So far I’ve covered some 21 kms and have walked only 2 of them although all has been more or less runnable. Not so for stages 3 and 4 which depend more on walking ability than running ability. The ascent of “the Mare’s Seat” in stage 4 (about 2150m and the highest point of the Aquilianos) is purely a test of being able to walk uphill for two hours. And it’s quite a hill. You can see the way up half way through stage 3 but it is best not to look.
An early start and a short drive up to Montes de Valdueza along a mountain road that twists and turns relentlessly. They’ve recently put up crash barriers along some of the more dangerous sections but last time I passed this way it looked frighteningly easy to go over the edge. After about 40 minutes I pulled into a completely empty car park just before the monastery and set off, this time with a smallish rucksack. This is the point where long and short routes part company and for those tackling the high Aquilianos peaks a rucksack with a minimum of equipment is obligatory (water, raingear, etc..).
Stage 3 crosses from Montes via the Carballal pass (a shade under 1300m) and then down to its sister village, Peñalba. Never have two siblings been so ill matched. Both are owners of 2 emblems of the Bierzo region and both emblems contain the alpha and the omega symbols. There the similarity ends. The Visigoth stone of San Pedro de Montes I saw in the previous stage. It’s stuck awkwardly like some misplaced jigsaw piece into a tumbledown shack that nobody can find. The golden cross of Peñalba in contrast I won’t see today. It’s in the Louvre in Paris! More contrasts. Montes is semi-abandoned with muddy unpaved streets and only recently installed lighting. As I passed through this morning there were kid’s toys scattered about one of the main streets as if playtime was only momentarily interrupted by nightfall. Its prize exhibit, the monastery, is a mighty ruinous landmark that nobody knows what to do with. 6 kms away the church of Peñalba (itself once part of a monastery of “fruity” monks) is the jewel in the crown of Mozarabe culture in northern Spain.
And who were the Mozarabes I hear you ask? This is a subject of vigorous historical debate. Glorified Visigoths some may say but they are believed to be Christians who came from Moorish occupied territories and who brought with them Arabesque architectural styles such as the perfectly preserved horseshoe arches of the church of Santiago in Peñalba (see photo). Recent restoration work has uncovered millennium old wall paintings similar to those of the mosque of Cordoba and each year more tourists descend upon the isolated little village to visit the Mozarabe church. Subsequently Peñalba is tidily kept, perfectly paved and most of the houses are lovingly restored, several being let out as holiday cottages. And all in stark contrast to its sister village on the other side of the hill. No wonder the self appointed guardian of the monastery is pissed off.
The route commences. Leave Montes and push on upwards through a chestnut grove with monster sized tree trunks. Soon I reach a rocky outcrop which is crowned by a crude wooden cross. This is the site of Castro Rupiano. A castro is an ancient hill-fort and they are extremely common in “Celtic” areas such as Galicia but Bierzo is also full of them. So now you know that the president of Cuba is in fact “Fidel hill-fort” (the surname comes from his Galician grandparents).
A flat section follows from where, towering 1000 metres above me, the glacial circle of the Aquilianos is clearly visible rimmed with snow. I feel a shiver of excitement. And fear. Crossed the bubbling stream which I’d forgotten to cross in the year 2000 event and then faced the steepest climb of the route so far and a taste of things to come. Marched up as briskly as I could but I’m out of practise and stop a couple of times to enjoy the views. A rich green meadow marks the top of the pass. Here the turf has been violently excavated in places where wild boars have dug for roots.
Peñalba was visible from the pass, its slate roofs tightly packed around the bell-tower of the Mozarabe church. The village blends in chameleon like with its landscape. Some have compared the texture of its litchen covered slate roofs with the skin of a reptile (although today many of these roofs are brand new, a sign of growing prosperity).
The descent is more gradual and I can run again but cautiously as the vegetation is deep in places and it’s difficult to see where to put your feet. Zig-zag downwards through woods where the birds and the rumbling River Oza in the distance provide a musical accompaniment more powerful than any i-pod soundtrack. Ironically I next cross the Valley of Silence where a reclusive “fruity” monk called Saint Genadio once lived in his cave in splendid isolation.
Arrived in the village at 9:30. I’ve been walking/ running for exactly one hour. The mare’s seat awaits me menacingly.
Approx. distance; 6 kms (ran less than half of that).
Time taken; 60 minutes.
Total ascent; 325m.
Total descent; 250m.
Travesía Integral de los Montes Aquiianos
