before and this was his1st day on the Camino. He was finding it hard. I continued on.
There has been a bit of an agricultural revival here. Until recently, the countryside was all subsistence farming. Young people went to the cities, but when that went bad, they returned to the country and tried new things, eg through tourism or specialised small-scale agriculture (goats herding, bee-keeping, ostrich breeding, cheese making, you name it), often with skills learned from their grandparents who had long resigned to taking their wisdom and way-of-life with them to their graves.
Sometime later in the day, the track finally met a road, I judged that it would be better to follow the road. They seemed to be going in the same direction. Bad mistake. They weren't. I travelled for 2 kms before coming to a town whose name I did not recognise. I asked and was told I needed to go back. So back I wert, losing an hours time and 4 kms.
This meant that when I finally did get to Portomarin, there was very little petrol in the tank, and no chance of carrying on to Gonzar, which I had originally planned to do. Arriving at Portomarin is quite an experience. At 1st you think you have come to a huge lake, only to realise it is a giant river.
Settlement here dates from at least Roman times when there was a bridge over the river Miño here. Because this bridge was one of the few crossing points on this river it became an important point on the Camino.
In 1956 construction work began on the Belesar dam whose reservoir now covers the original site of the village. The current village and a new bridge were built from scratch. The churches of San Nicolás and San Pedro, an arch from the original bridge and the 16th century Palace of Prince Maza were all painstakingly dismantled and reconstructed in the new village.
Having arrived at Portomarin I found a aubergie to stay in. It was quite a bit dearer than I expected for a aubergie. I had my own room. Sometime later someone else arrived and it was Douglas, the man I had met earlier in the day. He was somewhat the worse for wear, his 1st day on the Camino. He had brought too much with him. We went out for dinner and had a very enjoyable meal together.
There has been a bit of an agricultural revival here. Until recently, the countryside was all subsistence farming. Young people went to the cities, but when that went bad, they returned to the country and tried new things, eg through tourism or specialised small-scale agriculture (goats herding, bee-keeping, ostrich breeding, cheese making, you name it), often with skills learned from their grandparents who had long resigned to taking their wisdom and way-of-life with them to their graves.
Sometime later in the day, the track finally met a road, I judged that it would be better to follow the road. They seemed to be going in the same direction. Bad mistake. They weren't. I travelled for 2 kms before coming to a town whose name I did not recognise. I asked and was told I needed to go back. So back I wert, losing an hours time and 4 kms.
This meant that when I finally did get to Portomarin, there was very little petrol in the tank, and no chance of carrying on to Gonzar, which I had originally planned to do. Arriving at Portomarin is quite an experience. At 1st you think you have come to a huge lake, only to realise it is a giant river.
Settlement here dates from at least Roman times when there was a bridge over the river Miño here. Because this bridge was one of the few crossing points on this river it became an important point on the Camino.
In 1956 construction work began on the Belesar dam whose reservoir now covers the original site of the village. The current village and a new bridge were built from scratch. The churches of San Nicolás and San Pedro, an arch from the original bridge and the 16th century Palace of Prince Maza were all painstakingly dismantled and reconstructed in the new village.
Having arrived at Portomarin I found a aubergie to stay in. It was quite a bit dearer than I expected for a aubergie. I had my own room. Sometime later someone else arrived and it was Douglas, the man I had met earlier in the day. He was somewhat the worse for wear, his 1st day on the Camino. He had brought too much with him. We went out for dinner and had a very enjoyable meal together.
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