May the 27th
Vinhais to Soutochao
Vinhais to Soutochao
We found our things were almost dry as we packed them. We left the hostel and headed out of the town by the main road.
I walked with Janis till we came to Soutelo but I think it was just before the next village. I am not sure! I know we came to a junction on a main road and Janis wanted to try to stick to the book way and I decided I wanted to just stick to the tarmac road and hope to find my way. With luck we should meet up in Edral. Both books said the track was poorly marked. The villages were not marked clearly on either map or book. Nor did they seem to have the same spelling on some of the signposts!
I was not feeling 100% and didn't fancy walking dirt tracks over the mountains at the moment so we agreed to part. Janis waved as he walked up to the village that we could see close by, to later go down into a different valley on the other side, while I went downhill from here.
I was on a main road with very little traffic.
"It must lead to somewhere" I thought!
I have since found them on the bigger map of North Portugal that I was carrying at the time but one I rarely looked at! I remember the village name was Sobreiro. Here it had 'baixo' on the end I think. I found Sobreiro again later only this time it had 'cima' on the end! It turned out that they were two different villages. My book map had only the first name Sobreiro in bold type without the 'high' or 'low' attached in Portuguese.
I got to the bottom and found a junction but had no idea where either road went so I stuck to the bigger road going steeply uphill now! I was sweating and finding it hard going as I zigzaged my way up. I saw a man and asked where the road lead to. I could not get him to understand at all so kept going. Almost at the top of the hill, I found 4 men working on the road! My Spanish also confused them at first, but they said this road didn't lead to Verin! I needed to return to the bottom of the valley again and take a left turn at the junction and ask in the bar a few houses in from the junction. Swearing to myself I went back down the hill! That must have been at least 3 k out of my way and damn hard kilometres too, not a good start I thought as I turned left at the bottom. I found the bar ok but it was closed. A girl was unloading a car boot outside though so I went over and asked her.
She thought this road went to Edral!
'Ok I decided to take it and hope to find someone else to ask!' I never did! I wandered on for miles not seeing another living person! Eventually I came to a junction and it was signed but I had to search for the village name on my map and found it was out to my right. I reason I must be on the 103 according to my map book, if I kept walking I should arrive at Sandim well past Edral!
The north Portuguese map said at Edral!!!!
I had no idea how far it might be, nor was I sure this was the 103!!!
Too far now to turn back I plodded steadily on. I came down a hill and saw a tiny hamlet.
This was gorgeous country I was walking through, but when you are worrying about where you might be, it takes the shine off your day.
I saw a handsome cow as I came to the hamlet, then I spotted a few people looking my way but they shyly disappeared as I came to a little Bar, which was closed!
There was a wooden bench outside in the shade and I sat to rest and eat my bit of bread and chorizo. Soon folk arrived to chat and I found they were opening the bar especially for me! One lady could speak a little English. She was born in Switzerland and had married a man from this tiny village in the 70s I think she said. They were a fascinating bunch of folk, some from here and some like her from miles away. I wondered what stories they could all tell, but they seemed more interested in asking what I was doing out here! In many ways that was a hard question but I explained how I was on Camino!
Having quenched my thirst and eaten some packet cakes I waved goodbye to my new village friends and set off down the road into a wide valley, I seemed to be on its left side.
It was vast and beautiful and after a while I could see hamlets on the other side but I was never able to cross to them.
As the valley turned gently to the left, I found the road climbing again, on and on. Not a car passed me let alone another walker. I now felt the road was going to climb to the top and cross over. I was pulling my rucksack on its wheels and this climbing for miles was not easy! It was not hot, but I was sweating profusely when I saw a truck coming down the hill towards me. (Bomberos was written down the side) I waved him down, surely a fire truck driver would know where he came from and therefore where this road went I thought! A jovial man wound down his window as I walked in front of his small truck and up to his driver's side door. I asked if the road went to Edral in my poor Spanish. He looked blank! Maybe I needed to try saying it differently. I tried several attempts at the main words but he was no wiser. I pointed to the word Edral on my map book, and still he had no idea! I got out the bigger north Portuguese map, but still I had no success. He only spoke Portuguese and I should think a dialect! He was obviously sorry that he could not help me and we shook hands through the window. He waved as he drove off! Here I was in these rolling mountains and with little idea where I was and I could only keep walking! I got to the top, and walked a short way and came to a road junction. Lots of signs but damned if I could find one name from my map!
