Day 25: Short Day

We woke to the sounds of other peregrinos and our own trained bodies, and the persistent chorus of beeps, boops, and pings from a fellow pilgrim’s phone. Our hopes of sleeping in were dashed by 6 AM, our bodies conditioned to the early starts of the Camino. Quietly, we packed our gear in the dim light of the kitchen.

Stepping out into the cool morning air, we made our way to the cafe across the street. We savored our breakfast, knowing it was the fuel for the journey ahead. The climb out of Salas was steep, the path demanded our attention and effort. Yet, as we found our rhythm, the climb steadied, stretching over five kilometers. The air grew colder, and soon we were enveloped in a chilly cloud, the world around us reduced to a hushed, gray veil.

Emerging from the cloud, the descent began, and with it, the landscape revealed itself in a breathtaking panorama. Below us, golden valleys glowed, the morning light piercing through the clouds to illuminate the surreal farmland nestled in the distance. It was a sight that seemed to belong to another world, a painter's dream brought to life.

At the bottom of the descent, we made a brief detour to visit the Monasterio de Obona. Founded in 780 and decreed a mandatory stop for pilgrims by Alfonso IX, this monastery stood as a testament to centuries of faith and perseverance. Now in ruins, the site held an air of mystery. We wandered through the crumbling arches and silent cloister. Records as far back as the 11th century once kept here accounted for the many who had passed this way before us.

Leaving the monastery, we trekked the five kilometers to the next town, a crucial stop for coffee and last-minute groceries. This town, we had been warned, was the final opportunity to stock up on supplies for the next leg of our journey. Afraid of not finding good supplies here, we made all our purchases last night in Tineo. With bags still slightly heavier than usual, we continued on, the path ahead leading us through fields, forests, and between pastures and streams.

For the last few kilometers, cornfields stretched out in every direction, a sea of green. This region of Spain, Asturias, is known for its lush, fertile lands, ideal for growing corn. The crop was introduced to Europe from the Americas in the 16th century, quickly becoming a staple. Corn, or maize, found a perfect home in the mild, humid climate of northern Spain. Walking beside these fields is calm. The stalks sway gently in the breeze.

Three kilometers further, we arrived at our albergue, a welcome sight after the day’s exertion. We opted for the luxury of a private room and the convenience of paid laundry, sparing our tired hands the task of washing. After settling in, we made our way to the village bar, a small, cozy establishment where locals and pilgrims mingled. Over an afternoon drink, we found ourselves in a lively debate about whether the lizards we had seen ran or scurried. Well it really wasn't much of a debate, but more of a fun conversation.

The remainder of the day was spent in restful lounging, our bodies grateful for the respite. We knew that tomorrow would likely be tougher, as we were to reach the highest elevation of our entire Camino journey. The weather forecast was favorable, but the exposure to the elements was always a consideration.