The Hospitalis Route : Campiello to Berducedo

Today was one of the most difficult days on the Camino Primitivo for me, but also one of my favourites for many different reasons.  Despite the dire warnings of our hospitalera that we must not leave before 10 am because the route would be fogged in and too dangerous to walk, we made ourselves a breakfast of instant coffee, bread, and jam and headed out around 6:30 am. 

 

 

As we followed the paved road out of town the rising sun was splashing the sky with brilliant streaks of gold, pink, and orange.  A thick layer of dew coated the rolling green pastures around us, and waves of cool, white mist were blowing across the low valley ahead of us. The wooden fence posts at the edges of the road guided us onward, and the only sounds we heard in the still morning were birdsong and cowbells. 

 

 

The wooden fence posts lining the road guided us into the community of El Fresno, where the small white Ermita de la Magdalena del Fresno emerged from the mist.  The inside was beautifully kept, with white lace cloths and golden candlesticks adorning the alter and an abundance of pink, red, and white flowers decorating the inside.  There were current postings for community events pinned to the notice board, indicating this special place is still being used. 

 

 

As the rising sun began to the turn the distant mountains to a bright red we left the roadway and began following a dirt track through the lush, green fields.  We wove through the quiet, cool morning along low stone walls, past ivy covered fieldstone ruins, and among newly cut fields of hay that gave off a fresh and delicious smell.  As the sun burned off the mist and the colours gradually intensified each moment seemed more magical than the last as the layers of mountains receded into the distance and the last of mist turned silver in the valleys below. 

 

 

Around 7:30 am, when we were about 3 km into the day's hike, we rounded a bend in the trail and saw the small, highly colourful village of Borres tucked into the valley ahead of us.  We soon came to the lovely Albergue La Montera, which had a large patio overlooking the valley and the mountains beyond.  We decided to stop for a proper breakfast of café con leche and croissants in preparation for the upcoming climb into the mountains, which we knew would be followed by a 24 km stretch with no further services. 

 

 

We didn't expect to see anyone we recognized as we enjoyed our breakfast, as the group of people we'd been walking with had stayed in various different towns last night, many of them ahead of us, and we figured the rest would have passed through much earlier.  However, during our short break we were soon joined by Ben, Ronnie, Tom, and a few others, and we watched Linton, Mike, and Mik walk past, giving us a cheery wave as they went. 

 

 

Due to the high quality company our break took a little longer than we intended, but eventually we turned back to the trail and almost immediately began making a very steep ascent.  We stopped often to enjoy the stunning mountain scenery and to catch our breath, but we nonetheless soon came to the decision point, where we had a choice to walk the lower route along the road to Pola de Allende (which is highly recommended and sometimes necessary in winter and during bad weather), or to take the higher, more exposed 'Hospitales' route through the mountains. 

 

The traditional pilgrimage route climbs up through the Sierra Fonfaraón to the highest elevations on the Camino Primitivo, around 1,200 m (4,000 ft). It was named the 'Hospitales' route because three hospitals were located along it, and modern pilgrims who choose this option now pass the ruins of the Paradiella, Fonfaraón, and Valparaiso hospitals.  Not only is the route rich in history, but on a clear day like today you get to enjoy spectacular, panoramic mountain views as a reward for all the climbing.  Feeling strong and looking forward to the mountains, we chose the hospitales route. 

 

 

Up and up and up we climbed on an extremely steep but wide dirt track.  At first the trail was bordered by lush grasses, shrubs, and tall pines that lent a spicy smell to the warm sunny morning.  Steep grassy slopes extended above and below us as we climbed in the bright sunshine.  Looking behind us, we could see Borres way down below, looking like a tiny toy village.  

