Camino Portugues Day 13 - Armenteira to Barrantes

I’d booked my room in the monastery months ago, as I was very keen to stay there. And consequently I had organised the rest of my trip around that, including booking the boat for Thursday. Looking at the mileage, I had thought that I might want a rest day after what was the biggest walk of the trip to the monastery yesterday, and I’d also thought I’d want to stay there for as long as possible. So I woke this morning knowing that I only had 4 or 5 miles to walk. In fact I had to leave the building by 9, and actually I’d have been fine to do another long day, I feel very strong and not at all over tired. But everything is fixed, so that’s what I’m doing. And when I woke to find it was raining, but that it was forecast to stop later in the morning, that felt like it was the Way providing again…..

So it was an extremely leisurely start, staying at the monastery till the last possible moment, and then nursing a croissant and coffee breakfast at the bar outside whilst chatting to those pilgrims who were about to start the 25 km walk to Vilanova de Arousa, my destination for tomorrow.

It’s the toss up again between booking ahead and having the things you definitely want to do for certain, against the flexibility to change plans if you haven’t made firm commitments. Although I actually felt quite envious of those with a longer day ahead of them today, I wouldn’t have missed my night in the monastery for anything. And I had a beautiful stage ahead of me, and with every minute of drinking my coffee the weather improved.  If I’d set off early, I’d have walked the ‘path of water and stone’ in the rain. Instead, it looked like I might have sunshine.

I read up a bit more on the history of the monastery from my battered Cicerone guide.  It seems that it was founded by a knight called Ero in the 12th century. One day he went for a walk in the woods and heard a bird singing so beautifully that he fell into a trance that lasted for 300 years. I certainly felt in a trance like state last night. The monastery was abandoned in the nineteenth century, and then reoccupied only in the late 1980s. With the nuns I saw yesterday all being of a certain age, I wonder how long it will last as a religious house.

I then spent some time using Google Translate to negotiate the arcane online check in for tonight’s accommodation, before packing up my stuff - putting the poncho back into my case, no need to use it today!  For the first time I’ve broken out my walking trousers and waterproof socks, but so far no other rain gear. Very lucky. In fact I think the poncho is the only thing I’ve packed that I haven’t used, apart from things in the first aid kit. I have 4 lightweight tops, one of which doubles as sleepwear, 3 bottoms, underwear, a sarong that doubles as a towel, a light fleece and my luxury item of a swimming costume. Even if I don’t use it again before I come home, it was worth bringing for the joy of the swim in the heatwave.

I eventually set off around 10. 30, after a sweet conversation with the waiter, with him asking me to help him with his understanding of ‘this’ and ‘that’. And then down the ‘path of water and stone’ which runs alongside the young river Armenteira as it tumbles downhill for about three miles. Because most people would have set off earlier, I had the whole thing to myself, apart from two girls who powered past me with barely time to stop to look. They missed out, this was almost indescribably beautiful.

The rain had freshened everything, the moss and the ferns were vibrant, the waterfalls enthusiastic and the birds could be heard above the sound of the rushing water. I took so many photos, and also took a lot of moments to just stand and look at it.

There were many opportunities for going in the water, but it wasn’t quite warm enough to risk it. I could imagine it though, specially in the heat of last week - it would have been amazing.

This was originally more than just a beautiful footpath. Before electricity came to this area there were 50 mills running down this short stretch of the river for the farmers to grind cereals. Some of the mills have been restored, but there are many that are ruined, with the moss growing over the millstones and the walls, and similarly irrigation structures for water transportation now just dripping. It would have been such a different, busy place then, with all the machinery working in such a short stretch of water.

The path required a bit of concentration, being roughly hewn and full of tree roots and boulders - another good reason to take my time.

Towards the bottom I chatted to an Australian couple who are here on holiday who will be driving to Porto in a couple of days. A totally different type of adventure for them. The path emerged briefly, crossed the river and then continued on its left. A bit less rugged now, and the river had also widened and smoothed out, more the adult than eager child. Though it periodically threw in a few faster sections to remind us of what it had been capable of in its youth. I ambled, and got to the end in an hour and a half or more.

On the side of the path there was a mini sculpture park showing Galician life in the last century, with a mini horreo and chapel too. I loved the juxtaposition of the woman with her children and the sow with her piglets.

And then round the corner was a little cafe with a toilet (very handy after all the coffee at breakfast!) and the  American women I met yesterday. I’d bumped into them in the cafe earlier too, they are such a friendly and welcoming group. They are continuing to Vilanova da Arousa today, so I probably won’t see them again. I hope that they have a great journey into Santiago.

I settled at the cafe with my first piece of Tarta de Santiago of the trip. Home made by the owner, it was moist and delicious, reminding me of the last time I was in this part of Spain.

I stopped puzzled by the standing pieces of granite - were they the base of a huge horreo?  I then saw that they had plants next to them, so guessed that perhaps they’re supports? Then finally I saw the vineyard in the next field, all with granite supports. Perhaps other vineyards I’ve passed have had them, and I’ve passed unaware, but mostly I think they’ve been concrete. Cutting granite into posts like this must be quite a job.

There was then an incongruous and complicated section to cross a series of dual carriage ways and roundabouts, before returning briefly to the river. The path crosses it on flooded stepping stones, and then ambles alongside it, the speed of it slow enough to allow weeds to grow in the middle.

I am staying in what is described as a ‘Rustic hostel’, which to me implied the countryside. But if I’d looked at Google maps before booking I’d have seen it was on the side of a roundabout. However, I can read a book anywhere, and this is a rest day, so I spent a quiet couple of hours with a good salad and an unexpected bacon sandwich that was brought as a tapa, along with some Spanish families and friends and four municipal lighting contractors who spent a strong 90 minute lunch break having a large meal.

I’ve been thinking about the next couple of days. Looks like there’s rain ahead, that poncho might get an outing after all. I was also looking at timings in Santiago to see if I can catch a mass when the botafumeiro is swinging. I think it might be possible as I’m going to be there for the morning of Pentecost, and it might also be swinging on the Saturday on which I arrive. When I came to the city before, my friends and I went to a service, and I remember seeing the pilgrims coming into the church in various states of grubby exhaustion. I’m very pleased to think that I’ll be one of them in a few days time.

I took myself off for a look around Barrantes, the village a mile or so up the road from my hostelry. Nothing much to see, except to note that this is grape country. So much of the land is given over to vineyards, and I get the impression that one of my favourite wines, Albariñho, is made round here. I noted that I might try to get a bit of that later.

And then I put my feet up for a proper rest, something I haven’t done for at least a fortnight. It felt like a bit of a shock really, but I’m sure it will have done me good as preparation for the last two proper days of walking ahead.

Stats

Distance travelled - 4.5 miles plus a couple for sightseeing.

Total ascent - a hilarious 39 feet/12m

Local tipple - tinto de verano again, as no albariñho to be had. With a very good piece of hake, served with asparagus and potatoes, and rather surprisingly, hummus.