Olveiroa

We left Mazaricos in driving rain, trekking along the shoulder of a secondary road for a while. In a (Smith) word, mizable. Big trucks hauling logs, milk, fuel, building supplies were barreling by, interspersed with vehicles, whizzing and spritzing road runoff. Yuck.

It was a relief to turn off to a gravel trail, wet and squishy. Wind gusts were strong; we were glad for some tree cover. We trekked back roads and other trails before rejoining the Camino route … alongside a secondary road!

Our trek was frustratingly short today; just under four miles. We reached Pensión As Pías well before check in. It’s a lovely old structure, well maintained and artfully renovated. The cafe was hopping with trekkers dropping by for a break. We found a table to wait.

We wanted to drop our packs and trek on awhile. We’d taxi back (taxi ahead tomorrow) for a jump start on a long and difficult trek day. No such luck. The next town is our next destination. We’re stuck! At least we got out of the cold, damp weather.

Our trek took us through rolling hills and farm country, much like we saw yesterday. Larger fields, larger farms, more Holsteins. Entering the small village of Olveiroa, we think we’ve landed in the horrero capital of Galicia!

These charming stone structures dot the landscape across the region (e.g. 4 photos at bottom, below). Most are in reasonably good repair. In Olveiroa there was a dramatic uptick per square mile, with larger structures than most elsewhere. Construction materials look older (second photo, below); some crumbling into ruin.

It’s easy to imagine how granaries served the original purpose throughout the year. It’s not clear if that use prevails? We’ve seen very few notably altered. We surmise they are an asset to property value, often the most prominent feature, sometimes consuming a tiny yard.

Spanish slugs were also out in full for force today. They are huge — around four inches long. I observed several within a couple feet of the roadside, feasting on corn silage dropped off the trucks. Maybe I interrupted happy hour or something.

We first saw them in Portugal, trekking near the coast. I thought it a snail without a shell! We’ve never seen as many as today. They curl up on a slight nudge, revealing orangey-peach underbellies. They look kind of cool, but a pest and a problem for gardeners!

We’ve also seen two fire salamanders on the trail in Galicia, albeit dead. Bird-kill, perhaps. My first thought: freaky! My second: must be toxic. Yup.

We were grateful for safe harbor today, reaching the Pension Rustica As Pais — one of those off-beat accommodations that’s difficult to drop a pin on. The proprietors work so hard they remind us of our home-folk. The solid stone structure easily withstands the wind and rain ramping up outside the door.

It’s more hotel than pensión; tastefully and thoughtfully detailed. They use humble implements and artifacts to excellent effect. Tractor seats are bar stools. Under the glass of each table, an interesting display. Plenty of social space; warm and inviting; rich wood tones and lovely stone.

Best of all, a great restaurant on site. The menu is the menu — noon and night — but the price is right. A stack of clay tiles list selections in multiple languages; another set is displayed on antique iron hand spades. We’ve enjoyed simple Galician fare and hearty bread.

We chatted with Eamon from Ireland after dinner. He’d trekked 19 miles from Negreira in the driving wind and rain. Mercy; no reason to complain about our little excursion!

We’re all heading on to Cee tomorrow. It’s a tough trek on a good day. Hurricane Kirk is packing a punch with lightning, high winds, and torrential rain. We agreed to confer in the morning.

My devotional today was on the blessing of health and healing, for which we’re grateful. The Hubs’ feet are in much better shape today. The longer we go, the stronger we feel in body, mind and spirit.

Much more often than not, my back feels good under weighted pack. No one is more surprised than I! Perhaps it pulls my spine into proper alignment? I hope in our going there will be healing.

Hold hope. Keep faith. Walk your walk.

~ Sincerely, Sondra