Then I saw Villar seco! I had seen that somewhere!!! I thought I had anyway, and turned right. It also said frontier and so Spain must be close I thought, but I was walking and trying to find it on the maps. The road stayed on the top of the mountain ridge and I had walked a couple of kilometres when I saw a lady walking towards me! She stopped and I tried to make her understand I wanted Sandim as I thought I must have passed Edral somehow. She still seemed unsure but said I should go back and take the road that I had been on and go over the top and down hill. Looking at the map I thought that she was probably right as my map showed a track as a dead end at Villar Seco, but if this was that track, it joined the main road after Sandim! It all didn't make much sense.
Back I went to the junction and there I found another post tucked around the corner with lots of names on but nothing like Sandim! Or was there? I was standing looking at my map book when a little hatch back car stopped. A man wound down the window and asked if he could help! He spoke a little Spanish and I pointed to Sandim on my map. He had no idea but he tapped in the name on a gadget by his inside mirror. After several attempts a map line appeared that showed a road junction in about a one kilometre then a curved line marking the 6 kms to Sandim.
"Come, I am not going there but I will take you" he kindly offered as he got out, opened the rear door pushed down the seats and grabbed my rucksack and stuffed it in the back!
I was tired and so relieved!
We took the turning at the junction and we wound along the top of another valley, then swept down and took a sharp right onto rough cobblestones and into the tiny hamlet of Sandin that was perched on the hillside. I got out and could see for miles. The road had ended at a hairpin bend that led into the narrow mud streets between the ancient stone houses! "Will you be ok now?" my fried asked.
"Yes" I said pointing!
For as I had got out there on a stone wall in front of me was a painted yellow arrow!
I said good bye to my new friend and we swapped Emails.
What a nice guy, he was the only new contact I made on this trip to email me when I got home!
He was turning his car around as I set off down the hill through the quaint village, full of yapping dogs warning of a stranger in town! I walked out the other side and down a very rough path. I had to put my rucksack onto my back as it was so rough. What I didn’t know until later was that I should not have come into the village at all! I should not have taken that sharp right into the village in the car but stayed on the road going down! Unknown to me it was marked well that way, whereas as is normal for me, I had found the hardest way! I reached the bottom and proceeded along the valley floor with difficulty. I came onto the road again eventually and crossed a bridge over a river, this was the Portuguese/Spanish border.
Signs said Contrabandista route. This was where goods had been regularly smuggled over the border not so many years ago, as here the border crossing was not permanently guarded. Here was a nice picnic spot with shade and tables by a lovely clear river. I went a bit further on the tarmac then followed the Contrabandista arrows, taking another dirt track. It stayed more or less level for a while then an arrow suddenly pointed up a goat track going up the side of the valley at about 45 degrees! There was no other choice, I grimaced, picked up the rucksack again and took the first step. I really struggled to keep my balance and not fall over backwards! Luckily in a few meters the path did veer right to a more climbable angle and then zigzagged up with a few more 45 degree bits at times. Struggling for breath, I came to a picnic spot with tables and here I took a welcome rest for a few minutes. I saw the road was a little way above me.
Fire had burnt through here not so long ago but the view was great all the way back to Sandim. If I looked the other way to the right I could see a waterfall tumbling down into a crevasse.
I should have liked to have spent a little more time here to look around but I needed to get to the top of the hill to see if I could get any more texts from Janis and Maisie. I had sent one to each of them from the junction where I had received the lift in the car saying I was going to Villar seco! I knew that had been wrong now. I continued up to the road and then up that. I noticed a small plank bridge leading to a pretty path in the trees over the other side of a rushing stream that was signed Contrabandista way. My rucksack was on its wheels again and a rough track up hill would be hard. I preferred to risk the non-existent traffic and a road with no pavement.
I suddenly received a text from Janis in it he said he had walked from Sandin on the road, and would wait for me at the border crossing below! I text back saying I was now at the top of the hill and would wait by the junction for him!
