Startpoint: El Acebo; Endpoint: Ponferrada; Distance walked: 17k, Steps taken: 20,495.

This morning we descended into Ponferrada from El Acebo. Despite the stunning mountain views as the sun rose behind us, we moved quickly on the rocky mountain path. I enjoyed the fun of jumping from rock to rock. Also, we had run out of cash, were desperate for a cup of coffee and couldn’t find an ATM.

Arriving in Ponferrada with empty pockets, we first bypassed the Templar Castle to enquire in the Tourist Office about the nearest ATM. We overheard the pilgrims ahead of being told there was a festival on in town, so accommodation was difficult to find. Hearing the word ‘festival’ and knowing the next hostel was another seventeen kilometres, we eagerly added to the accommodation shortage by deciding to stay.

As it happens, the first hotel we passed had rooms available at a reasonable price, the Templar Castle was free, and the festival was actually a public holiday celebrated by driving seven rally cars into the main square and then driving them out again.

When I visited the Templar Castle, I was quite happy that it was free because it wasn’t very good. The original Templar Castle was only a wall anyway, and had been refurbished out of existence during the last 800 years. The inside of the castle was a handful of bare rooms and a few fields of weeds. Definitely a landmark that is better if it is not visited, as it looked quite impressive from the outside.

Because of the 12th October public holiday, the whole town was closed. I found a kiosk and asked if I could buy stamps, but was not allowed to. She had stamps there, beside the cigarettes and magazines, but was not allowed sell them, unlike the cigarettes and magazines. The receptionist in the hotel sold me stamps only reluctantly, as she did not know exactly how much the postage on my envelope would be and was therefore more comfortable selling more nothing at all, rather than selling me the wrong denomination of stamp.

In my hotel, I got all my clothes, as well as my bedclothes washed and dried. There are many rumours of bedbugs on the pilgrim circuit and something has been eating my right arm. I can’t think of any reason why my arm is being attacked and nowhere else, but I decided to not take any chances. Apparently pale white Irish meat is irresistible to the Spanish insect population, which probably helps slightly with losing a little weight while here.

In the late afternoon we passed time in the main square, watching the locals as they watched the small audience who watched the cars. We drank some not-very-nice red wine and decided that the Camino needed a new guidebook which concentrates on the practicalities of everyday life, rather than the personal, spiritual and judgemental reflections of the author. Some of the required chapters include:

1) How to know if your sleeping bag is trying to kill you, either by strangulation, suffocation and/or slow-roasting.
2) Frustrations of Hostel accommodation, including the rustling of multiple plastic bags at five in the morning and the stuffiness of dorm rooms for ninety people and no windows.
3) Going to the loo when there’s no loo to go to, including toilet paper etiquette, poo-phobias, and timing your walks to match your runs.
4) Strategic uses of a Sarong or large scarf: a picnic blanket, privacy divider, bedbug shield and fashion accessory.
5) Using local flowers, herbs and leaves to make your backpack smell less like a damp kennel.

Buen Camino