Day 1 of hiking The Camino de Santiago began early, after a much-needed night of sleep following my “Day 0” journey to Spain.
Refreshed and rested, I awoke in Sarria with an energetic feeling of anticipation for the unknown of the days ahead.
I packed, unpacked, and repacked my day pack, fussing over the details.
“Will I need this or that before we arrive at the next stop?”
“Is it going to rain today? Should I bring gear? What’s the % chance? I should check the Weather app…”
“I hope this will be enough just-in-case bandaids. Maybe throw in 2 more just in case…”
“Should I carry this? Is it too heavy?”
“Where is my water bottle?”
“Will it get dark before we arrive? I don’t want to bring my headlamp unless it is…I’ll check the sunset time.”
“How necessary is an extra warm layer going to be?”
“Is this enough foot glide or should I put on more? Should I just bring it with me? What does this weigh?”
“HOW do I get this trekking pole tip on?!”
“FAK where did I stick my passport when I left the airport?!”
Natural.
Luckily, I was with my aunt, who was on day 25(ish) of hiking The Camino de Santiago, and definitely had answers to several of my anxious questions on what I would and would not need for the day.
My intrepid aunt. You’ll see her red backpack and Panama hat in many of my Camino photos to come.
I settled on the following day pack essentials:
(Check out this post on my Camino Packing List for descriptions and links to all of the exact products and items I used)
With our larger packs zipped and set for luggage forwarding and our day packs packed, we headed down to the hotel’s dining room for a quick and hearty Pilgrim’s Breakfast.
Coffee (ok, 2 coffees) + Protein + Carbs + A Full Water Bottle and we were off on my first day hiking The Camino de Santiago!
Sarria has existed since before the Middle Ages (at least the 12th century, if not older), and though it has modernized, the town definitely shows many indicators of its age, including hilltop castle ruins and medieval churches, giving the start of this day a distinctly ancient feel that would carry through the entire journey.
As we set off on the trail out of Sarria following hilly cobblestoned streets and climbing stone stairs through silent graveyards, we reached the edge of town and the forest beyond.
The morning was quiet, misty, and full of anticipation as the sun slowly rose over the trees and fields.
Sarria is one of the most popular starting points for The Camino, and we were quickly joined by 1, then 3 then 5 then 10 then more pilgrims (or “peregrinos”) also hiking The Camino de Santiago.
It gave a sudden warm sense of community, coming together in the still, early morning hours with so many strangers going the same way, with the same goal and the same journey ahead.
The quiet, rhythmic sounds of our footsteps quickly mingled with light, cheerful chatter in a myriad of languages as our path merged with those of more and more pilgrims. Our chatter became chuckles as the air warmed and mixed with the moos, bays, and clucks of the animals grazing in the farmland and barnyards we meandered through.
As we walked, the sun emerged, casting a vibrant shine on the dewy grass and heavy trees.
The sun lifted the lavender-hued fog to expose sturdy rows of silent giant windmills set on distant ridges against an electric blue sky. It evoked a feeling that something truly unique was about to unfold.
It is at this point that I should tell you of one of the most useful lessons I learned about myself while hiking The Camino de Santiago:
I have the ability to discern what type of animal made any particular pile of manure, simply from the wafting odors in the air. Sight unseen.
My aunt has the same power. I think it’s a family trait.
At this stage of the journey, the prevalence of manure of all kinds is fierce. Goat. Cow. Horse. Donkey. Chicken. Human.
It’s all there. And much of it is directly in the path. (watch your step!)
Upon discovering this powerful ability, we passed portions of every hour making declarations as to what kind of animal we were sensing in the wind from around the next corner. I gotta’ say- we were right about 95% of the time.
This first day of hiking The Camino de Santiago took us across neat rows of crops, through ancient gnarled forests, up hills and down gulleys, over expanses of open land that had no visible end, and into little farming villages that quietly exist only to serve and protect pilgrims hiking The Camino de Santiago.
Our cheerful pace brought us to lunchtime quickly.
Stopping at a small trail-side cafe (Mirador da Brea), I was first introduced to what’s known as the “Pilgrim’s Menu,” generally consisting of a short, low-priced list of simple but hearty meals.
In stops along The Camino, common items include sandwiches on enormous slices of homemade Spanish bread (called bocadillos), large mixed salads resembling the American Cobb Salad, but with a distinctly Spanish flair (called ensalada mixta), fresh fruits, and a refreshing and reviving bottled/canned Coca-Cola product called Aquarius, which lies somewhere between Gatorade and lemonade- but carbonated.
After a quick reviving bocadillo and Aquarius (and maybe a little chocolate) we set off again for the second half of the day’s hike with full bellies and a few new friends from the next table.