We were lucky he had received the text down there! Anyway he replied he would come up now, he said he had climbed up to here once and then gone all the way back down again to wait for me!!! I waited near the top by a junction with a freezing cold wind blowing on a sweaty body and no warm jumper for half an hour! I was so very pleased to see the smiling face of my tall lanky companion again when he came around the bend as I was trying to find shelter on the bank, in-between two bunches of stinging nettles! He told me he too had walked much further than it said in his book and thought he had probably walked 40 kms as did I. We were both very tired.
"Where to now?" he said!
"According to what I read somewhere a church has a porch in the next village, so lets go straight on and hope we can sleep there."
I must admit I remember little of the walk from here. I think that church must have been on the other road because we never saw one!
We eventually came into the tiny village of Soutochao absolutely shattered and oh so cold! I have no idea how much further we had walked but a good 4 or 5 kms! Soutochao is another of those villages high up near the top of the mountain! We came to a junction on the outskirts and took it up hill into the village. We were both out of water and thirsty! Here at another junction we saw a tap filling a cattle trough and tried to ask a lady in black, who had just put some cattle away for the night, if it was drinkable. She called up to a man who had come to a balcony two floors above us. Cesan could understand the local dialect, Castellano Spanish, Galicano and something else, possibly French he informed me when he came down, chuckle! Yes, we could fill our bottles from here. Now in Janis's book it said an albergue, but this did not look a place that might have one! We also asked him was there anywhere we could eat or buy food! The little lady had stayed to see the fun and he now turned to her and spoke in the local dialect. She replied and a discussion went on and next she disappeared into a nearby house while we sat on a wall talking of what we were doing here, and that there might be a place to stay if he could just find the right man! I seem to remember he used a mobile to phone someone! I remember with a smile, he never stopped talking a moment to take a breath! My head was spinning. The lady returned and presented us with a tinfoil wrapped parcel. I managed to say "Gracias". More discussions of which I could not understand a word, till Cesan got up and told me to leave my bag and go with him, Janis could stay here! We left and start walking and he explained as we passed an old school that this one day would be the albergue and under it the village computer room and a bar for the old folk. He now said the problem was, Paco already kept the booze in there now and might not want two peregrinos drinking it! I remembered we had a little red wine with us and I explained that we would be more inclined to leave something than carry more weight! Of course he knew that, but he said he would have to convince Paco!
By now we were almost out of the village and on the top of the mountain, with a freezing cold wind cutting me in two! It must have been a kilometre or more to here then we turned along the ridge past a cattle barn. Next on past a few widely spaced houses to my right until he stopped at one with a huge dog which, but for being tied to a long rope, would have torn us to limb from limb! My friend called out for Paco and after 5 or 6 minutes of dog bedlam, out came a chap in overalls!
"No he could not let us sleep with all his beer! No! He was sorry but no it wasn't possible! "What about the other school room? Ask Juana!"
Well that’s how it sounded to me. As we three walked back that’s more or less how my friend explained it to me too!
Paco was using a mobile all the time till we got to the old school. There he left us and we walked back to Janis.
Here we were told to pick up the rucksacks and follow him again down the other street. We had to find another key it seemed! I note it was not quite so far this time as we came to the outskirts the village. Here we stopped by a small one-story building standing on its own, front door to the road with a field behind it. We now had to wait for the key!
It's dark when up drove a lady in a car and passed a key out of the window and drove off. We seemed to have found a few more helpers and all would have been great only it’s the wrong key! More phone calls and we waited again, until back she came with another key.
This one did fit and the door was shouldered open. A switch was found and we saw before us a fairly large classroom, clean except for a bit of dust and cobwebs, two large desks and four wooden trestle benches around the walls and a tiled floor.
"Sorry, the toilet plumbing doesn't work" said the man who had unlocked, while he pulled the door of a small toilet shut in the corner of the room.
"No problema, he campo atrás" ("There is a field at the back") I laughed
They all left except our first friend Cesan and we found there was nice cooked sausages in the tinfoil. We had also been given some bread. We had olives, chorizo, also a pot of Yoghurt each from somewhere, so we had enough to eat and drink for tonight. We said goodbye to our friend and he made sure I knew where to leave the key in the morning. I promised I would phone him when I arrived in Santiago but sadly unknown to me that would not happen! As he was leaving, he also told us that we should be able to buy a fresh baked empanada if we knocked at the bakery on the top road as we left the village in the morning! That was good news, we could have breakfast tomorrow!
