Startpoint: Santa Catalina de Sonoza; Endpoint: El Acebo; Steps taken: 36,795; Distance walked: 29km.

I named yesterday’s post after a donkey, but forget to say much about it. The donkey we had first seen at a little impromptu coffee shop later reappeared outside our hostel for the night. They wouldn’t let him stay. Today as we walked, we initially wondered what nature of beast had caused the hoof marks on the path and the quite substantial piles of dung blocking the narrow track through the woods. When we realised, we stopped wondering why the donkey hadn’t been allowed stop in our town.

We lost someone today. We don’t know where. They may be ahead of us, or they may be behind us – the previous town had a hostel with no electricity or hot water. If you’re out there somewhere, third musketeer, get back in touch, but have a shower first.

Our morning’s walk today was a long hike up a steep mountain in freezing cold, very thick mist. We were getting cold and all our clothes were wet. After 3 or 4 hours, we reached a small village near the summit. We couldn’t see more than 20metres in any direction, so initially the village looked like a ghost town – just the occasional grey outline of an empty building. After about 500meters we heard music from the side and found a little restaurant. We opened the door, not knowing what to expect.

We were the only people in the place apart from a large bearded man in old-fashioned clothes who stood behind the bar, looking gruff. It was a dimly lit basement, and as we walked down the steps we saw swords hanging together with animal skins and tapestries on the stone walls. The furniture, fixtures and fittings were hand carved out of old bog wood. A hot stove burned in the corner. It looked like that Mongolian bar from Indiana Jones and the Lost Ark.

We walked to the warmth of the stove like adventurers in a rough tavern in some wretched hive of scum and villainy. I removed my soaking hat and hung it on the chimney to dry in the heat, while we ordered two cafe-con-leches. Soon after our coffees arrived, the owner ran over to our table looking stressed and annoyed. My hat had caught fire.

Luckily, he caught it quickly, but now the (once quite nice) baseball cap that has kept both the sun and rain off my bald head has a scorch mark on the front. It’s also a little warped and the leather strap is shrivelled like an out-of-date sun-dried tomato. It’s part of my camino story now, so I’ll keep it.

Today we passed le Cruz de Ferro, the highest point of the Camino. Pilgrims traditionally leave a stone they’ve brought from home to represent something they’ve left behind by walking the pilgrimage. I was carrying a stone from my parents’ garden. It represented 300grams of weight I wouldn’t have to carry any further. As we left the cross and mound of stones, the most lifted and the sun shone for our descent to El Acebo down a rough rocky path. That could have been meaningful or it could have been lucky. I had my sunblock handy, so I’m counting it as lucky. We found a lizard and an odd-looking insect basking in the sun on our descent and pestered them with cameras. For them the change in weather was not lucky.

Coming down the mountain we were greeted with views over the foothills into Ponferrada, which we’ll pass through tomorrow. With the large cooling towers of the power plant pumping steam into the blue sky, it looked a lot like the opening credits to The Simpsons, so I hummed the theme tune as we walked into town. I would have moved onto The Bartman, but we hit town earlier than I expected.

Buen Camino.