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Molinaseca to Ponferrada
It was a nice day and I found myself walking with Mikel,
a 30-ish man from Pais Vasco (the Basque Province). He was interested
in my Web site and asked me many questions. He had seen the site the
night before on the coin-operated Internet terminal that was in the
albergue. I asked him to email me at the site to tell me when
he got into Santiago. He promised me that he would.
On the outskirts of the city Mikel and I were stopped and questioned
by la Guarda Civil (Civil Guard), who are a sort of state police.
They were investigating the disappearance of a husky-type dog from the
strange albergue at Manjarin. They seemed to think that someone
might have stolen it. After they left, I told Mikel that if the husky
had the same temperament as a most of the dogs that I have met on el
camino, someone probably clobbered it with his walking stick, in
self-defense.
When we entered Ponferrada, the flechas amarillas (yellow arrows)
seemed to head away from the central city, so I said goodbye to Mikel
and headed out to look for a hotel. I saw a sign for one named Hotel
Madrid, but it was 2 K away and, therefore, I thought that it must be
on the outskirts of the city. That wouldn't do. I wanted to be in the
city near the castle. So I kept walking and walking. And walking! I
didn't see a hotel and was getting a little nervous. Was this going
to be another León-type fiasco where I wandered in the wrong
direction? I asked for directions to the castle and found out that,
indeed, I had headed in the right direction. My mood changed to one
of anxiety because I now had to make a pit stop. But, in this section
of the city there weren't even any bars or cafeterias. I could duck
into a back alley — if only I could find a back alley. It was at
that point that I saw a sign indicating a hotel just a few hundred meters
away. I was going to take a room in this hotel no matter what and quickened
my pace. I made it in the nick of time! Interestingly enough it was
the Hotel Madrid, which I had judged earlier would be too far away.
It was the same hotel I had stayed in six years earlier. Another helpful
coincidence!!
Ponferrada has always been an important stop for pilgrims and was known
for two things. The first is its bridge across the river Sil. So many
pilgrims were crossing the river at this point that, in the 11th century,
a bishop ordered a bridge to be built and that it was to be reinforced
with iron bars. Hence the spot became known as Ponferrada from
the Latin pons ferrata (Iron Bridge). The bridge no longer exists,
but a plaque on the present day modern bridge commemorates the spot
where so many pilgrims had passed.
On the crest of a hill overlooking the bridge is the second most famous
connection of the city to Santiago, the Templar Castle. After I checked
into my hotel, I went to visit the castle, which is now a national museum.
As I wandered around the place and read the various descriptions, I
learned that the Templar Castle did not belong to the Templars. What
they had built was a walled enclosure with modest buildings. The walls,
which still surround the castle, covered an area large enough to provide
the citizenry with a place to stay during threats of danger. After the
Templars were destroyed, the property was taken over by a local lord
and a castle was built. Ownership frequently changed according to the
politics of the time and subsequent owners each imposed individual changes
in construction.
For the past few hundred years, the castle was deserted and began to
deteriorate. In the early part of the 20th century someone got the bright
idea to dismantle some of the smaller buildings inside the walls to
make space for a soccer field. Fortunately that project was stopped,
but not before some important ruins were lost. I followed the directional
signs and ascended the stairs in one of the towers. The view was tremendous
and dramatized the strategic advantage of the hilltop. As I walked along
the ramparts, I happened to glance down at the street. Oh, oh.
I was pretty high up. I hate heights. I especially hate heights while
standing on a narrow catwalk that is several hundred years old. Oh sure,
my mind was telling me that the walk was reinforced, but my heart was
screaming,"Help!" I soon found myself hunkered down and slowly
inching toward the downward stairs.
That night I had trouble transmitting my photos. It was well into the
early a.m. when I gave up and went to bed. Since it was so late and
there was a prediction of chubascos (rain storms) for the next
day, I decided that I would stay an extra night.
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