I walked with Janis till we came to Soutelo but I think it was just before the next village. I am not sure! I know we came to a junction on a main road and Janis wanted to try to stick to the book way and I decided I wanted to just stick to the tarmac road and hope to find my way. With luck we should meet up in Edral. Both books said the track was poorly marked. The villages were not marked clearly on either map or book. Nor did they seem to have the same spelling on some of the signposts!
I was not feeling 100% and didn't fancy walking dirt tracks over the mountains at the moment so we agreed to part. Janis waved as he walked up to the village that we could see close by, to later go down into a different valley on the other side, while I went downhill from here.
I was on a main road with very little traffic.
"It must lead to somewhere" I thought!
I have since found them on the bigger map of North Portugal that I was carrying at the time but one I rarely looked at! I remember the village name was Sobreiro. Here it had 'baixo' on the end I think. I found Sobreiro again later only this time it had 'cima' on the end! It turned out that they were two different villages. My book map had only the first name Sobreiro in bold type without the 'high' or 'low' attached in Portuguese.
I got to the bottom and found a junction but had no idea where either road went so I stuck to the bigger road going steeply uphill now! I was sweating and finding it hard going as I zigzaged my way up. I saw a man and asked where the road lead to. I could not get him to understand at all so kept going. Almost at the top of the hill, I found 4 men working on the road! My Spanish also confused them at first, but they said this road didn't lead to Verin! I needed to return to the bottom of the valley again and take a left turn at the junction and ask in the bar a few houses in from the junction. Swearing to myself I went back down the hill! That must have been at least 3 k out of my way and damn hard kilometres too, not a good start I thought as I turned left at the bottom. I found the bar ok but it was closed. A girl was unloading a car boot outside though so I went over and asked her.
She thought this road went to Edral!
'Ok I decided to take it and hope to find someone else to ask!' I never did! I wandered on for miles not seeing another living person! Eventually I came to a junction and it was signed but I had to search for the village name on my map and found it was out to my right. I reason I must be on the 103 according to my map book, if I kept walking I should arrive at Sandim well past Edral!
The north Portuguese map said at Edral!!!!
I had no idea how far it might be, nor was I sure this was the 103!!!
Too far now to turn back I plodded steadily on. I came down a hill and saw a tiny hamlet.
This was gorgeous country I was walking through, but when you are worrying about where you might be, it takes the shine off your day.
I saw a handsome cow as I came to the hamlet, then I spotted a few people looking my way but they shyly disappeared as I came to a little Bar, which was closed!
There was a wooden bench outside in the shade and I sat to rest and eat my bit of bread and chorizo. Soon folk arrived to chat and I found they were opening the bar especially for me! One lady could speak a little English. She was born in Switzerland and had married a man from this tiny village in the 70s I think she said. They were a fascinating bunch of folk, some from here and some like her from miles away. I wondered what stories they could all tell, but they seemed more interested in asking what I was doing out here! In many ways that was a hard question but I explained how I was on Camino!
Having quenched my thirst and eaten some packet cakes I waved goodbye to my new village friends and set off down the road into a wide valley, I seemed to be on its left side.
It was vast and beautiful and after a while I could see hamlets on the other side but I was never able to cross to them.
As the valley turned gently to the left, I found the road climbing again, on and on. Not a car passed me let alone another walker. I now felt the road was going to climb to the top and cross over. I was pulling my rucksack on its wheels and this climbing for miles was not easy! It was not hot, but I was sweating profusely when I saw a truck coming down the hill towards me. (Bomberos was written down the side) I waved him down, surely a fire truck driver would know where he came from and therefore where this road went I thought! A jovial man wound down his window as I walked in front of his small truck and up to his driver's side door. I asked if the road went to Edral in my poor Spanish. He looked blank! Maybe I needed to try saying it differently. I tried several attempts at the main words but he was no wiser. I pointed to the word Edral on my map book, and still he had no idea! I got out the bigger north Portuguese map, but still I had no success. He only spoke Portuguese and I should think a dialect! He was obviously sorry that he could not help me and we shook hands through the window. He waved as he drove off! Here I was in these rolling mountains and with little idea where I was and I could only keep walking! I got to the top, and walked a short way and came to a road junction. Lots of signs but damned if I could find one name from my map!
