Lots of kilometers today, probably at least 30. We started the day early, before the sun got over the mountains as we let the sleeping dogs lie in Foncebadon. It was a 2 km climb up to the Cruce Ferrus, or Iron Cross, on the Camino, a renowned spot where a small iron cross sits atop a tall wooden pole surrounded by a huge pile of rocks and other memorabilia.
Everyone brings rocks from home or picks up one there and leaves it or leaves something else behind. Some say it is to leave behind the burdens of life that you have brought to the Camino. I have brought with me two small stones I picked up on a road near my house when I was out walking before this trip and carried them with me all this way. Unfortunately, I forgot to get them out of my pack before we started out and we shipped our packs ahead this day! I will have to leave them at one of the many other crosses along the way. But I did pick up another rock, larger than the two I brought, and I left that at the top of the heap, as well as a burden. It's interesting what a tangible ritual can do to make real an interior grace, but that is what sacraments are for, then, isn't it? Stella and I took pictures of each other up next to the pole and a kind pilgrim took one of both of us together. And then we each took pictures of other pilgrims as they came up. Then we were on our way again.Today´s walk had two peaks to it, one of which I think is the highest point on our whole walk (if it isn´t, then that awaits us day after tomorrow).
But we were already within 150 meters of the summit of the mountain so it wasn´t so bad, but it was a little drawn out. 
The harder part of today´s walk was actually the descent. It was rocky and very long, and in some places rather steep. Descents are hard on the knees and ankles and they also take lots of concentration. I´m more like a goose than a mountain goat, I think, in coming down. I can´t take my eyes off the trail or I will be on the ground. There are lots of ruts, lots of striations in the rock, lots of loose rocks to watch out for. And sometimes, there are places where water runs across or collects and it is downright messy. The downhill took the better part of the day. All in all, we were on the road for 8 - 9 hours today, counting a couple of short breaks. 
Our first break wasn´t until we reached the lovely little town of Acebo, about 10 km from Foncebadon.
In this part of Spain, the red roof tiles have changed to dark gray slate, perhaps because it holds up better in cold, wet weather. Because of so much natural stone to be found, the buildings are almost all stone. 
The bar-cafe was lovely (the bathroom earned an outstanding rating: hot water, soap, TP, a REAL towel!, not to mention lovely tiled walls and floor, and a beautiful brass basin and faucet). It doesn't get any better than that! And it was a lovely little bar with delicious pastries to go with our tea and coffee.At the bottom as we started up yet another long, rocky trek, we came across a woman selling the most wonderfully sweet, dark red cherries. It's curious that they seem to be at the base of these hills...hmmm...
Stella bought a big bag of them and we enjoyed them all the way up the hill. I'm surprised there aren't more wild cherry trees growing because of all of the pits we saw discarded! Somehow, those sweet cherries make the steep climb a bit more endurable. I'm thinking the vendors know this.We passed through a little village and Stella needed to get some batteries for her camera, so we stopped at a little tiende, Josefina's.
Josefina had postcards and photos sent from all over the world attesting to her reputation for the 'best bocadillos' (little sandwiches) in the world! It wasn't time for lunch, so we didn't test out the testimonials, but we enjoyed our conversation with this lovely lady. 
On the way out of the village, we came across another memorial (we have passed a number of them) to a pilgrim who had died. This memorial was obviously to someone who was 'a bici,' on a bicycle. The memorial was at an intersection, so perhaps the pilgrim, I think it was a German guy, was hit by an automobile. It's always sobering to see the memorials - people with the same goals, dreams as us, in the midst of making them happen, but cut down in one way or another. Life is indeed uncertain.
Along the way, we ran into a herd a sheep trying to get home.
The poor things were scared of us and the path was narrow, so they tried to avoid us in any way possible, even if it meant trying to climb a straight up shoulder to the path about four feet high. 
Those that couldn't get up the little hill scooted around us as quickly as they could avoiding eye contact and glad to be on their way, unscathed. One black sheep went by, well, rather sheepishly. 
For us, it was interesting to watch their behavior from the middle of the herd. 
We stopped again in the very pretty little town of Molinaseca 
where I finally found a postcard and a boxed example of a Torte de Santiago, a Santiago cake! It's taken at least three-quarters of the Camino to finally find it! 
We had a little pastry (not the cake yet) to sustain us and then began the final 6 or 7 km to our destination of Ponferrada. Had we known that the final 6 km would be so drawn out, we might have stayed in Molinaseca, but we kept trudging along. We got to the alburgue and checked in only to find (when we call the transport company, because the alburgue wasn´t honest enough to tell us) that they had refused to accept delivery of our backpacks. Stella and I were not happy campers. So we had to walk another 3 km or so across the city, find the other hostal, get our packs and walk back. If we hadn´t already checked in here and given our donation, we would not have stayed at that alburgue!
Ponferrada is not such a wonderful city (not just because of the above). We realized that as we were walking here for quite a distance. There is a 12th c. Knights Templar castle in the middle of the city
and the rest is modern and not so attractive. A river runs through it, but they don´t do much with it. It will be okay to leave tomorrow. We share a four-person room tonight with two guys who have the other bunk bed. One of them seems to be quite ill, but we aren't quite sure what is wrong with him. A doctor comes to see him. He will stay behind tomorrow with the doctor's permission.
So now, there isn´t much to do here this evening except watch our laundry dry. I´m sitting next to a young lady named Grace from Alaska. She´s taking a break from salmon fishing, which is how she and her brother earn money for college. She heard about the Camino and thought it would be a great alternative to fishing. It´s nice to have a conversation with another American! And Grace does know how to talk. And talk, and yes, talk some more. Perhaps she is a little people-starved in Alaska... Okay, now for some Torte de Santiago!