 

 

Our progress was slow, not just because of the climbing, but also because we were surrounded by birds that we stopped to watch as they perched on the fence posts along the trail, dove into the shrubs, and foraged on the trail bed.  We were also constantly amazed by the beauty of the landscape, stopping to marvel and say 'Oh, wow!' over and over again.  Our slowness had the added benefit that many pilgrims passed us, leaving us to enjoy the morning undisturbed.  We appreciated this because due to our short day yesterday we were being joined not just by the group we've been walking with for the past few days, but by quite a few people who were previously a day behind us as well. 

 

 

As we got higher up, the trail wound along the edges of the mountains, taking us through what felt like a wild, remote, isolated, and exposed landscape.  We could see the steep and jagged peaks of the mountains extending out around us in all directions. Although the hydro corridors, wind turbines, roads, and forestry blocks in the surrounding slopes provided ample evidence that the landscape was occupied, and in fact heavily exploited, no sounds of civilization reached our ears, and we felt gloriously alone up there above the clouds and soaring raptors below. 

 

 

Around 9:30 am we reached the ruins of the Paradiella hospital, where only small sections of the old stone walls remained to be seen on the exposed grassy slopes.  The hospital was built in the 15th century, and later on it was under royal protection and staffed by Catholic orders.   Standing on the open slope, under the vast blue sky and the bright white sun, we could only imagine the line of pilgrims that walked through this place before us.  We also couldn't help but wonder why the hospitals had been built in such an exposed area.  If it was to serve the needs of the pilgrims passing through, then why did the pilgrims choose such a treacherous route, and not the lower pass?

 

 

A small shrine had been erected by modern pilgrims at the site of the Paradiella Hospital, which featured a small statue of the Virgin Mary. After stopping to pay our respects we continued on to what was one of the most rugged exposed stretches of the route.  As we wound our way among the peaks there was absolutely no shelter, making us extremely glad it wasn't windy, cold, or raining. 

 

A little while later, as we were crossing a pass where the gorse and grass on both sides of the trail had been burnt by a large fire, we passed a lone metal cross commemorating a pilgrim.  We stopped to take a break and wondered who he might have been, and how he came to be commemorated in this wild and rugged spot. 

 

 

As we sat there we watched a herd of wild looking horses grazing some distance downhill on the far side of the trail.  There were 15-20 adults and a handful of foals, some of which were good naturedly chasing each other and playing, even though their legs still looked wobbly and too big.  These wild, free looking animals somehow looked perfect in the rugged landscape we found ourselves crossing. 

 

A little over 2 km later we had climbed to the ruins of the second hospital at Fonfaradón.  This is the most completely preserved set of ruins out of the three, and it looked like there was a small warm-up shelter still standing at the site, but it was locked up tight.  A very small stand of conifers had grown up in the shelter of the stone walls, and they provided a tiny patch of shade and some much needed respite from the baking sun.

 

 

After we passed Fonfaradón we saw what I consider an amazing sight.  We have seen a very well-dressed older woman hiking every day, who has an extremely slow pace, doesn't carry a pack, and always has a brightly coloured down jacket and waterproof tied around her waist.  She smiles and nods when we pass each other, but she never speaks to us, and she gives the impression of sashaying down the trail rather than hiking.  My own prejudiced mind labeled her as a 'Gucci pilgrim,' or someone who would take a taxi at the slightest hint of discomfort.  Yet, there she was, slowly but surely making her way over the hardest and most remote part of the Camino Primitivo.  Not only that, but throughout the day she continually passed us because she never takes breaks!  We never learned her name, but I will certainly always remember her as an important part of this Camino, because she so thoroughly challenged my assumptions. 

 

 

As we continued to climb it began to get really hot in the noontime sun.  When we reached a pasture that had a few trees in it we soon discovered that there were already pilgrims sheltered under most of them, enjoying the shade while they ate whatever lunch they'd brought up with them.  It didn't seem to matter that a herd of freely roaming cows was also enjoying the shade among the trees while searching for something to munch on. 

