Day 49: The Most Shocking Vending Machine of All!

September 29: I woke up and, once again, got a relatively late start. 

That morning, the trail wound through the good-sized town of Ponferrada. The walk into town wasn’t particularly noteworthy or pleasant—at least not until I reached near the core of the town, turned a corner, and saw a magnificent castle with a drawbridge and everything! The Castillo de los Templarios. I took photos of it, then walked up to the entrance booth spontaneously to find out how much it would cost to get in. Six euros. “Any pilgrim discounts?” I asked the young, clean-cut man manning the entrance booth. He shook his head sadly. Well, six euros wasn’t really all that much, and I decided to do it anyhow. I’ve been kind of cheap so far on this trip, avoiding sights that cost money to enter, but when was I ever going to be back here again? Part of the reason I wanted to do this trail was for the history along this ancient pilgrimage route, and there had to be a lot of history at this castle! The man at the entrance booth said I could put my pack behind his kiosk so I wouldn’t have to carry it around the castle, and added my pack to several that were already there.

Then I explored the castle for the next hour or two, taking lots of photos and reading all of the displays which they conveniently had listed in Spanish and in English. Not much to report except that I’m glad I paid the six euros. It was a nice chance from just walking all day long. A distraction from my main job every day. =)

On my way out of Ponferrada, I stopped at a grocery store to resupply, then I sat down at a bench outside of it to rest a bit and eat some of my newfound snack food and a big bottle of Coke. I’d been sitting there for about ten minutes when an old lady walked up to me and asked me, “Are you a pilgrim on your way to Santiago?” (In Spanish, of course.)

I answered, “Yes, I am.” She then excitedly stammered out more Spanish, but too quickly for me to follow along, then grabbed my hand, opened it, and put in it a two euro coin. I tried to explain that I didn’t need the money, but she would have none of it and insisted I keep it, so I did. I was rather amused at the whole incident. She knew I wasn’t homeless or anything. I’m not sure if she expected me to spend it on anything in particular, but I went along and pocketed the money for later use.

Late in the afternoon, the trail passed through the town of Camponaraya, when a noticed a few vending machines against some buildings on the right side of the sidewalk, and a cold drink did sound very good good at the time. Not to mention that I had a new two-euro coin burning a hole in my pocket. =) So I looked at the options in the first vending machine, moved over to the next one and perused the options at that one, then moved over to the last one and noticed one of the slots had handcuffs in them. That’s a weird thing to find in a vending machine, I thought.

I was a little slow to figure out the whole handcuff thing—until I noticed some condoms were also for sale at the vending machine. The handcuffs were sex toys! It should have been obvious as soon as I saw the handcuffs—the picture on the packaging had a very “filled-out” woman on it without any clothing at all. I had also failed to read the smaller text at the bottom of the package that said, “with two keys for the adventurous types!” (Said it in English, no less!)

Oh, how funny…. I looked around the vending machine some more and quickly realized that the top three rows of the vending machine were all filled with various sex toys: Dice you roll that tell you what to “do” to a partner, vibrators, and some sort of egg shaped device labeled “Masturbador para hombres.” I had no idea what that was used for, or how it was supposed to be used, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know. And for those who like to smoke after sex, there was even a device for smoking weed.

But the item that ultimately got my attention the most, the one that had me standing on the sidewalk with my hand over my mouth and saying, “OH MY GOD!!!!” was Storming Stella: “The sassy sheep likes it hard and takes it deep!” It was a 12” blow-up toy with a “rear love hole.” I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was around, a little embarrassed at what I was seeing. But nobody was around. I looked at the sheep again and noticed the packaging marked it as part of a “miniature series”—and I couldn’t help but wonder what other animals were part of this particular series. Other farm animals? Or would they also have included pets like dogs or cats? But then, I had to admit to myself, I probably really didn’t want to know. Whatever they were, they didn’t make it into this vending machine.

