Rain, Red Dirt, and a Scenic Route to Astorga
I woke in the middle of the night to the sound of rain hitting the open windows, a sudden chill in the breeze reminding me it had arrived. Reluctantly, I shut the window closest to my bed, knowing the room would soon feel stuffy. The rain helped mask the snoring around me, and I fell back asleep. We had agreed to wake early to beat the heat, and a few hours later, I was up and getting ready.
Walking out of the village in darkness, my head torch illuminated the straight, paved road ahead. The sun eventually broke free from thick clouds, casting light on endless farmlands as I zig-zagged along mud-filled dirt paths. Crissi's footprints guided me at times, but I pushed forward toward Villabente, passing lumber warehouses and train tracks along the way. The goal was Hospital de Orbigo, where I finally caught up with Crissi and convinced her to take the scenic route through hills and trees rather than the highway.
The scenic route offered relief from the monotony of pavement. Red dirt paths stretched endlessly through forests and fields, dotted with strange insects and rolling hills. We stopped at Casa de Los Dioses, a trail angel's home offering free food, drinks, and shaded seating. Signatures from pilgrims lined the house walls, and the host's humor added a memorable touch to the stop. Soon after, we caught glimpses of Astorga from a hilltop cross and passed through San Justo de la Vega on our way into the city.
Navigating the train track ramps into Astorga tested patience, but we finally arrived at a five-euro albergue with amazing views from the top floor. The amenities were basic at best. No outlets near the beds, scalding hot showers, tiny toilet stalls, and poor air circulation. But the price and location made it worthwhile. After a quick gear repack, I felt the first real pangs in my knee and picked up a brace along with some cream for an infected finger, both of which were lifesavers for the rest of the Camino.
In the evening, Cerstin invited me to dinner with other pilgrims. We shared pancakes and "real" German Kriek beer, laughing and bonding over food and stories. Outside, another storm rolled through, soaking clothes hung to dry and reminding us how unpredictable the weather can be. Despite the heat and humidity in our room, spirits were high because tomorrow marked a return to the mountains, and the terrain ahead promised a change from flat roads and red dirt.