Passing through more magical countryside, we stopped to smell flowers, wonder at the scenery, pick apples from low branches, and place stones on markers and crosses for ourselves and in the name of loved ones on our minds.
Placing stones along The Way is a tradition of The Camino.
The stones are meant to represent one’s burdens being laid down and left along the trail so the pilgrim can move forward with a lighter spirit.
People leave stones for themselves and for their loved ones in all sorts of places along the way- on path markers, on crosses, on memorials, on walls, and anywhere a stone can be (respectfully) stuck.
About an hour before our destination in Portomarín, we stopped at a small, but well-appointed cafe/albergue called Mercadoiro set on a beautiful grassy knoll with a neatly trimmed border hedge, manicured raised flower beds, and overlooking a lush rolling hillside. Picturesque.
This was where I had my first taste of true Spanish sangria!
Holy crap it’s better than the sugary junk you get at restaurants in The US! Sweet, but not too sweet. Dense, but not thick. Flavorful, but not fake.
I usually steer away from sangria for all of these reasons, but the Spaniards do it right. This was my first, but definitely not my last glass of proper sangria on this trip!
On the approach to Portomarín, there is a fork in the path. A trail marker in the fork tells you that the left is the “Historico” (historical) way and the right is the “Secundario” (secondary) way.
The history nerd in me of course took the historical route.
In this case, historical also = harder. Now I totally get why there is a secondary way.
After turning left and following a very lovely flat stroll through rolling hills and vineyards with Portomarín looming on the hill in the distance, we reached what can only be described as a gully.
Entering the gully with a hard left turn and following between two ancient stone walls, the trail descended down the hillside in a very suddenly steep and rocky way. This was obviously a trench or gully that served as a flash flood pathway to the Miño river below as well as a steep, rapid, and rocky decline for unsuspecting Pilgrims.
In truth, it wasn’t all that bad, but at the very end of the very first day of hiking, my shaky knees and wobbly legs had QUITE a time navigating down those precariously smooth and practically vertical stones and grooves. It certainly slowed us down a bit!
Reaching the bottom, we were finally at the Miño river’s edge and on flat, solid ground.
An interesting note on the Miño river and the town of Portomarín’s history:
Portomarín was founded in Roman times as a crossing over the Miño river. Until the 1950s, the town sat on the banks of the river, much lower and closer to the river than its present location on the hillside.
In the late 1950s and ’60s, a reservoir brought hydro-powered electricity to the area, but the associated dam submerged the surviving medieval town in just a few years.
Luckily, the residents of the town were able to move their homes and parts of the town up the hillside, even disassembling two ancient churches, hauling the parts up the hill, and reassembling one entirely and the western façade of the other on higher ground.
Crossing the enormous modern bridge over the Miño river into Portomarín, you can still see the walls and outlines of the remnants of the submerged medieval town as well as what remains of the original 10th-century bridge. Pretty cool.
After crossing the bridge, pilgrims are met with exactly what they don’t want to see after a very long day of hiking:
An ENORMOUS set of stone stairs. Great.
The cool thing is that these stairs were once part of the original medieval bridge over the river, but were moved to higher ground during the town’s relocation, keeping them firmly in place throughout The Camino’s history as the last challenge of a day’s hike ending in Portomarín.
This evening’s hotel (Ferramenterio Portomarín) was perfect- modern, clean, stocked with local wine and sangria, and obviously well run.
Thankfully, it was conveniently located right on The Camino, allowing us to climb the stairs, take a sharp left (pause for photos), and head right in for a well-deserved glass (or maybe 3) of local wine and a gorgeous bowl of freshly marinated Spanish olives.
After relaxing as the sun set on the hotel’s cozy lobby balcony (a magnificent view over the river!) with our new friends made that day on the trail, we wolfed down a quick Pilgrim’s Dinner in the restaurant next door, sink-washed our clothes, hung them to dry, and turned in for a well-deserved night of rest ahead of another day hiking The Camino de Santiago.
Lights out.
I’m not sure if it was my exhaustion, the spirit of the ancient land around me, the Camino experience, or all of it combined, but I had several unusually vivid and profound dreams over the course of this night’s sleep.
I awoke with thoughts of my past and future swirling in my brain and the distinct feeling that I was shedding long-overdue burdens along The Way and that something was speaking to me through a newly opened pathway in my mind.
It would take the next few days of hiking to discover what it was.
Christmas in London
Hiking The Camino de Santiago: A Pilgrim’s Progress. Day 0, Getting There
“Hiking” Mt. Rainier
Sailing a Schooner on Elliott Bay
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