How could this stuff just be sitting in plain view for the entire world to see? How does a parent explain to their five year old walking by that the blow up sheep is not a toy appropriate for them? Good grief.

Just below the handcuffs were gummi bears. Sex toy? Or candy? Hmm…. hard call…. ;o)

I took photos—how could I not take photos?!—giggling to myself. Ultimately, I went back to a previous vending machine—the one with cold drinks—and bought a bottle of Coke with the two-euro coin the old lady in Ponferrada gave me.

I set up camp outside of town, surrounded by vineyards. It had been awhile since I’d seen vineyards—the Meseta mostly just grew various types of grain crops—and watched the sun set.

Castillo de los Templarios—my castle detour. For six euros, it was worth it! =)

The castle did have a “moat,” but it was dry!

Looking down at the entrance from the ramparts.

Some pilgrims walk past the castle down below.
(I have no idea who these people are—just that they’re
obviously pilgrims following the trail.)

The clock tower in Ponferrada.

A roundabout on my way out of Ponferrada.

A small church on the way out of Ponferrada.

Flowers in bloom along the trail.

House decorations along the trail.

The top three rows of this vending machine held
quite a surprise!

Yeah, I know, you can’t see much in that last photo.
So that’s why I took closeups! =)

The dice of love… The one on the left has “cuello” (neck) and
”orejas” (ears). The one on the right has “tocar” (to touch)
and “chupar”—which I later had to look up in my
Spanish-English dictionary since it wasn’t a work I knew.
It means “to suck.”

I was a little slow picking up the fact that these cuffs
weren’t for cops! =)

And (to me, at least), the most shocking of all the shocking
items in the vending machine! Just 5 euros, folks! =)

This was actually the least shocking thing I
saw in Camponaraya. =)

Just in case you needed a sign.

Crossing a bridge over a busy highway.

Day 48: La Cruz de Ferro

September 28: I woke up to a slight sprinkle—a huge surprise since I was not expecting rain at all! I had already thrown my tarp over night during the night, wrapped around me like a blanket to help keep warm in the increasingly cold weather, but I adjusted it to cover my other gear that was sitting out (shoes, laptop, etc.) and keep everything dry. The sprinkle didn’t amount to much, though, and quit as quickly as it began. None of my gear was wet by the time I finally got up for the morning.

The big event for today was La Crus de Ferro—the highest point on the Camino Frances at 4,940 feet above sea level. Yeah, I know, it’s not exactly going to cause altitude sickness in anyone! =)

The trail climbed slowly and steadily upwards all morning long to the highpoint—a surprisingly easy walk for a highpoint.

And the cross was crowded with other pilgrims. Most of them seemed to be part of some sort of massive group of bicyclists. The bicyclists outnumbers those of us on foot by a wide margin—the first time I’d seen that on the trail, and it seriously annoyed me. Not the bicyclists per se, but just the sheer volume of them. I felt claustrophic with so many people there, and having them all haul their bicycles to the top of the mound didn’t help matters since they required so much room around them.

It was also the first time I realized that I’d never seen anyone bicycling by themselves. You’ll see pilgrims on foot hiking alone all the time. A huge number of people on foot hike alone—at least for some of the day—but I got to thinking that I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bicyclist riding by themselves. Invariable, when a bicyclist comes up from behind me on the trail and passes me, I move over automatically because I know there’s going to be at least a few more bicycles passing within the next minute. I wonder why that is? Is bicycling alone considered dangerous?

But the sheer volume of the bicyclists at the top of the world just annoyed me. Even the Cruz de Ferro (“the iron cross”) was less impressive than I had hoped. I’d seen countless photos of this monument, and it’s even used in the movie The Way, but for being the highest point on the trail, the views weren’t nearly as spectacular as the Pyrenees. (And that’s not even because of the overhanging clouds—the visibility downward was still quite clear!) The monument seemed more like a dump than something special. In a lot of ways, it was a dump—gloves, boots, notes, photographs, and various items littered the place. I threw my small rock into the pile—carried all the way since Le Puy—and was glad to be rid of it. Can’t believe I carried that stupid rock for this ugly monument. I was almost tempted to keep the rock for a better place—that viewpoint over Astorga would have been nice, except that it was now well behind me. But there would be other places ahead. But I didn’t want to carry the rock anymore either so I added it to the rock pile and wished it luck.