 

There wasn't much left of the ruins of the Valparaiso Hospital, which are near the highest point of the day, at 1,165 m elevation.  In fact, without the signpost it would have been very difficult to pick out the remains of the walls from the large white boulders and eskers that littered the steep grassy hillsides around us.  Although the landscape felt barren, empty, and exposed up there, we were delighted to see a riot of tiny, delicate, colourful wildflowers, to watch tadpoles in a small ephemeral pool, to catch glimpses of snakes and lizards among the hot white rocks of the trail, and to see the movement of birds all around us.  In this harsh, minimalist environment we were surrounded by life! 

 

 

After the last hospital we had a short respite from the climbing and a small descent, before again climbing back up to 1,145 m at Alto de Palo, the second highest point of the day.  A very short stretch of road walking brought us to the spot where the lower route through Pola de Allande rejoined the Hospitales route.  We took a break at a well-placed white marble picnic table, watching the herd of cows that were elegantly grazing around us and drinking from the nearby pond, which also had some interesting birds in it!  If there had been any shade at that table we would have been hard pressed to leave it behind! 

 

 

Shortly after our break we began a descent that I think was one of the hardest sections of trail I've walked on any Camino so far.  The path went straight down the side of the mountain, cutting a line through the winding switchbacks of the paved road and causing us to cross and re-cross it. We were basically slithering down a rockslide of fist-sized loose stones that shifted with each step.  In parts there was a narrow dirt footpath worn into the edge of the rockslide that offered more traction and made for slightly easier going, but in other areas a dense wall of knee high gorse forced us to slip and slide down the 'trail.'  It certainly was tough on the knees and we're enormously grateful we didn't injure ourselves on the way down! 

 

 

As we made our way steeply down toward the collection of homes in Montefurado the bald mountain slopes were criss-crossed with power lines, and there was evidence of intensive forest management, as well as signs of mining.  It felt like we had just walked out of what could have been a national park into an industrial section. 

 

 

When we reached Montefurado, which was little more than a farm and a small collection of typical Galician stone buildings with slate roofs, we stopped for a moment to look at the small white chapel.  Sheltered against its white wall in the shade was Veronica who we've been walking with, a very talented singer from the Czech Republic who is a member of the Naboso Band.  We exchanged greetings and walked on.  Resting in the shade of the next building was another couple whom we recognized.  It felt like there was a pilgrim tucked into every nook and cranny in the tiny village, glad to find refuge from the hot sun, if only for a few moments. 

 

 

When we reached Montefurado we were hot, tired, out of water, and mentally it felt like we'd 'come down off the mountain' and should be done walking for the day.  In reality, we were still up at 910 m elevation, we still had another climb ahead of us, and we had only walked around 16.6 km, meaning we still had another 7.5 km to go.  It was 1:30 pm, heading into the hottest part of the day, and the fact that we somehow felt like we'd finished the hospitales and should be done made those final kilometers feel absolutely endless. 

 

We followed a narrow dirt footpath alongside the road, grateful for the scanty shade of a few small trees, but too tired to fully appreciate the scenery.  There had been a slight breeze on the other side of the mountain, but now the heat was reflecting off the bright white pathway and the slope beside us, making us feel like we were in a convection oven.  We made another steep climb up, glad when we finally reached the top and found the slight breeze once again. 

 

 

 

 

Essentially we followed a treed valley running beside the roadway for the 4 km to Lago.  It felt like we would never reach it, and we finally got to the outskirts we found Tom lying flat out on his back on the cool concrete of a laneway under a shady tree.  He was joined by the other couple whom we saw in Montefurado.  Apparently Tom had run out of water up on the hill, but had been rescued by a gift of water from Veronica and a coke from the couple.  This is the beauty of the Camino family – blessings, support and encouragement.

 

I joined Tom in the shade, cooling off against the concrete, while Sean went in search of the water fountain in Lago.  He returned with full bottles of deliciously cool water for everyone, reporting that we were only a few meters from the chapel and the fountain in Lago.  When we finally decided to get moving once again and finish those last 3 km to Berducedo, I soon discovered that a little farther along someone had spray painted 'Water' and 'Agua' on the trail in huge letters, with several arrows pointing to the lovely fountain, as though sensing the desperation of all those pilgrims who crossed the Hospitales in hot, sunny weather. 