Then I saw Villar seco! I had seen that somewhere!!! I thought I had anyway, and turned right. It also said frontier and so Spain must be close I thought, but I was walking and trying to find it on the maps. The road stayed on the top of the mountain ridge and I had walked a couple of kilometres when I saw a lady walking towards me! She stopped and I tried to make her understand I wanted Sandim as I thought I must have passed Edral somehow. She still seemed unsure but said I should go back and take the road that I had been on and go over the top and down hill. Looking at the map I thought that she was probably right as my map showed a track as a dead end at Villar Seco, but if this was that track, it joined the main road after Sandim! It all didn't make much sense.
Back I went to the junction and there I found another post tucked around the corner with lots of names on but nothing like Sandim! Or was there? I was standing looking at my map book when a little hatch back car stopped. A man wound down the window and asked if he could help! He spoke a little Spanish and I pointed to Sandim on my map. He had no idea but he tapped in the name on a gadget by his inside mirror. After several attempts a map line appeared that showed a road junction in about a one kilometre then a curved line marking the 6 kms to Sandim."Come, I am not going there but I will take you" he kindly offered as he got out, opened the rear door pushed down the seats and grabbed my rucksack and stuffed it in the back!
I was tired and so relieved!
We took the turning at the junction and we wound along the top of another valley, then swept down and took a sharp right onto rough cobblestones and into the tiny hamlet of Sandin that was perched on the hillside. I got out and could see for miles. The road had ended at a hairpin bend that led into the narrow mud streets between the ancient stone houses! "Will you be ok now?" my fried asked.
"Yes" I said pointing!
For as I had got out there on a stone wall in front of me was a painted yellow arrow!
I said good bye to my new friend and we swapped Emails.
What a nice guy, he was the only new contact I made on this trip to email me when I got home!
He was turning his car around as I set off down the hill through the quaint village, full of yapping dogs warning of a stranger in town! I walked out the other side and down a very rough path. I had to put my rucksack onto my back as it was so rough. What I didn’t know until later was that I should not have come into the village at all! I should not have taken that sharp right into the village in the car but stayed on the road going down! Unknown to me it was marked well that way, whereas as is normal for me, I had found the hardest way! I reached the bottom and proceeded along the valley floor with difficulty. I came onto the road again eventually and crossed a bridge over a river, this was the Portuguese/Spanish border.
Signs said Contrabandista route. This was where goods had been regularly smuggled over the border not so many years ago, as here the border crossing was not permanently guarded. Here was a nice picnic spot with shade and tables by a lovely clear river. I went a bit further on the tarmac then followed the Contrabandista arrows, taking another dirt track. It stayed more or less level for a while then an arrow suddenly pointed up a goat track going up the side of the valley at about 45 degrees! There was no other choice, I grimaced, picked up the rucksack again and took the first step. I really struggled to keep my balance and not fall over backwards! Luckily in a few meters the path did veer right to a more climbable angle and then zigzagged up with a few more 45 degree bits at times. Struggling for breath, I came to a picnic spot with tables and here I took a welcome rest for a few minutes. I saw the road was a little way above me.
Fire had burnt through here not so long ago but the view was great all the way back to Sandim. If I looked the other way to the right I could see a waterfall tumbling down into a crevasse.
I should have liked to have spent a little more time here to look around but I needed to get to the top of the hill to see if I could get any more texts from Janis and Maisie. I had sent one to each of them from the junction where I had received the lift in the car saying I was going to Villar seco! I knew that had been wrong now. I continued up to the road and then up that. I noticed a small plank bridge leading to a pretty path in the trees over the other side of a rushing stream that was signed Contrabandista way. My rucksack was on its wheels again and a rough track up hill would be hard. I preferred to risk the non-existent traffic and a road with no pavement.
I suddenly received a text from Janis in it he said he had walked from Sandin on the road, and would wait for me at the border crossing below! I text back saying I was now at the top of the hill and would wait by the junction for him!