The entire day looked like it could rain, but the rain held off. I debated throughout the day with myself whether I wanted to camp out another night or risk camping in rain, but when I walked into the town of Molinaseca, it crossed over a beautiful, ancient bridge and into an equally charming but small town that I instantly fell for and decided I would stay there at an alburgue. I really liked this town, and by golly, I was going to spend the night in it!

At the far end of town, I saw a billboard for a hotel saying that they also had shared rooms—4 beds to a room for 15 euros. For hostels, 15 euros would be on the expensive side, but I liked the idea of having a room with a maximum of only three other people. Not private, exactly, but a lot less noisy and crowded than a room with a dozen or more people in it. And they had free wi-fi to boot. So that sealed the deal for me. I booked myself into one of the shared rooms at the hotel.

The room was a regular hotel room, large enough to comfortably fit a queen-sized bed. But there wasn’t a queen sized bed in the room. Instead, they squeezed in four single-sized beds. And a mini-fridge. A mini-fridge! I hadn’t seen one of those at any of the places I’ve ever stayed in Europe! I took a bed by the window and made use of the toilet and shower before anyone else arrived.

And as it turned out, absolutely nobody else ever arrived at the hotel room, so I wound up having the entire room (and bathroom) to myself! For all intents and purposes, I had an entire hotel room to myself—a fairly nice one, at that—for a measly 15 euros. Awesome. *nodding* =)

I’m not sure what the rainbows are about, but I don’t
think they are official waymarks! =)

The streets of Rabanal.

A rather elaborate fountain!

This little pool seemed like an unexpected place to find it,
out here in the middle of nowhere.

Some people carry their packs. Some people drag them.
This person did both! =)

So… many… people….

La Cruz de Ferro may have been crowded, but the ground around it
wasn’t quite so bad. I took this photo from the top of the mound,
facing away from the trail.

Time to add the stupid little rock I carried all the way
from Le Puy to the Cruz de Ferro.

I just love this sign. =) (Which also makes a brief appearance in
the movie, The Way.)

Will it rain, or will it go?

The trail up to La Cruz de Ferro was mellow and easy, but the
trail down was steep and considerably more difficult to traverse.
But the views were also better!

The streets of Acebo.

A bicycle monument.

Pilgrims on foot got to go off-road here. Bicycles,
it was suggested, should stay on the road. =)

And through the small town of Riego de Ambros.

Mud on the trail.

The streets of Molinaseca.

My private room for the night! =)

The bridge crossing into Molinaseca.

Day 47: Camping near Astorga

September 27: Out of Hospital del Orbigo, the trail once again split into a choice between a busy road walk or a scenic alternative path away from busy roads, and once again, I chose the alternative. I saw a lot more pilgrims taking this alternative than I usually did, and I’m not sure why there was such a difference. Although this alternative path was well-marked at the junction—most of them were not. Perhaps that played a roll? Whatever the reason, it seemed like an unusually large percentage of pilgrims actually took the alternative path. Maybe not a majority, but a lot more than I normally would see.

 

The big town for today was Astorga, which I reached late in the morning. The path into Astorga passes over a spectacular viewpoint overlooking the town next to a giant cross where I stopped to rest and met two people from France who had scraped a giant “1000 km” into the dirt with a stick.

 

“We started in Figeac!” they told me in heavily accented English, excited. “We’ve now walked 1,000 kilometers!”

 

“Congratulations!” I told them. “That’s a long distance! And I know, because I started in Le Puy and walked through Figeac too!”

