Day 40 - Lubián to A Gudiña (15 miles)

As I sit here in a quiet bar drinking my wine and reflecting on the day the thing that strikes me is the amount of water I have seen. In the last six weeks of walking most small rivers have been dry or at best a trickle but for the last couple of days, and especially today, there have been fast flowing streams, small waterfalls and flooded paths and no end of water flowing from pipes and fountains in villages. No wonder Galicia, which we crossed into today, is so green.

To get to Galicia it was a slow and steady 1000 foot climb to a pass in the hills, winding slowly upwards under the cover of woods, crossing the streams mentioned above and eventually breaking out into the open amid tall heather and blue sky for the last half mile. I did the walk in the company of Helmut, a Belgian I first met in Salamanca, and we then continued down the valley on the other side, again through trees and along white sandy paths bordered by large moss covered stones. At a bar in the village of A Vilavella we parted. From here Helmut would make his way back to Belgium. I had another eight miles to do to get to my albergue.

The landscape now changed into one of undulating and rocky terrain, the track rising and falling from barren high points into small and narrow valleys. From the tops you could look out to the horizon over a Dartmoor-like landscape of small gulleys and rocky outcrops covered in the yellow, white and blue of gorses and heathers. At the low points you crossed rushing streams on flagstone bridges or followed along their edges amongst the green of the plants taking advantage of so much water.

For nearly three hours I followed the rise and fall of this rugged and isolated landscape before reaching and crossing a main road then paralleling it for a mile or so to the small town of A Gudiña. It is strung out along a road, bigger and more economically sound than the tiny villages I have seen in the last few days, villages that were old and full of character but with a noticeable number of houses derelict or empty. 

The albergue here is a large and modern concrete affair with a reception and sliding glass doors that I’m more used to seeing in hotels or high class shops. All those that left from Lubián are here and we have shared drinks and stories of our day. From this point though there are a few more albergues along the route giving choices of longer or shorter walking days. I think tomorrow I will opt for the thirteen mile rather than twenty two mile option as I am in no particular hurry to reach Santiago de Compostela. Others I think will be making the longer journey.