Let’s put a few things in perspective. I had a terrible night’s sleep at the hostel – as did five of the eight people in the dorm room. The hostel people rush you out the door about 8:30am which in December in these parts is pretty early. It was -4 degrees outside and I hadn’t had a morning coffee. Not a great start, but the rest of the day was pretty amazing.
There was a champion snorer in the room which wasn’t evident until well after lights out last night. She wasn’t up to the amazing level of the guy in the Burgos hostel, but she’d get a medal in any state snoring championships. Most people were pretty annoyed with her, then two others joined in the snorfest and there were giggles and groans all ’round from the five remaining non-snorers. It was like having an archipella snoring group in a live gig.
One guy set up a consistent and subtle base beat while snoring – boom boomty boom etc. Another guy naturally changed his volume all the time which gave dramatic effect, and the star of the show ? She was just freestylin’ the whole time. It would have been funny if we all weren’t trying to sleep at 2am.
One lady left the room and slept in a chair with her head on a table just outside the room. I went down to the kitchen and made a bed of a few plastic chairs for a few hours of silence. Another guy left at 5am. He was fuming. Really, if you snore like that, you should warn people or simply go to a hotel. Pension or something else. Especially here – everyone was going to walk 20kms or ride 50kms the next day. You can’t do that without sleep.
Anyway, I had a quick breakfast as the cleaner kicked us out of the kitchen area about 8:15 ! I didn’t want to leave early so I could ride in the warmest part of the day but had no choice. Most of the Camino walkers had left before me, and as I went through town, I spotted a coffee shop. Inside was as warm as toast, so I was in no rush.
When you get a coffee here, they’ll usually give you some tortilla or a small sandwich, and that’s a very nice touch. I just love the tortilla which is like a potato omelette or frittata. Perfect cycling stodge.
After clearing the main part of town, there was quite a downhill for about 500 metres. I had my ears covered with a beanie, a scarf up over my mouth and nose, two gloves on each hand and by the time I reached the bottom, I was screaming in pain. It was just too cold.
Over the next five or ten kms, I passed all of the walkers from the hostel and gave them all a wave. They’re a happy bunch and very determined. The photo at the top is a French pilgrim from the hostel. The last one I passed was Finn the Canadian who was talking to some donkeys when I caught up. He somehow managed to sleep through the crazy snoring last night and told me – you’ve just got to get used to it. Wise words. I wish I could.
After that, the road began to rise up from the valley through villages and up to the high point of the day at 1500 metres. Before then, I stopped for an early lunch (in Rabanal del Camino) of tortilla washed down with a cortado and felt ready to finish the ride. At the high point, the road plateaued for a while before reaching the edge of the mountain where a big steep descent ensued.
Before the descent was this confusing sign. I took it to mean – John, you are outstandingly strong (thanks Spain, you’re not too bad yourself). In 15 kms, ride in circles and be careful.
It was still really cold, so I rugged up as much as possible and took off down the mountain. Immediately, I was doing 60 km/hr. Yeeehaaa ! I love a good Yelp in situations like this. It was so much fun but anything over 60 meant that my eyes watered and I could hardly see. The sign was right, and I had to circulate with caution.
As I descended, the temperature dropped, everything hurt from the cold, and I started to get concerned about ice on some of the corners. I stopped at a few places for photos and to thaw out my fingers. Double gloves (thin and thick) seemed to make no difference. I would love to do this descent on a warmer day, but I assume there’d be traffic then.
The village of Molinaseca looked beautiful – it marked the end of the fun descent, and the last few kms into Ponferrada weren’t inspiring.
That is, until I saw the Templar castle set on a dramatic hill overlooking the river. The main town was higher up, so I stopped and booked a hotel. (I couldn’t face another snore-filled night in a hostel).
Again, the town is lovely. It’s also a public holiday so lots of people were out and about. At night the Xmas lights came on and the place was really crowded, really cold, but full of atmosphere. I had an early dinner and retreated to the warmth of my quiet room
