We left Grado after a quick café con leché stop and ascended to El Fresno, a place of no real note other than it was the highest point we’d reach all day. The scenery yet again is stunning; so far much of the trail has been on tracks and paths rather than roads, which is a total delight.
The mix of pilgrims appears different to last year. On the Norté there was a wide range of nations. This year it seems that everyone we meet is Spanish. They are friendly enough despite my atrocious Spanish, although I feel a greater sense of camaraderie when mixing with other overseas pilgrims and that spirit seems to be missing in the first couple of days.
So it was a small but welcome pleasure to come across John and Don at a small bar on the way to Salas. John is 70 from USA, looks super fit, is super cool and on his 5th Camino. Don, 68, from Canada is on his 15th Camino… Yes, 15th! He manages perfectly well with half his left arm missing from his elbow.
They started in San Sebastian and were having a lot of trouble finding accommodation in albergues, sometimes turning up before they were open only to find the queue waiting outside exceeded the number of available beds.
That didn’t augur well for our night in Salas as there were so many people on the trails, so I suggested to Jean Max that I should phone and try to book ahead. “I completely understand if you want to do that” he responded “but I think I’ll carry on and see what’s available when I get there”.
“You’re so right” I exclaimed, and of course he was. This was me wanting to be in control of every aspect of my life. And I’m finding that taking a risk and just waiting to see what comes up is surprisingly liberating! So that’s what we did.
And yes, as soon as we arrived in Salas we were met by a friendly hospitalero at a brand new 20 bed private albergue, who was very happy to see us. Only one bed had been taken so far… So much for my fears!
She made us coffee and settled us in then we went off to explore the town and grab a late lunch. Cafe Pachon was buzzing with locals tucking into huge plates of bean stew and meat dishes. We looked on enviously and the waiter welcomed us in… 5 enormous courses later plus a couple of carafes of wine, we waddled out. Amazingly this was all for €10.
Salas is a pretty, mediaeval town and we just about managed to haul ourselves along the path by the river to view a little more of the town before retiring early in the albergue. An early night meant an early start and by 6:15 we were on the road. – no breakfast needed!
We left town in the dark, having been warned that the path to Tineo was very muddy… Fortunately it was light by the time we reached it as it also proved to be a very long cow track, in parts a cloying mixture of mud and cow sh*t that couldn’t be avoided. At every stream we’d wash our boots, only for them to be re-coated after a few more metres. And so it went on for several tiring kilometres…
We passed an elderly farmer carrying fodder for his sheep. He was wearing traditional Cantabrian albarcas – clogs with 3 short stilts or tarugos, ideally suited for the muck we were walking through. 
Our destination, Tineo, is not a town to remember, other then the hotel that Jean Max and I elected to stay in, in preference to an albergue… It had started to rain and after the morning’s mudfest we elected for a little luxury and enjoyed some free time in our spacious individual rooms.
I can’t explain exactly why, but the following day felt like a transformation point.. from the moment we climbed out of Tineo, it was a different world, both physically and spiritually. Perhaps it was the atmospheric morning mist and the calm trails. Certainly, Jean Max has more of a spring in his step and that can be related directly to his joy at finding girolles along the side of the trail in the damp woods.
His enthusiasm filtered across to me as we scoured the banks for those elusive orange mushrooms. We collected enough for a tasty hors d’oeuvre and hoped we could find somewhere that would allow us to cook them.
We arrived around lunch time in the tiny hamlet of Campiello and over a coffee wondered whether to move on or remain. My preference was to stay here overnight as the weather report for the next day was excellent, which meant we could potentially walk the recommended ‘Hospitales‘ high route that is considered too dangerous on a cloudy day.
Leaving now meant we had no choice but to take the lower route. This was the only section of the Primitivo I was determined to walk if at all possible when planning the trip back in the UK so was delighted this was also Jean Max’s preference. We crossed the road to the Casa Herminia and there came across the redoubtable Herminia herself, very much larger than life and without question the local matriarch.. The café, farm and albergue in this one stop hamlet all carry her marque!
She is a delightful lady however and signed our credencials with a personal message. She looked at me intensely before writing mine and her words hit quite a chord with me
She also offered to cook the girolles for us as a mid-afternoon snack. We returned from the albergue and they were there prepared for us. “Beautifully cooked, but a little too much garlic” commented Jean Max
The peregrinos table in the evening was all Spanish except for me, Jean Max and an Italian, Giovanni who was walking solo.
The Spanish were a great crowd and thought it hilarious when I brought out the voice translation app. We’ve had fun ever since whenever our paths crossed in the forthcoming days. 
The two of us are now the 3 Amigos, with the addition of Giovanni who we persuaded to walk the ‘Hospitales’ route with us the next day. And what a day that was….
Peebeecat 
Ever since you told me you were embarking on another Camino adventure I have been really looking forward to reading your posts. You write so articulately, with humour and emotion, and make us back home in the UK feel as if we are there with you. Great photographs too. Take care of your toes……..x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Jan. Really appreciate your lovely words. The toes are good so far… Touch wood! Pete xx
LikeLike