Last 100 km on the Camino: Xunqueira de Ambia to Ourense

 "If you seek peace, be still, and listen to the whispers of nature."

Camino Sanabrés Stage 9 / Via de la Plata Stage 33

Today, the Via de la Plata and Camino Sanabrés arrived at the 100 km mark on the trail, meaning that we only have a few stages of walking left before reaching Santiago de Compostela!  Yet somehow it felt different than previous days on this Camino.  It began like many others, with a quick breakfast of bread, jam, and instant coffee in our room.  Last night was very peaceful, and with the cool country air wafting in through the open window, we slept pretty well.  However, when we stepped out onto the street at 6:30 AM, it was already warm outside, and we were immediately grateful for today's short stage to Ourense.

The first hint that things had changed appeared when we walked to the main square of Xunquiera de Ambia to have a look at the monastery there.  The old stone building with its Celtic knotwork designs and phoenix-like gargoyles looked beautiful, lit up and glowing in the early morning light.  However, in the corner of the bell tower was projected a large yellow Camino arrow pointing the way to Santiago. 

There was no doubt this was a Camino town.

Return to the Camino

We headed out down the narrow, winding, paved road, which was already busy with morning commuters.  Trees lined both sides of it, with quiet fields beyond.  At first, we were glad to detour off the pavement, but as the track devolved into a muddy mess, we wondered if it wouldn't have been better to keep our feet dry by staying on the road we were returning to shortly anyway.  Despite the muck, we found ourselves walking between mossy stone walls and noticed for the first time on this Camino the iconic purple blooming foxglove plants that we love in Galicia.

We were soon back on the road, heading towards he first of many small villages we would pass through today.  As we walked on throughout the morning, the sprawl of the city and its suburbs wove through the hills.  Even early, the heat predicted for the day could already be felt. Glad that we had gotten up and going early as it was clear that we had to get as much of the stage completed before the temperatures climbed into the high 30s. 

Unlike on previous days, we began to see a steady stream of other pilgrims on the road, both ahead and behind, although at first we didn't recognize any of them.  We quietly wondered where they had all come from, as we've only seen a few others out walking on the trail in the previous few days.

A Pousa Spain

When we got to the village of A Pousa it was still pretty early, so we were surprised to see an open bar, and even more surprised to see a couple of pilgrims sitting outside that we did recognize, but haven't run into since Merida.  Inside, the bar was decorated with Camino-themed artwork, and the owners were offering everyone a stamp for their passports.  At least for today, gone were the incredibly long stages with no services available. 

Evidently, other pilgrims were also wondering how so many people had appeared out of nowhere this morning.  As a couple, we hadn't seen since Merida asked rather pointedly how we had gotten to this point so fast.  Though fast would be a tough description for us, as it has been 26 days since we walked out of Merida on the Via de la Plata. Perhaps it was unintentional, but their tone heavily implied it was impossible for us to have walked here with our heavy packs, and they were highly skeptical of the claims of other pilgrims sitting around us having done so either. 

Yet, here they were as well, two elderly pilgrims with obvious weight and health issues, whom we hadn't seen in weeks.  The mysteries of the appearing and disappearing pilgrims on this trail continue to puzzle us, even here near the end. 

Later, we learned that this couple had, in fact, taken three weeks off, then caught a bus forward to walk the final 100 km. Apparently, they critiqued nearly every familiar face they encountered. It seemed clear that they were frustrated at not having been able to continue entirely on foot, while others had. As so often happens, people tend to judge most harshly in others what they struggle to accept in themselves.

After our first coffee break, we had several more hours of walking along the busy, paved road through pastoral countryside.  Every 1 to 2 kilometres, we would pass through another small village, and almost all of them had an open bar or supermarket.  It felt as if all the services we've been missing these past few weeks had been strung along the highway in this one stage! 

Lizard Temperatures

The downside of road walking in a relatively solid group of other pilgrims is that there are very few opportunities for bathroom breaks. Sean was getting rather desperate at one point, so we stopped in at another bar for a cold Aquarius and another break. 

It was only around 9:30 AM, but the sun was already beating down.  As we sat on the patio outside with another pilgrim couple, a small lizard scurried across the pavement.  Every day, the lizards come out to bask just when I begin to feel a little too hot for comfort, and today 'lizard time' was definitely a couple of hours earlier than usual. 

Village to Village

After this second break, we continued down the paved road, going from village to village.  The traffic gradually increased, and the homes got closer together.  We passed bars and restaurants with pilgrim-themed artwork outside, as well as several double-sided stone crosses.  It felt very much like the Camino was a part of the communities we were walking through in a way it hadn't been up until the past couple of days. 

As we followed the sidewalk deeper into suburbia, it struck us that the pilgrims we were walking with looked pretty shattered.  Many trudged along with hunched shoulders and bowed heads.  They looked worn, exhausted, and like they'd been fighting a war.  One man just ahead of us was kept wobbling and weaving, almost like he was drunk or suffering from heat stroke, and he paused frequently to look up at the sky, into someone's garden, and to simply stare off into the distance.  We wondered if we also looked just as beaten down as the rest - we certainly felt like it.

Arrows and Roads

As the morning progressed, we found the arrows pointing us back and forth across the increasingly busy highway.  Often, it felt like we were instructed to cross in the blindest corners, just where things get the most hectic.  In these places, we repeatedly found a pilgrim or two spinning in circles, looking down at the phone, clearly wondering if it was absolutely necessary to risk life and limb, or if they could continue on as they were. 

Perhaps we missed something by not weaving around the surrounding neighbourhoods, but in a few places, we simply continued straight down the road rather than crisscrossing it through the traffic. Though not following the arrows that had turned behind us we invariably found a set of arrows directing us into Ournese anyways.

