Rabanal del Camino to El Acebo

Pictures.Refugio in Manjarin and a house in El Acebo where people live upstairs, animals downstairs.

Written on June 14, 2009.....10.5 miles.

As we left Rabanal we climbed higher and higher. I took my time and looked back over the beautiful valley to see the sunrise. Soon we came to Foncebadon, a very small village with a welcoming feel and again an albergue/bar with incense and great music. We took a break and readied ourselves for the climb to Cruz de Ferro at 4,940 feet. We had read about Cruz de Ferro and had seen it in a video. Marking the spot is a tall pole with an iron cross of top. Cruz de Ferro has become a place for pilgrims to reflect on their journey, bless themselves and others , leave a rock from home...(Vern left a rock from a beach in Crescent City), or any token of love. It is a place to do whatever you are moved to do. A short way down the path there was a pile of rocks with a cross. Being the only one there I spent a moment to thank all who have been on my path with me, have crossed my path, and have walked with me throughout my life. As we started down the mountain we came to Manjarin. Manjarin really can´t be called a village. The first sight of Manjarin is a hut-like structure that looks like a beehive. A short way, approx 75 feet is an refugio with an outhouse across the road. The view from this mountain hideaway is phenomenal. I am so grateful to be viewing it. As I enter the refugio, the hospitalier is ringing a bell. Our friend, Lisa, later told us that he rings the bell every hour so that pilgrims find their way. I love the atmosphere here, I love the energy, I love the funkiness, the honesty. At that moment I know that whatever I had ever perceived as hip, was not. This is HIP! I tried to express my feelings to two pilgrims from Germany...they just kept looking at my hips and laughing. At least I know what I mean.

So as we carefully continued down the mountain we entered a village and checked into our room at a Casa Rural.

As we were checking in the owner told us that today there is a big festival. We showered, washed our clothes and left to explore the village.

Soon a procession emerged from the church. Every person that had attended Mass was in the procession. The Father was in the front under a canopy held by four people. Every few feet someone would throw rose petals. An elderly gentleman walked slowly playing the flute. As soon as the procession circled the village they went back into the church. Several people brought out food for the village, visitors and pilgrims. As the festivities, live music and fireworks continued throughout the evening I layed in bed with windows wide open....resting my body, mind, and spirit for the next day of walking.