O’Cebreiro was shrouded in a fitting misty Galician cloud as I said my goodbyes to this magical village. I’m glad that I hadn’t given in to my earlier temptation to ditch my tights as I was happy to have all my warm layers this morning. I now understand why the thick, hot caldo gallego is so ubiquitous in this part of Spain.

 

 

I’m also glad I had such clear views yesterday on the ascent up the mountain. The clearest view I had this morning was of the wind wreaking havoc with the peregrino ponchos. 

I witnessed one sad peregrino get slapped across the face by hers as the wind picked up its edge and whipped it about. (plastic peregrino ponchos = muy peligroso!)

   

The clouds lifted as I descended into the valleys and the lush green countryside spread out before me. The path wound through small farms and even smaller villages. Every so often I’d stop and just watch the cows grazing next to the path. Such faces! And such noises!

   

 

   

Like so many other villages along the Camino, most everyone I saw working in the fields or walking in the towns was old. The young people have all left for cities or somewhere where there’s at least a possibility of an opportunity.