16.6km

We leave at 8am today, although it’s a short day. Samuel told us last night that he is leaving Astorga for home in Switzerland on a 1pm train today. And so we have our mission—to catch Samuel at the train station.

There’s two routes to Astorga and we decide to take the traditional route, which goes through more nature than walking by a road.

Hospital de Órbigo is as quiet as when we arrived last night. It’s 4°C, which feels warm (I’d never have said this before) compared to the past few days of snow. The air is fresh as we leave the town, and a rooster crows. There are new mountains I’ve never seen before in the distance, which Ingrid says we are going to climb, and I don’t believe her.

Towards Villares de Órbigo, less than three kilometres away, It’s an unblocked 360 degrees all around us as we leave the town, and the sky is so clear. There’s the new mountains I saw on our left, the Cantabrian Mountains on our right, and the glow of orange sunrise behind us as we walk towards blue skies.

Leaving Villares de Órbigo, we turn to a leaf-covered trail. On my left, the yolk of the sun ascends above the horizon. We take a right, walking up a hill and seeing some leftover snow. Cresting the hill we see the town Santibáñez de Valdeiglesias. It’s a quiet town with no coffee here either.

Leaving the town, we walk past a cow farm with very muddy paths…and it’s unsure which is cow pat and which is ground, like a well-blended brown meringue. My shadow is long in front of me.

Near the top, we stop at some benches to have some food. Accompanying us is a scarecrow-like pilgrim, and a cross with rocks at its base.

Undulating farmland brings us into a forest. There is some uphill and downhill, and whenever we reach high ground, the mountains I saw this morning come into view. I find out later that these are the Montés de León.

After an uphill, we see a wonderful-looking shelter appear, with the mountains in its background. A sign says it is La Casa de los Dioses (The House of the Gods), a pay-as-you-wish place for the food and facilities. There are no humans in sight running it at the moment, but there is a black cat with luscious yellow eyes. They are probably the one who takes care of the place. They come to me and I sit with them in the sun.

When I can finally pry myself away from the lovely cat, I have coffee with a biscuit, bread with orange jam, and a banana. Ingrid also introduces me to something that looks like a chocolate bar, but it’s something else altogether—algaroba. It’s pretty tasty.

We think about how the Camino always provides, and often something better. We were talking about hoping to get a café but the towns are all closed—and we end up finding somewhere special like this. I get a stamp for my credencial to remember this place.

We can’t resist lying down in the hammocks for a while in the sun. We mentally say sorry to Samuel, and resolve to leave by a time that will be enough to rush to Astorga.

San Justo de la Vega—and Astorga behind it—both come into view before a downhill path. We rush through San Justo de la Vega at as fast a pace as we can muster. But I am stopped by an old lady at a door who beams at me as I walk and greet her—“buenos días!” She replies, “¿hace frío en el Camino?” (isn’t it cold on the Camino?), and I’m like, “no, no hace frío, es perfecto.” (no, it is not cold, it’s perfect.) She seems happy I speak Spanish and asks me where I’m from, and a few seconds later, Ingrid catches up as the old lady also asks if we can speak French or Italian and we’re like, “je parle un peu français”, and she starts alternating with French too. My language brain goes into overdrive.

Her name is Leonor, and she’s 93 years old, which is amazing because she looks so sprightly and full of joy. She says the secret to living long is to keep the mind working, and to not think of herself as old. She’s a painter and artist, and comes from a family of artists. The wooden door we are standing at has carvings by her brother and father, carved decades ago.

By this time we are having such a wonderful conversation and know that we’ll miss Samuel’s train. We send him goodbye messages on WhatsApp as we head to Astorga.

We’re the first to the albergue in Astorga, and soon after, other pilgrims I don’t know trickle in. There’s “Boom” Sangbeom (Korea), who I’ve seen around but never properly met, James (Australia), and Alberto (Catalonia). A Korean family of three—Mr. Moon, his son, Byeong Ho, and his daughter, Hui Jin, arrive soon after and are led to the adjacent room.

In the meantime, Ingrid and I decide to explore Astorga and eat while the sun is still out, instead of freshening up first. We find an “Irish pub” which still has pretty authentic tapas and “Crují Croques” pizza.

We decide to visit the Palacio di Gaudí Astorga, a building and museum that looks like a Disney palace. It’s one of the only three buildings by Gaudí outside Catalonia. The interior architecture is really nice and worth exploring, although in my opinion, the museum’s information is a bit overwhelming, and could be better structured.

Ingrid and I get some local Astorga goodies, hojaldres and mantecadas, back to the albergue to share with other pilgrims. We return delighted to see Edoardo and Gerlinde again.

Edoardo proposes to cook pasta for anyone who wants to join in. After a supermercado run, we return to prep together. At the kitchen, I also meet Roman, who is bringing along a ward, Ethan, both from France. It’s quite a party tonight.

The home-cooked meal, accompanied by some salad, olives, and of course wine, is delightful. Edoardo says that it is his tradition to have everyone sing a song from where they’re from after a cooked dinner. I happen to recognise “Arirang” from Korea, “Waltzing Matilda” from Australia, and “Bella Ciao” from Italy, which is special because I learned the song in school choir, but have never heard an Italian sing it.

I end up being the last to sing, and I choose to sing “Home”. It’s a relatively modern song compared to the rest, but probably quite relatable as it is understandable in English. Hearing everyone’s pure voice gives a warm end to a perfect day.