 

They seemed slightly taken aback by this revelation. “You started in Le Puy-en-Velay?”

 

“Yes,” I answered. “And walked right through Figeac along the way! So I know exactly where you started from!”

 

“But then you’ve already hiked more than 1,000 kilometers.”

 

“Yes,” I replied again. “I passed my 1,000 kilometer mark almost 300 kilometers ago.”

 

You could see the disappointment seeping through their faces, obviously feeling one-upped. I didn’t mean for that to happen—I wasn’t trying to brag that I had gone farther than they did—just that I understood what a big accomplishment it was to walk 1,000 kilometers. Of course, they could have had no idea that out of the thousands of people walking the trail, the first person they grab to celebrate their milestone wound up walking from an even longer distance away. In fact, I was more than a little surprised when I learned they had started so deep in France—I hadn’t met anyone who started before Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port in weeks. Those of us who started deep into France were definitely a rarity on the trail.

 

I used their camera to take photos of them by their 1000 kilometer scratching in the dirt. That was the reason they first intercepted me—to ask if I would take a photo of them together by their dirt graffiti. I still felt a little bad for accidentally one-upping them, however, but they seemed to forgive me for the slight.

 

I decided to eat lunch in Astorga, in front of the cathedral which, from the exterior, looked absolutely beautiful. I also read my Kindle and killed some time before pushing onward, ever onward. Most of the other pilgrims I saw waking into town were in search of the alburgue, already planning to stop for the day. It was still too early for me to quit, though, so I kept going.

I stopped by the water facet in El Ganso to cook dinner. Originally, I didn’t plan to do this, but this would be the last water source until I planned to set up camp for the night and I wanted to fill up all of my bottles for the night so I had enough to cook dinner and eat breakfast in the morning. But when I looked for my plastic water bottle I’d carried all the way since Le Puy, I couldn’t find it. It was missing. If I had to guess, it probably rolled under the bed at my hotel room the night before and I missed it before I left. In any case, the maximum water capacity I could now carry was seriously compromised. I wouldn’t have enough water for both dinner and breakfast!

 

Which meant I quickly had to scramble to Plan B: I cooked dinner in El Ganso next to the water facet. Afterwards, I brushed my teeth. And now I only needed enough water for breakfast and to get me to the next town, which wasn’t particularly far. No problem! =)

On my map, it looked like the trail followed more-or-less close to a paved road, but it passed by a green area that usually meant lots of trees—which also meant it would likely be easy to find a private, out-of-the-way place to camp.

 

By now, a couple of hours before sunset, the trail was empty of pilgrims. They’d all stopped in alburgues already so I had the trail to myself. When I reached the trees, I kept my eyes open for good places to camp  The trees were pretty dense, though, and I couldn’t see very far into them.  I found a suitable place to camp and went about my business. 

 

Then I  wrote in my journal and read my Kindle for the rest of the night.

 

Kind of a creepy little pilgrim statue….

 

The little shack on the left is a small drink/snack stand for pilgrims
passing by.

 

Wonderful views from the cross overlooking Astorga!

 

These two had just walked 1,000 kilometers from
Figeac, deep in France, and they were pretty excited about
the milestone until they met me. =)

 

Wonderful views walking into Astorga. One thing to note in this photo
are all those mountains in the background. I’m definitely not
in the Meseta anymore!

 

A pedestrian overpass that crosses over some train tracks.
Sometimes you just feel like you’re waking in circles and not getting
anywhere. That’s what these bridges feel like. =)

 

A more modern-day kind of pilgrim statue.

 

A church in Astorga.

 

Who can’t just adore this little fellow? =)

 

I don’t remember what this building in Astorga was for.
But it sure is pretty!

 

The cathedral in Astorga.

 

A more modern-day church along the trail.

 

A small, wayside church along the route.

 

 

 

I like the addition of the rainbow! =)

 

Just in case you get tired of walking, there’s always a Plan B. =)