Acebo to Cacabelos

Hey everyone,

We played it smart today and decided not to have another 40km day.  We did end up walking about 30km, though, which really should be our limit in order not to overdo it.

Leaving Acebo was pretty cool.  We awoke to a mountain mist blanketing the town--like maybe 1/10 mile visibility.  We started with Matt from the States and began the trip through the cloud.  We were in it for a good hour or two before it really cleared up and we could see the cars coming up the road and vice versa.  

Although we had to take the road for the first 9km into Ponferrada, it was very pretty.  Very much kind of a Spanish Blue Ridge Parkway.  It was very quiet and conducive to prayer, which was a nice way to start the morning.  Then we got into Ponferrada. . .

Not my favorite city.  It took a long time to get in and out of, and our enthusiasm levels were not as high as yesterday.  Anywho, we made it out of there with a little bit of lunch and then walked through the suburbs to a little town called Cacabelos.

The walk into Cacabelos was probably my favorite part of the whole day.  The views back over the mountains that we came down were b-e-a-utiful.  That, and I met a little trail angel today named Antonio.

I was a couple km outside of the town and beginning to hit some natural trails when I came across a little old man sitting on a bench in the shade of a tree.  He called to me in Spanish "Ven aqui para un descanso"--come over here for a little rest.  I said sure, and was very glad I did.  I sat and talked to him for a good 10 minutes or so and found out a little bit about him.  He was born and raised in Cacabelos and had a grandson who was in seminary, studying for the Archdiocese of Miami.  He left, to his grandfather´s chagrin, after meeting a girl in the States and still lives over there.  We continued to talk and he kept the conversation pretty basic, so I was able to converse pretty well with him.  He was very much a grandfatherly old man who, when we parted, thanked me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.  I told him I have a grandfather named Tony in the States and asked him to pray for him.  He said he would, so, grandpa, if you are reading this, know there is a Spanish Tony praying for you.

We are at a pretty cool hostal right now that is in a horseshoe shape around an old church--outside of course--and has two bed room layouts, so a little change from the barracks set up.  

We need some prayers for tomorrow.  The way we are taking is the Dragonte way over the mountains into Ocebeiro and it is not going to be easy.  We will be praying for you all while we do it, please pray for us!  Until next post, much love.

Paul