 

 

 

 

I think we all stopped again to drink at least another litre of water before continuing on.  We followed the road for a short stretch, then ducked into a beautiful plantation of tall, old pines, and finally followed the arrows pointing down another exposed, sunny, dirt track. Both sides were bordered by wire fences that enclosed cow pastures to our left and right. Eventually we came to a crossroad where there were no markings.  We looked at the track, looked at the road running parallel, and looked at our Wise Pilgrim App map, and decided to keep going straight. A few minutes later we saw Veronica coming back towards us looking hot, tired, and slightly panicked.  She hadn't seen any arrows and was doubting her decision to keep going straight.  We convinced her she was on the right track (mentally crossing our fingers that we weren't leading her astray in the heat), and watched as she sped off ahead.  Luckily we ended up where we needed to be, whether it was the official route or not. 

 

 

 

As we came around the bend into the small village of Berducedo we spotted a group of pilgrims we knew sitting outside a bar in the shade of an umbrella.  Linton and Mike had arrived several hours previously and looked freshly washed and relaxed, while Mik and a few others still had their hiking clothes on, and their packs were leaning against the wall. We gratefully plopped into chairs alongside them, ate a deliciously cold ice cream, and enjoyed a cold drink or two.  Over the next half hour the group continued to grow as more and more pilgrims staggered into town and took a place in the shade, the need to cool off greater than the need to shower.  

 

 

A moment that will stick in everyone's head, and which seemed to encapsulate perfectly how many people felt at that moment, occurred when Ben, who has a fear of heights and had just endured an incredibly hard and terrifying day, came around the corner to huge cheers and emphatically declared to all 'Well, that stage of the Camino can just go f*** itself!'  

 

Eventually we dispersed to go check in to our various albergues, shower and do our laundry, buy groceries at the tiny store for tomorrow, and bide our time until dinner.  Our albergue turned out to be inside someone's home, and at first we weren't sure exactly where it was or how we were supposed to get in. With the help of the very nice hospitalera we soon had it figured out, and spent a few hours in our lovely room under the eaves. 

 

 

Before dispersing we'd all agreed to meet back up for dinner at the Albergue Camino Primitivo, where many in our group were staying, for a celebration of Tom's 65th birthday.  Around fifteen people sat together around the long line of tables on the outdoor patio eating dinner, drinking, and talking well into the night.  Tom very generously bought a bottle of excellent Spanish brandy for everyone to share.

 

 

It is these evenings that make the Camino such a special and unique experience. As Tom observed, many people who walk the Camino are liberal minded or democratic, and most are either highly educated or in the process of becoming so.  Many of us share a similar outlook on life, or are seeking to answer similar questions, but the range of ages, nationalities, religions, orientations, fields of expertise, and life experiences that are brought together make the conversations more interesting, and leave almost everyone having learned something of value. 

 

 

This was a good night because many of the people we are walking with are on their first Camino, and today they all accomplished something that was very challenging.  This is a strong bond, and we could see everyone's confidence growing as they started to realize that they have what it takes to finish this Camino, and they can stop worrying about 'doing it right' or 'being pure' or anything else.  We all walk our own way, and it was wonderful to see those we are with beginning to discover what each of their ways is. 

 

It was also very interesting to hear the different perspectives on today's route.  It was one of my favourite stages, because I love mountains and I love feeling like I am in wild, remote, places far from civilization. Many didn't like this at all, and didn't enjoy having no services all day, nowhere to stop, and nowhere to get help if it was needed.  Like it or not, it was a tough stage, and I think everyone learned about themselves and what they are capable of today.  It is now very late, it has been a very long day, and I know tomorrow morning will arrive long before we are ready for it.

 

Distance: 27.2 km

Accommodations: Albergue Camin Antiguo