Acebo to Compostilla Iglesia de Santa Maria. Distance 18.7 km (12.7mi / 11.6) to go 206.2 km

(I did it again; wrote for half an hour, then lost it all and have to start over! I hate computers)

Today's route was primarily downhill. In a way I was sad to leave this picturesque little mountain villa that looked like something from a scenic calendar. I even ate breakfast at the hotel this morning (they first talked as if there was no breakfast, then told me someone would be there at 6:30. When I sat down this morning they delivered everything to my table, never asking what I wanted). I had Coffee Americana (full cup!), yogurt, two slices of ham, two slices of swiss on two pieces of almost-soft bread. When I went to pay they told me it was free!

I really enjoyed the look of this villa, but as I was leaving I looked back, on the edge of town, and saw a new (judging from the appearance) albergue de tour bus. Apparently, Acebo's proximity to La Cruz de Ferro has made it a popular place with the tour bus companies. Oh well, there goes the neighborhood!

Just beyond the city limits I spotted another sign that Betty was happy with the way things have worked out in my life:

It says, "Betty ❤️ you"!

The trail was varied, some on road

Some on this slippery and difficult rock surface

and the rest just spectacular!

Because I had eaten a full breakfast I passed by the first several towns without seeking out a bar, but by the time I reached Molinaseca I was ready to have my second cup of joe (or Jose').

As I was putting my pack on, an English speaking woman came up and asked, "How long will it be before it begins to rain?"

Looking at the menacing cloud cover I confidently replied, "Oh, it won't rain today". We walked together for quite some time, so I told her why I was confident we would remain dry. Her name was a Swedish (?) version of Mary, either "the mother of Jesus or, in Egypt, Death - take your pick."

She was from Victoria, B.C., on the island of Vancouver in extreme western Canada. I told her my "story" and she shared parts of hers, including that she had graduated from Lakeview High School in Chicago and had lived for four years on Melrose, only a couple of blocks from Alicia's residence!

We had a very pleasant conversation all the way to Campo, an eastern suburb of Ponferrada, where we caught up with the couple I had met yesterday at Manjarin.

I told Mary that he was Finnish and she Slovenian (whereupon I was corrected, Slovakian). Mary began conversing with them about the languages they spoke and learned now in their homelands (did you know that Finland is the only country whose official language is Swedish?). We walked and talked for awhile, until the two ladies discovered they were both flaming liberals and had a joint dislike for the United States on virtually every political hot potato they could think of. At this point I began to walk faster, not because of their opinions, but because I did not fly half way around the world to debate, discuss or even think about politics! When last I heard they were agreeing that wealthy American businesses were deliberately ruining public schools.

I took another break near the plaza above the 12th century Castillo de las Templarios 

The plaza Virgen de la Encina provided a picture worth, if not a thousand words, then certainly enough to pay for a coke.

From here I found the Way marks difficult to follow, with conflicting marks at several places. My basic instinct was to keep climbing, figuring they weren't going to make this easy. Eventually, I stopped to consult with Google Maps which, thankfully, had NOT taken Sunday off. I found I was somehow still on track and, of course, still climbing.

The Way did take me past something that you just do NOT see anywhere in the U.S. (Probably because of wealthy U.S. businesses). Referred to as Scottish or English "trials", the art of negotiating extremely difficult terrain without touching the ground with your feet, on a very slow moving motorcycle, may seem quite mundane, and perhaps it is. But if you've ever tried this form of competition (which I have done in an extremely amateurish manner) you can appreciate the incredible skill level of these mechanized artisans. This appeared to be either a Sunday family outing or a school. Adults rode alongside, or stood nearby, young kids who were skillfully operating machines that, if they ever DID need to touch the ground, could not have done so while astride their machine.

This young man also reversed course and successfully went UP onto the higher surface while the instructor stood, feet on the pegs, standing still, perfectly balanced, and waited his turn. Tom, you may still be competitive!

While walking the final 25 minutes to my hotel, which is very nice my dear, I spotted this unusual piece of architecture

I am currently holed up in my room, waiting for the restaurant's 8 p.m. opening! Tomorrow I will continue my climb toward the border between the Provinces of Castilla Y Leon and Galicia. Shortly after I begin to walk my pedometer will drop below 200 km (about 120 miles) to go!

Hang in there dear, we're almost home! Keep your left elbow bent and push me. And a big thank you to all who have been following my blog and leaving comments. You have no idea how much that is appreciated!

Bonus materials:

(Roughing it)

Philosophy 101

This is closer to home

All along The Way I have seen memorials, some simple, some more robust, marking the passing of those who, presumably, had passed this Way. This one says a lot!