Ponferrada. 34 km, almost 10 hours.

In case you’re wondering, that’s 45,547 steps or 21 miles.

A long day of hiking, but I’m thankful to have my own room tonight to contain my sneezing, coughing, etc. The Paracetamol was helpful in controlling the fever, but not the other flu symptoms.

I stopped at the Cruz de Ferro (iron cross) at the first of two summits today, the highest point on the Camino at about 1,500 m.

I left my obligatory stone at the base of the cross along with thousands of others. Tradition says that the stone represents your sins or your sorrows. I suppose I’m lucky that I have few sins, and fewer sorrows.

I found an open pharmacy on the edge of town and restocked on cold medicine. As in most of Europe, pharmacies are a godsend. Most towns have several, but opening hours of any particular pharmacy are often anyone’s guess.

The most written-about section of todays stage is the dreaded “descent into Molinaseca.” Some posters to the message boards describe this as the single most traumatic section of the Camino, a steep descent over loose gravel and broken shale.

The definitive 2022 John Brierly guide recommends avoiding this stretch entirely and taking the “new path” along the highway between Acevo and Molinaseca. Brierly points out, for good measure, that 80% of injuries on the Camino occur on descents, not ascents.

Guess what? No path. No signage. Not even a shoulder along this stretch of highway.

After consulting with several other peregrinos, we all ended up pointing out boots downhill and taking the “80%” path, which was clearly marked. It more or less lived up to its difficult billing, but we all made it.

Because it was such a long day, it was one of those leave-before-breakfast and arrive-during-siesta days. The only open restaurant I could find in Ponferrada at the early hour of 8:00 PM was a Mexican place—a real novelty in Spain. I ordered the mole, which was actually quite good.