Ponferrada to Ruitelan

An early-ish departure from the beautiful albergue at Ponferrada.

Breakfast with my room-mate, Patrick. In August he was in England, visiting the ancient sites, Stonehenge, Avebury and others. Like Reiner, he is a God and Jesus man, not impressed with the subsequent organised version. Like Reiner, rather serious too.

Yesterday I showed him the large bar of chocolate with almonds, my daily energy boost. The 30 km walking transfigures a guilty luxury into a delicious staple. Except when I gorge on it, which happens.

Chocolate is my sin, Patrick says. Want some, I ask. Oh, no thank you, he says, without conviction.

This morning I fry the end of my bread in butter, offer some with honey. No, you have it, he says, maybe just a little chocolate. I press the bread on him anyway, then the chocolate. He is salivating before the packet is even open. Strangely, chocolate for breakfast is not my thing. I tempt him with a little more. He struggles briefly, accepts. More? I am playing the devil now, but we laugh at the game, and there is still chocolate for the road.

Jose-Antonio, the 40km a day Madrileno, gives me a tip about avoiding unnecessary diversions to villages with spending opportunities. His target is Ruitelan and the Pequeno Potala albergue.

Xavier has briefed me about albergues open after Villafranca, so I have options, and an idea for Ruitelan, over 40km away.
Juanma mentioned the albergue as being Buddhist and I am intrigued.

I am first out at 7.30, pass the Templar Castle, ignore the yellow arrows taking me round it, head through the city asking locals for directions, picking up the Calle de Camino de Santiago, which looks promising, becomes the local road and after a few kilometres the camino joins us, suggesting I probably took a short cut.

After an hour and more on the straight road, with village after village without open country between them, I cross a motorway, this time on a pedestrian bridge. On through vineyards - Bierzo is the local wine and I think about a glass with lunch. Which I do at Villafranca, four and a half hours from Ponferrada. Agatha, the Polish woman at the bar offers garlic soup, tortilla, tomato, bread . . . and the wine, which is not the best idea on a 40km day.

The camino follows the main road most of the way after Villafranca, winding under the motorway which has supplanted it and made it very quiet. At 3, I consider options to stop at 30km and 35, and keep going, walking through the wine induced tired-ness, finally reaching Ruitelan and the Pequeno Potala at 5pm.

Nati, Veronika and Johannes are already here. Jose-Antonio arrives later.

The albergue is run by Luis and Carlos. After the four course meal they serve us (with a carafe of Bierzo), I ask about the Buddhism. Luis explains it is not Buddhism or any other religion, just serving the pilgrims. The camino, he says, is life concentrated. They are doing their thing here and it's a great experience.