We were lucky he had received the text down there! Anyway he replied he would come up now, he said he had climbed up to here once and then gone all the way back down again to wait for me!!! I waited near the top by a junction with a freezing cold wind blowing on a sweaty body and no warm jumper for half an hour! I was so very pleased to see the smiling face of my tall lanky companion again when he came around the bend as I was trying to find shelter on the bank, in-between two bunches of stinging nettles! He told me he too had walked much further than it said in his book and thought he had probably walked 40 kms as did I. We were both very tired.
"Where to now?" he said!
"According to what I read somewhere a church has a porch in the next village, so lets go straight on and hope we can sleep there."
I must admit I remember little of the walk from here. I think that church must have been on the other road because we never saw one!
We eventually came into the tiny village of Soutochao absolutely shattered and oh so cold! I have no idea how much further we had walked but a good 4 or 5 kms! Soutochao is another of those villages high up near the top of the mountain! We came to a junction on the outskirts and took it up hill into the village. We were both out of water and thirsty! Here at another junction we saw a tap filling a cattle trough and tried to ask a lady in black, who had just put some cattle away for the night, if it was drinkable. She called up to a man who had come to a balcony two floors above us. Cesan could understand the local dialect, Castellano Spanish, Galicano and something else, possibly French he informed me when he came down, chuckle! Yes, we could fill our bottles from here. Now in Janis's book it said an albergue, but this did not look a place that might have one! We also asked him was there anywhere we could eat or buy food! The little lady had stayed to see the fun and he now turned to her and spoke in the local dialect. She replied and a discussion went on and next she disappeared into a nearby house while we sat on a wall talking of what we were doing here, and that there might be a place to stay if he could just find the right man! I seem to remember he used a mobile to phone someone! I remember with a smile, he never stopped talking a moment to take a breath! My head was spinning. The lady returned and presented us with a tinfoil wrapped parcel. I managed to say "Gracias". More discussions of which I could not understand a word, till Cesan got up and told me to leave my bag and go with him, Janis could stay here! We left and start walking and he explained as we passed an old school that this one day would be the albergue and under it the village computer room and a bar for the old folk. He now said the problem was, Paco already kept the booze in there now and might not want two peregrinos drinking it! I remembered we had a little red wine with us and I explained that we would be more inclined to leave something than carry more weight! Of course he knew that, but he said he would have to convince Paco!
By now we were almost out of the village and on the top of the mountain, with a freezing cold wind cutting me in two! It must have been a kilometre or more to here then we turned along the ridge past a cattle barn. Next on past a few widely spaced houses to my right until he stopped at one with a huge dog which, but for being tied to a long rope, would have torn us to limb from limb! My friend called out for Paco and after 5 or 6 minutes of dog bedlam, out came a chap in overalls!
"No he could not let us sleep with all his beer! No! He was sorry but no it wasn't possible! "What about the other school room? Ask Juana!"
Well that’s how it sounded to me. As we three walked back that’s more or less how my friend explained it to me too!
Paco was using a mobile all the time till we got to the old school. There he left us and we walked back to Janis.
Here we were told to pick up the rucksacks and follow him again down the other street. We had to find another key it seemed! I note it was not quite so far this time as we came to the outskirts the village. Here we stopped by a small one-story building standing on its own, front door to the road with a field behind it. We now had to wait for the key!
It's dark when up drove a lady in a car and passed a key out of the window and drove off. We seemed to have found a few more helpers and all would have been great only it’s the wrong key! More phone calls and we waited again, until back she came with another key.
This one did fit and the door was shouldered open. A switch was found and we saw before us a fairly large classroom, clean except for a bit of dust and cobwebs, two large desks and four wooden trestle benches around the walls and a tiled floor.
"Sorry, the toilet plumbing doesn't work" said the man who had unlocked, while he pulled the door of a small toilet shut in the corner of the room.
"No problema, he campo atrás" ("There is a field at the back") I laughed
They all left except our first friend Cesan and we found there was nice cooked sausages in the tinfoil. We had also been given some bread. We had olives, chorizo, also a pot of Yoghurt each from somewhere, so we had enough to eat and drink for tonight. We said goodbye to our friend and he made sure I knew where to leave the key in the morning. I promised I would phone him when I arrived in Santiago but sadly unknown to me that would not happen! As he was leaving, he also told us that we should be able to buy a fresh baked empanada if we knocked at the bakery on the top road as we left the village in the morning! That was good news, we could have breakfast tomorrow!
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