Day 2 of hiking the Camino de Santiago started early. We carefully packed our still-slightly-damp clothing (see my Camino laundry tips for details) and after a quick breakfast, we were off again.
We stepped into another misty morning with scores of other pilgrims also starting their day’s hike. Blending into the growing crowd, we descended out of the hillside town of Portomarín and crossed a small creek before hiking back up into the ancient wooded hills.
Surrounded by mammoth oak and chestnut trees, the day took on a familiar magical quality I would come to understand as
“that Camino feeling.”
The dense, otherworldly forest soon yielded to wide expanses of open fields, rolling hills, tiny towns, and long stretches of paved road dotted with tiny roadside albergues and cafes for pilgrims.
I walked most of the morning quietly contemplating my vivid dreams from the night before. I attempted to decipher their meaning and glean some sense of a lesson from what my brain communicated to my consciousness as I slept. I landed on a mantra that I would keep throughout the remainder of the hike and after returning home:
“‘The Way’ Is Forward. Leave The Past Behind You.”
After a quick stop for coffee with fellow pilgrims at Hostería de Gonzar just outside of Portomarín, the hazy morning faded into another sunny day.
We soon approached a trail highlight I had curiously anticipated since my (very light) Camino research began: Castro de Castromaior.
A short (but VERY uphill) detour from hiking The Camino de Santiago brought us to a hilltop, where 2,400 years ago, Iron Age locals built a large and sturdy fortress (aka a castro) and surrounded it with a series of defensive walls.
In 2004, archaeologists started the excavation process and uncovered the town-like fortress. At present, the site’s outermost edge is still enveloped by a ring of yet-to-be-excavated earthen mounds covering what archaeologists believe to contain the original fortress’s innermost walls.
Within this site, which provides stunning 360-degree views of the surrounding countryside, archaeologists have found evidence of three separate occupations. These include remnants of wood and thatch dwellings from the Iron Age (2,400 years ago) and stone structures from the Roman invasion (2,000 years ago). Pretty cool.
For me, the hilltop site of Castro de Castromaior evoked feelings of connection with ancient human history.
Following the remains of hallways once walked by ancient locals and stepping through what’s left of openings that were once doorways allowed my imagination to romp into the past.
I thought of the people 2,000 years ago who walked these same paths and touched these same stone walls. They went about their chores with thoughts of their present day’s struggles and hopes, never once considering me- the alien from the future- standing where they stood and marveling at the time that had passed between us.
I have a tendency to think this way when I visit historical sites. I always think of the array of events an ancient place has seen and try to put myself into the shoes of those who have stood in that exact spot throughout history to experience it as they did. Kinda blows my mind.
After taking in the incredible panoramic scenery from the hilltop site, we returned to the trail and resumed hiking the Camino de Santiago.
This stretch of hiking The Camino de Santiago is much like the rest, with mysterious forests, expansive fields quiet villages on rotation.
This day also happened to be my dad’s (my aunt’s brother’s) birthday.
Because of this, we spent a little extra time as we walked stopping in tiny ancient churches to light candles and leaving stones on monuments and crosses in his name along The Way.
This simple act of slowing down to step into corners of The Camino we blew past on the day before provided a greater sense of the religious, historical, and cultural significance of our journey.
Small details like marks and monuments remaining from the Knights Templar and quirky decor in locals’ gardens gave the afternoon an I spy game-like quality as we pointed left and right with “look over there!” and “what the heck is that?”
Meandering through timeworn villages and their seemingly immortal structures also allowed me to meditate on the sacred history of the land beneath our feet.
I became very aware of and grateful for the opportunity to light a candle or place a stone in this strange and sacred place as my dad went about his daily life 4,000 miles away.
Reaching Palas de Rei at the same time as a group of lovely ladies we’d met earlier, we stopped on a set of stone stairs on the edge of town to call the evening’s hotel (A Parada Das Bestas).
The hotel arranged for us to be picked up and driven the remainder of the distance. (The hotel is on the outskirts of town and would have meant another 5 miles of walking… no thanks).
After the promised taxi arrived and was promptly hijacked by a man also headed to the same hotel (*infuriating*), we were forced to call again and request another taxi.
Not wanting to risk our unhappiness at another stolen taxi, the owner of the hotel (named Suso Santiso) scrambled into town to pick us up in his very own big red van.
Not immediately aware of the hurry he was in, we noted the kitchen apron around his waist as we ambled into the van. When we jokingly asked if he was the hotel’s bartender, he just chuckled and said “yes” as he patiently waited for us to load the van. He then drove at breakneck speed back to the hotel.
This was the first of a series of wonderfully hospitable experiences at A Parada Das Bestas that have given it a firm spot as one of my favorite hotel stops while hiking The Camino de Santiago.
To be clear: he was not JUST the bartender. He was also the owner, the sommelier, the receptionist, the restaurant host, the waiter, and the kitchen’s sous-chef.
The apron around his waist was there because he left his hotel’s kitchen mid-dinner prep to pick up a group of silly women who were tired of waiting on a taxi. He drove like a bat out of hell through forests and fields back to the hotel because he had to help his wife (the chef) finish preparing an incredible dinner for their guests. In short, Suso and his wife María are hospitality saints.
Arriving at the beautifully restored 18th-century farmhouse, we were greeted by clean, quaint, low-ceilinged guest and common rooms. Charming antique bedding and furniture complemented exposed stone masonry walls.
After settling in, we were welcomed with glasses of gorgeous local wine (poured by- you guessed it- Suso himself) on a serene patio just off the kitchen. I think this is what heaven is like.
A Parada Das Bestas is one of those places where you feel grounded and connected to the soil beneath your feet. You can feel the centuries-old spirit of the place in every corner, inside and out.
Our provided evening meal was spectacular. Every dish was presented in gourmet style and served by the hands that made it.
Beautiful soups, stews, meats, bread, and fish were served before a final dessert course of homemade chocolate ice cream and cake.
They even prepared a dish of gluten-free bread for one of our party members with celiac.
The attention to flavor, detail, and presentation was unexpected and deeply appreciated after a long day of hiking.
After dinner, a few of the members of our party requested coffee before breakfast in the morning. Suso explained that this was not something that they normally did, but that he would work something out.
The next morning, each person who requested coffee before breakfast had a steaming personal carafe of freshly ground and brewed coffee waiting outside their door. This final small gesture of thoughtful generosity sealed A Parada Das Bestas as a place that will forever exist as a standard of hospitality in my mind.
With my aunt and I finally tucked into our iron-framed twin beds on opposite sides of a centuries-old stone room, I heard the sounds of other pilgrims walking along the old wooden floorboards of the room above ours and the bays and howls of farm dogs in the distant countryside. I was lulled into a restful sleep by the enveloping feeling of safety and coziness that seemed to emanate from the old stone walls around me.
Lights out. *creek, creek, woof, woof, awoooof…*
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