30.2km

I dreamt about telling a relative off for bad behaviour. It’s probably subconscious residue from the feelings last night. There is so much kindness on the Camino that when you come into contact with something lesser, it’s a very stark experience.

Roman and Ethan are staying two nights in Ponferrada, and so is Alberto who has some pain in his leg. I might not be seeing them anymore.

Edoardo, Ingrid, and I leave at 8.30am. There’s no place open for breakfast at Molinaseca so we head off, anticipating a place to eat in Ponferrada. I’d usually take the countryside route, but since we are making up for time today, we take the variant along a road towards the city.

It’s an ombré sky in front of us, in chilly -3°C air, with frost on plants along the sidewalk. We walk individually in silence. As I exhale each steamy breath, I feel like I’m purging bad energy, trying to leave it behind. I wonder if the others are doing so too.

Ponferrada appears over a crest in the road, framed by a mountain range. The first, open restaurant we find is pretty welcoming, looking like an American diner. I get a café con leche that comes with a churro, a small bocadillo de jamón (cured ham sandwich), a “napo choco” (chocolate napolitana), and freshly-squeezed orange juice. It feels like a good start.

It’s less cold and still sunny when we start walking again. The route takes us out to a nice park along a river. There is some banter—good cheer is back. As we walk through a neighbourhood suburb on the outskirts of Ponferrada, two kind ladies approach us, wishing us Buen Camino and asking more about us. They ask me if I speak Malay, Chinese, or English in Singapore, and give me a card of well wishes (they made cards in multiple languages). On the card, I see the website for Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Camponaraya is a bigger town than most, and Edoardo knows a good place called Mesón el Reloj. It’s comfortably warm, so we sit outside in the sun, getting a menu set each and sharing all the dishes. We are hoping for less meat, so we choose arroz meloso de pescado (creamy fish rice), lentejas con chorizo (lentils and chorizo), crema de verdura (cream of vegetable soup), caldereta de pescado (fish stew), and cazuela de chichos con huevo (“chichos” casserole with egg). They are all prepared spectacularly, and we are satisfied.

Out of city, I finally see vineyards again, producing vino del Bierzo, the pride of the region. The countryside path beautiful, and the rays of the sun bathe us in its warmth.

We reach Cacabelos, a town we all feel has a funny name, and wonder about its origin. Finding a well-needed bar, we get coffees. At the bar, I see a witch figure decoration, iconography which Ingrid says will start to get common when we reach the Galicia region. Meigas (Galician: witches) are popular there due to Celtic influence, and are seen as good luck.

We leave on a gravel path next to the road, bringing us to a gradual uphill. It’s 14°C now, a contrast to this morning, and we feel warm especially when exerting uphill. The path brings us through mass fields of vineyards.

Valtuille de Arriba is a charming small town. But it is quiet and we see no one, so we continue on through beautiful vineyards among rolling hills. As the sun sets, it casts an amber glow on parts of the land.

Villafranca del Bierzo appears, nestled within hills. It’s almost dusk as we descend to it, grateful to have reached it at the end of the day. At the albergue, we find James, the Moon family, and Boom already there. We’re happy to see them all again.