Via Podiensis: To Samos through Storms

18 October 2023 Thom Pilgrim Reports, Via Podiensis

We had a fantastic community dinner last night. The only challenge was getting across the street to the place where the dinner was being served. It was seriously stormy.

By morning, it was still raining but not so much storming at first. The weather report even indicated a rainless period of several hours. Breakfast was served at 7:00, and I was the second person in line. Today’s goal is the monastery town of Samos, a distance of approximately 20 km.

I left at about 7:30. It was dark and raining. The path was rough gravel and stone, and my entire focus was on the path ahead of me to avoid stepping in holes or puddles, of which there were many.

At some point after 8:00, the sky begin to lighten. Rain was not quite as steady now, but an eerie mist had rolled in obscuring the landscape beyond just a couple of dozen meters. The path briefly re-joined the road, but was soon off on its own again. This time it was dirt and mud – a smoother walk but not any drier.

At some point, the Camino crossed the road before heading slightly uphill.

A little after 8:20 AM, I passed through the tiny hamlet of Biduedo. Its village church is reputedly the smallest on the Camino.

It was locked, of course, but I prayed for the intentions of the Camino in the shelter of its open narthex. I took the opportunity to stow my flashlight and my gloves.

I descended on an asphalt road below the clouds, now, which allowed me to see some of the beautiful Galician scenery. And the cows. Lots of cows. The wind was starting to kick up a little, but it was nothing as bad as yesterday.

After the asphalt ended, I found myself gingerly picking my way down a path of slippery rocks and stones. The mist was descending into the valleys, and the wind was getting worse.

At about 8:40 AM, I realized to my horror that I had missed a sign in the rain back at the village. I had to backtrack uphill over the slippery rocks to regain the trail, which I only did at at 8:50.

It turns out that the Camino takes a sharp left-hand turn right after the church. That probably added at least 2 km to my day. Well, at least I got some nice photos of cows.

I was so warm from the exertion at this point, that my glasses fogged up and I had to unzip my poncho. Fortunately, the rain had temporarily abated. Needless to say, that didn’t last for long.

The Camino followed a rural road, mostly gravel, sometimes smoother, sometimes rougher, and generally downhill. The rain was intermittent, but as I approached the hamlet of Filloval, the wind started kicking up something fierce again. I was well and truly ready for second breakfast when I arrived at about 9:25 AM.

When I left 30 minutes later, the wind had not died down, and it was still raining in earnest. The temperature had also dropped, and I put my gloves back on for a while. Camino followed a gravel path downhill through forest and meadow.

As the morning wore on, the intermittent rain became less and less frequent. The wind was in sudden gusts now rather than a constant howl. The Camino passed through a succession of small villages in quick order. On their asphalt and concrete streets, it was often difficult to tell where the mud left off and the cow slurry began.

More and more, the intervening land was forested, and the low ruins of stone walls became more frequent alongside the path, which was now mostly dirt. I was not well and truly into the heart of Galicia.

In the little village of Ramil, there stands an ancient chestnut tree that Francine and I have always stopped to admire when we have passed through. This time, I did the same, though I was very much missing her as I stood there.

Arrived in the town of Triacastela at about 10:38. Despite the name of the town, there is no castle here, much less three, although I am given to understand that there were at some point in the 10th or 11th centuries. Maybe.

I attempted to visit the 18th century church of Santiago (with its Romanesque apse), but the gate leading to the church was locked.

Near the end of town, Camino splits in two, with one path making directly for the city of Sarria, and the other taking a detour to visit the royal monastery of Samos. Today, most pilgrims would turn right to go to Sarria – it is the more direct route to Santiago. Some of us, however will take the left-hand path to the monastery. In contrast to the dozens of pilgrims I saw today up to now, I only saw four on the road to Samos.

By this time, it was almost 11 o’clock, and I had 10 km to go on the day. The path was on the shoulder of a winding two-lane highway through the hill country. In places, it was an actual gravel path next to the road, sometimes even with a protective barrier. But this was not always the case.

In some stretches, it was actually a wooden boardwalk hanging over the edge of the steep hillside.

As the Camino continued, across the road great jagged cliffs loomed to my right, while to my left a river burbled at the bottom of a steep ravine.

At about 11:30, the Camino briefly left the highway and crossed the river on an old stone bridge. It followed a section of asphalt road that appeared to be the original highway route – there was even an old style road marker there. It was a fun little diversion, but I was back walking next to the highway within just a few moments.

Just after this, the rain started again.

The Camino crossed the highway, and then left it altogether for a one-lane blacktop into the village of San Cristovo do Real. The rundown village church was locked. The village smelled of wood smoke, and almost before I could take it all in I was out the other side and walking a narrow gravel path through the woods.

For a long while, the path was simply a wide notch cut into the hillside.

Sometime before noon, the rain not only stopped, but the sun briefly broke through the clouds.

Here are the path widened out, and there were now meadows around me. I crossed a modern bridge over a swiftly flowing stream. After this, the Camino was again on a one lane rural blacktop, which quickly took me up into the village of Renche. The village church, which looked like it was about to be overrun by its graveyard, was locked.

I considered stopping in the local bar for lunch, but I only had about 5 km to go, so I pressed on, hoping to be at Samos before the rains could return.

Within minutes, I passed through the village of Lastres, which is far as I could tell consisted of five houses and a couple of barns, and then it was back to the dirt path cut into the hillside.

Below me to the left the Camino had rejoined the river, which according to my map was the Río Sarria. In the absence of a storm, the forest walk was peaceful and idyllic, a lovely tranquil hike.

The path eventually climbed higher and pulled away from the river. I had the impression that we were crossing into the next valley over. The terrain these past few days has seemed like an echo of the terrain in my first few weeks walking in France.

I smelled wood smoke, and sure enough I rounded a bend and walked into another little village, Freituxe. The little church, which apparently had been restored in 2005, was locked tight.

And then it was back to climbing through the woods. Eventually, of course, the Camino had to go down. This was accomplished through a precipitous descent over loose rock.

Then the Camino bridged the river and started climbing up the hill on the other side and into the village of San Martiño. The church was locked, and one of the village dogs objected loudly and vociferously to me even trying the door.

The path out of the village was an asphalt road which wound its way uphill. After going through a viaduct and a complicated road intersection, the Camino once again headed overland on a gravel road. At 1 PM, I heard a church bell chime the hour somewhere ahead of me.

Just a few minutes later, I saw the great monastery laid out in the valley ahead of me. This is an awe-inspiring sight, comparable only to seeing Conques or Rocamadour for the first time.

Now it was just a matter of getting down into the valley. The gravel path was flanked, sometimes on two sides, sometimes on one, by walls of cut stone. Eventually, these were replaced by the first buildings of the village and asphalt and concrete streets.

I entered the village at about 1:05, but I didn’t reach the abbey hostel until almost 1:20. The monastery here has maintained a Hostel for pilgrims for more than 1100 years.

At this point my two top objectives were a shower and lunch. Those accomplished, I went on a tour of the great Royal Monastery of Samos, where I prayed for the intentions of the Camino.

I will probably have some additional thoughts on Samos in a future post.