Decision time…
We met for breakfast at a small cafe right outside our albergue. The sky was dark and menacing, and it sure seemed like we were in for a wet walk. Just as we finished our cafe con leche and chocolate croissants, the sky opened up and a heavy rain began to fall. I put on my rain gear, stepped outside under the awning and watched the rain fall, waiting for it to let up before we took off for the day.
As has now become customary, we began to climb right away. Soon, my shorts began to stick to my skin and I felt water running down the back of my legs. By now the rain had subsided and I began to have the sneaking suspicion that my bladder was, once again, leaking. I took off my pack, took it apart and my suspicions were soon confirmed. Everything was soaked. AGAIN! Double ugh! Gary to the rescue! He gave me a zip lock bag and after checking to make sure that everything was screwed on tightly, I inserted the bladder in the bag and off we went again.
Within minutes we were above the clouds. Mountains in the distance. A bright blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds. The village of Tineo down below. Not surprisingly, the path was muddy and it was a bit challenging to negotiate. I was glad to have the walking sticks which served me well as I anchored myself along the sides of the trail, my poles instead of my feet stuck deep in the mud. There would be no “second breakfast” today as there was nothing between Tineo and Campiello so we carried on. Fortunately Gary and Kristen were more prepared than I. Gary shared some clementines and nuts and Kristen had a few protein bars. Note to self. You were a Girl Scout for godsakes! Be prepared!
We reached the town of Campiello around lunchtime. Sabine was there, sitting outside under a big white awning and waving furiously as we descended into town. The Albergue Hermania was our stopping point for the night, or at least it was for Gary and I. Kristen had booked a bed in Samblismo, a village a bit further on but the albergue there was full so Gary and I would meet her in the morning before beginning the climb over the Hospitales Route.
The route was one of those things pilgrims talk about as they begin the Primitivo. It’s the most challenging of the stages, climbing up over the ridge of the Cantabrian mountains past the ruins of three pilgrim hospitals. While it was no doubt a physical challenge, the scenery was expected to be spectacular. The weather, however, was always a caveat. If it was going to storm, the Hospitales Route was not a good choice. We desperately hoped the weather would cooperate and although we planned to try it, we’d make the final call in the morning. As we sat down for lunch, the heavens opened up once again and the rain began to fall.
As soon as the storm passed, Kristen headed off and we agreed to meet at 6:00 the next morning. We wanted to get a jump on the day’s stage hoping to avoid the rain. The Albergue Hermania had both the traditional bunk bed options and private rooms. Gary already planned to stay in one of the private rooms and with Kristen walking on, I treated myself to one as well. And what a treat it was! A real bed, with a private shower and real towels. While Gary called his husband at home, I went down to the albergue and did our laundry. We met for dinner that night in the albergue’s restaurant.
We ordered a few “tapas” from the menu, salad, patatas bravas and a regional dish that Gary had heard about, cachopo and of course, a couple of Kas Limón. Along the Camino, vegetables (other than french fries) are hard to find. Spanish salads are unusual to say the least, a pile of lettuce, tomato, carrot and onion topped with good sized dollop of unadorned canned tune. It’s certainly not haute cuisine. Still, four days in we were in need of a little roughage so we ate them gratefully.
A few minutes later the waiter brought the cachopo, a slab of breaded steak that literally extended over the sides of the plate. Gary and I looked at each other and laughed. It was big enough to feed a family! Of course it came with a side of french fries, making the patatas bravas rather redundant, but we ate them anyway.
The cachopo was quite a dish. It’s traditional made by taking a large thinly cut piece of veal, layered with cheese and Spanish ham and then covered with another large piece of veal. The whole thing is then dipped in egg batter, flour and bread crumbs and fried in a skillet. It’s similar to chicken cordon bleu, but thinner. The flavors meld together, creating this explosion of meat and cheese and bread that is really beyond description.
We took turns cutting hunks off the gigantic piece of meat but try as hard as we might, we couldn’t finish it. It was just too much food. We stumbled back to our respective rooms, full and satiated, ready for a good night’s sleep in anticipation of the climb tomorrow.
Coming Tuesday - The climbing continues…