Suburbs and Industry

Gradually, the neighbourhoods gave way to a rather unpleasant industrial sector.  We followed the sidewalk, and then a marked cycling route through warehouses and factories with complex exoskeletons that were spewing smelly steam and smoke out of multiple chimneys.  Above us, a brown smudge hung in the blue sky, making us wish we could choose not to breathe for a bit. 

The road beside us was bumper-to-bumper traffic, with city buses, lorries, cars, and motorcycles adding to the din of the industry.  Unexpectedly, in the midst of a busy roundabout, with a full view of the industrial sector, we found a small pilgrim shelter and rest area.  It didn't feel like a restful spot to stop, and by this point, the suburbs and neighbourhoods around Ourense began to blur together. 

Crossing Ourense along the River

After a particularly hairy road crossing, we passed a bus shelter with a cyclist inside, looking shell-shocked by the busyness and thoroughly overheated.  He looked how we felt. 

As a result, when we were presented with an option to deviate from the busy road and follow a sheltered riverside walk into Ourense, we took the treed alternative officially named the Paseo Fluvial. 

The first few blocks were a little grim, with a wet, muddy track tracing behind graffiti and garbage-strewn warehouses, making us wonder if we should head back up to more savoury surroundings.  However, we soon picked up a wide, paved pedestrian walkway filled with people out walking, jogging, cycling, and enjoying nature.

As we approached downtown and the historic quarter, the temperatures again began to rise.  By noon, it was 37 Celsius and still getting warmer.  At this point, we could very much appreciate why the guidebook describes this area and this town as the “frying pan of Galicia”.

Sweltering Albergue and Spanish Air Conditioning

Emerging from the shaded tree-lined corridor, we walked into downtown Ourense. On arrival, we found that the albergue was incredibly warm. Spanish pilgrims had sealed it up completely, closing all the windows because the wind, which to us felt like a blast furnace, was frio (cold), while other pilgrims looked broken and horrified by the heat.

To make matters worse, the sweltering albergue was filled with a relentless and overpowering smell.  The gathering funk and stench was the combined result of sweaty bodies, piles of unwashed hiking clothes, and shelves of heavily used boots, all contained in the sealed environment. As the Wise Pilgrim app notes, the albergue may be newly renovated, but it seems “purpose-built for Spanish tourists, not pilgrims.” Several of us, ourselves included, appealed to the host to reopen the windows and let in some air, but they simply shrugged and walked away.

It would not be long before we as well as several others, decided that we had to leave. We packed up our gear and set out once again into the streets. With temperatures in the region approaching 40°C, we headed to the main square and reserved a hotel with air conditioning.

By 2:00 PM, we walked to our hotel only to discover that the advertised air conditioning applied only to the lobby, not to the rooms. Worse still, our room was essentially a solarium on the top floor.  A room with a beautiful view, but lined with hot windows.  It seemed we simply could not catch a break with accommodations on this pilgrimage, whether in albergues or in highly rated hotels.

Lunch, Resupply and Cathedral de Ourense

Given the situation, we dropped off our backpacks and walked to the cathedral for a visit. Admission was 10 Euros for two pilgrims, and stepping inside felt like a gift. Although there was no cloister, the interior was blessedly cold, the chill of the stone walls soaking into our skin after the oppressive heat outside. It felt like heaven, and we could have happily stayed there forever.

We climbed the bell tower, enjoying the view, until the bells suddenly erupted at the half hour, their deafening clang catching us by surprise while we were still inside.

   

Afterward, we searched out a quiet, shaded spot where we lingered over a beer and a plate of patatas bravas. The potatoes were crisp and perfect, served with a spicy dip and a creamy garlic sauce that made them unforgettable. 

Later, we returned to our room to complete some of the day’s necessary tasks.  As Sean wrote his travel journal, I set off to do laundry.  An hour later, it was Sean’s turn in the heat of the afternoon, and he went out to pick up groceries.  By evening, we would make one final venture and visit the local Decathlon outdoor store before retreating once more from the heat.

Warnings of Things to Come

Feeling blessed for having arrived in Ourense, escaping the albergue and finding other accommodations, we were shocked to hear someone in the room next to ours weeping.   While it sounds nosy that we overheard her, the walls were so thin we truly had no means to not listen.  Over the next 20-30 minutes, she was on her phone in tears.  Her comments were that it was just too unbearably hot, that there were no places left in the albergues over the next few stages and that she felt that she had failed on pilgrimage because she had been forced to take the train back to Ourense.  She had no idea how to continue on.  

As though mirroring our own doubts and fears, it was unnerving to listen to her distress and know that these same challenges could undermine any pilgrim's journey at any time.  

Moments like these are a reminder that every pilgrim carries invisible struggles, exhaustion, disappointment, the weight of expectations, or simply the strain of the journey itself. The Camino may look effortless from the outside, but along the way it often asks more of us than we expect, and not all burdens are visible on someone’s back. 

As we sit in the sweltering heat, trying to decide what to do tomorrow, we feel like this Camino is giving us all one final endurance test.  We have been walking a long trail with very long stages, very few reliable services either at the end of the stages or in between, and with quite a few 'choke points' where there don't seem to be enough albergue beds to hold the volume of pilgrims currently on the trail. Now we are adding in difficult terrain, extreme heat, and no sleep.  How much harder can this get? This is the first Camino I've walked where I've not been optimistic about our ability to finish the final 100 km.  We'll see what happens.

“Can't see nothin' in front of me
Can't see nothin' coming up behind
I make my way through this darkness
I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me
Lost track of how far I've gone
How far I've gone, how high I've climbed
On my back's a sixty pound stone
On my shoulder a half mile line”

Bruce Springsteen, The Rising