As the only albergue in town, it was huge and a beehive of activity, even at 5:30 in the morning. It was fine, though it lacked charm and warmth. We left shortly after 6am, passing by Templar castle and expecting an easy, flat walk.
We walked through what indeed like a well-heeled neighborhood of a North American suburb, singing Michael Jackson (we have a few songs in our repetoire). We watched as a handsome older Englishman caught up with a lovely Belgium lady, and for several kilometers, we hoped for a new romance.
On our way into Cacabelos, we ran into Claudio, a sweet Spanaird who has shown much courage walking with massive blisters. He updated us on Mar and her friends, one of whom had to go home because of her knee.
We stopped for a quick bite to eat, some lovely pastries and croissants that quieted our grumbling bellies.
Then, according to the book, we only had 8km left. Well, this 8km felt more like 12km. It was also not flat. Up, up, and up on long, gradual inclines. At least it was in the wine country of Bierza.
The climate is perfect for vineyards, the sun is hot. Air is dry. Did we mention the sun is hot?
Bierza is also known for its apples, pears, and peppers. A regional specialty is botillo, a pickled, semi-cured pork.
After what seemed like forever through the gorgeous, but hot, vineyards, we arrived in Villafranca, a picturesque town nestled at the foot of the mountains. Aptly named for the Franks who lived there, the plague and flood nearly destroyed this village several times.
We got to to the Albergue de la Piedra, where we reunited with our brother, Alex. Alex had waited two hours for Max, the Italian who got in a fight with a Mexican priest, to pay him back for the money he had lent, but Max never came.
The albergue was opened by two former pilgrims who were inspired to do the walk by the wife’s mother. The couple from Madrid has been extremely happy, taking great in running a good home, including clean, colorful sheets (incredible, super clean, no sleeping bag needed!) and a four jet shower.
The best thing was Conan, a sweet, fluffly golden retriever that B and Kat chased after to the river because he wanted to play fetch in the water. Our tired legs were quickly forgotten as we threw rocks in the river for him to chase happily.
How fun it was to play with a being so free and content in the moment. Conan makes this place feel like a real home, and he is a good reminder of how difficult it is to be mean or petty when something like a pebble thrown in the river is more than enough to get your tail wagging.
The simplicity of being happy was not lost in the evening. A walk around the beautiful square showed off more of the Franks and monastery history.
B met Fabrizio, an Italian from Turin (like Alex), living in Spain. He had spent some time in Birmingham, Alabama in his youth and is starting up an innovative start-up travel company. His travel companion, Nacho, a Spanaird with a British accent given his years living there. Alex, our brother, and Fabrizio offered to cook, and since this is a proper, wonderful albergue with a super clean and equipped kitchen (and clean sheets), we were excited. Juan, the nice gentleman from the Canary Islands also joined.
We can’t say that having a wonderful homemade meal of salmon and crabmeat pasta by two Italian men is a bad thing.
In this land of the Franks, Like Conan, we are learning to enjoy the simple moments of the day. Great food, great company, happy tails wagging.