Day 23 - 22 May - Negreira to Lago, Monte Aro

Bottlers!

Early morning in Negreira 

Early morning in Negreira 

A long hard day on the road yesterday, an awful weather forecast, and the prospect of our longest walk so far gòt to us in the end! Today would start with a taxi ride. Properly lightweight.

We enjoyed the luxury of a slow breakfast, before our taxi arrived just before 11am. I was expecting some grumpy old Galician grouch to ferry us to our chosen drop off Cornada, but surprisingly our taxi driver was a very cheery woman who spoke great English. So during much of our 25 minute journey we learn a bit about Galicia. In particular, how their language, Gallego, had been banned in the Franco years. It was also interesting to hear that, despite being a very poor region in those times, the Galician's had a great sense of community. Something which, ironically, had reduced massively as the region prospered in the last 25 years. Similar to the UK. The more wealthy and secure we become, the level of self-centeredness increases.




Being in a vehicle for the first time in 22 days was just really odd. It felt like we were being driven by Lewis Hamilton, even though she probably wasn't going very fast at all. Either way it was a massive treat as we were powered along the bone dry roads. Yep; it hadn't rained despite the malevolent, moody skies. God Bless the Spanish weather forecasts!

And so our lovely driver deposited us 14k nearer our remote destination than we might have been. Just 13k to walk, but with a near 1000 feet climb over 2 miles near the end.

It was beautifully rural. The downside of Galicia is the rain, but the upside is the wonderful countryside. It could easily have been Exmoor, or the Peak District, or Ireland. Bottom line is that you don't get the beauty without the rain!



Beautiful old traditional Galician grain stores - Horreos

After couple of miles my blister covering had slipped so we stopped to set it right. I sat on a bank whilst Cate prepared the compeeds, and suddenly says, with more than a touch of alarm, "you're covered in ants". I leapt up at a speed I'd not managed for at least 30 years! And shit, I was crawling with the little buggers. Everywhere! I slapped myself down like a lederhosen clad Austrian on acid. Head, shoulders, knees and toes on x30 fast forward. Order was eventually restored, and on we went.

The countryside remained beautiful, but the prospect of Monte Aro loomed large, like a huge Billy Goat Gruff blocking us from our bed for the night. And so the climb began. Not as bad as yesterday's, but nevertheless a tricky customer. Just as we thought it had levelled out, another turn, and a steeper climb. The Billy Goat Gruff was putting up a hell of a fight, but the tectonic efficency and determination of Cate the Mountain Goat prevailed. We'd won!?


El Mountain Goatios 

El Mountain Goatios

About 400 feet below we could see our destination. And as you all know by now, going downhill is the real killer. The welcome at the Albergue was the best yet. Absolutely first class. What a lovely lady! If Carlsberg did hotel receptionists etc etc.




Halfway from Santiago to the end of the earth, and the swim in the ocean. I'm getting properly excited now.

Buenos noches Poptarts!

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