We woke up on an overcast day in our half empty public albuergue in Escamplero to the sound of rustling peregrinos. Quietly packing our things, we weren’t the last to leave but definitely not the first. Mom was still getting used to the daily packing and unpacking that was going to be our routine for the next three weeks. I waited in the small kitchen area eating food I brought from Oviedo yesterday as she got ready.
Our second day on the Camino started out at 9am filling our water bottles in the courtyard and heading out on the road. We would start out on pavement but it would be less than what we had the day before.
Our first stop today was at the Capella de Fatima, another small chapel on a tiny hill alongside the road. Surrounded by freshly mowed grass, we could peer into its small room through a tiny barred opening in the wooden door. This chapel didn’t have a porch area but a picnic table to the side offered a seat. It was still early so we didn’t stay long, just enough to help take pictures of a few peregrinos arriving at the same time.
The Camino here consisted of green forest on worn dirt paths, a stream with wooden bridge, curious horses leaning over barb wire fences, and pink rhododendrons that reminded us of home.
Our second stop was in Paladin, after navigating multiple intersections where the shells pointed in a different direction than the yellow arrows. It pays to not take those for granted, old shell markers tell a different story than new road signs and shiny tiles attached to the buildings that are generic and all face the same direction.
In town there was a home with a vending machine covered to match the stone wall next to it, we turned to visit the hotel and cafe, Villa Palatina around 11:20am. Most of our peregrinos from Escamplero were here sipping coffee. Meals times are all askew, just stop when you feel like it, eat when you feel like it. I enjoyed some coffee and a croissant, then some fresh squeezed orange juice. It appeared to be a relatively new albuergue and the patio has large and welcoming.
Leaving an hour later, we made a quick stop at a fuente (fountain) across from the hostel and continued on the Camino.
We soon had one of my favorite encounters on the Camino, school children out on a walk, yelling “buen camino” with the most enthusiasm and “COCHE” or “CAMION” on the road to warn all those within hearing distance. I snapped a selfie of Mom and I to capture them trailing behind us.
San Miguel beer cans are a common sight as litter along the road everywhere and purple morning glories trail up from the fields. It’s always interesting what you notice when you aren’t in a car. In Candamo we had another river crossing and the most interesting building built with an outcropping of the rocky cliff wall split down the middle.
The majority of the homes in the tiny villas we pass are a mix of rustic stone and wood with brightly painted doors. So far, most of the peregrinos we encounter speak Spanish.
As we approached Grado, a chapel called up on a hill to our left. We followed a group of four peregrinos up the paved road and stopped for a snack with a view of the valley. Two women and a father-son duo seemed to know each other and be traveling together but they kept to themselves. I took of a layer, the day had warmed up enough to not need my fleece or tights. We didn’t stay long, however, a real lunch beckoned ahead.
It was a long flat stretch into Grado with fields of tall grass and orange poppies. Sunflowers greeted us as we arrived at the town limits. Be careful not to just follow those in front of you, actual Camino takes a turn left first and then into town. Many peregrinoes who passed us were rushing into town to get to the albuergues but ended up missing the signs and we arrived in the town center before them.
We stopped at a cafe in the middle of town to eat lunch around 2pm. Here I learned that bocadillas equals a large sub sandwich every time. And the meat is sure to be fried. Lunch is usually the biggest meal of the day and folks will linger. I ended up chatting with gentleman named Tony (in Spanish). Over a cider, Tony talked about the town of Grado and we watched weary pilgrims wander from the local albuergues to find lunch after checking in. Mom and I debated our stop for the night and I called ahead to reserve in La Doriga about 5 more miles ahead.
It was a climb out of Grado and the skies threatened rain but it never materialized. The father-son duo passed us on the climb but we did not see them again in La Doriga so we guessed they stopped at the hostel in Villapanada.
We passed friendly cows hanging their chins over wire fences and it was a lovely view back down into Grado and the green rolling hills. Brightly colored plastic clothespins decorated empty laundry lines as we continued on. In the next villa a cute little self-service coffee stop sat on someone’s front porch and there were gardens filled with greens and beans.
We made it to La Doriga and Ca’ Pacita around 6:30pm. The front of the building held the bar and restaurant (it looked more like an eclectic hippy lounge). We had the cabin out in the back with the patio seating with two sets of bunk beds. The owner let us know we may have company but no one had reserved them yet.
After taking a shower and washing our clothes to hang to dry, we enjoyed a light dinner of ham and bread among the VW van posters and Christmas lights in the lounge. Chatting with the owner, Antonio, I found out that Tony called to check and make sure we had made it okay. They were old friends!
It began to rain as we went to bed, I was glad that the cabin had a cover to keep our laundry from being drenched. Not that it would most likely dry, damp clothes were sure to greet us in the morning with the humidity. The albuergue was quiet and no one came to take the empty beds.
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