Frustrations and Faith on Camino: Zamora to Riego del Camino

 “It is the hope that kills you...”
Sir Peter Ustinov

Via de la Plata Stage 24

Continuing Our Camino Pilgrimage

It was another very quiet night at the hostel, without even the voices of swallows or pigeons to break the silence.  Reluctantly, we got up around 6:00 AM and made our breakfast of instant coffee and chocolate croissants.  By 6:45 AM, we were packed and heading out onto the streets. Having enjoyed a couple of days off in the last week, it was definitely time to get going again.

The sky was just beginning to lighten as we set out, and once again the city lay under that almost eerie, hushed quiet that had become so familiar on these early mornings.

As we walked, a sign caught our eye: the Camino Zamorano Portugués. We’d never heard of it, and it wasn’t in our guidebook. A quick online search revealed it was a little-known variant that leaves Zamora and takes pilgrims straight to the Camino Sanabrés via Bragança in Portugal, eventually reconnecting a few stages later. It seemed like a clever shortcut, letting you skip the long stretch of the Via de la Plata to Granja de Moreruela, and I found myself imagining what it might be like to wander that quieter, less-travelled path.

Return to the Way

We made our way out of Zamora relatively quickly, passing several interesting murals painted on buildings at the edge of town, before crossing a roundabout and finding ourselves on a dirt track beside the highway.  For a short distance, we walked through a construction zone, walking on hard-packed dirt that looked like it was being transformed into a multi-use cycling and walking path in the near future.  We were very grateful that it wasn't raining or wet, as this stretch would have been a muddy slog. 

Soon we were out in the fields, with the golden sun rising beside us, casting our long shadows across the fields of lush green grain.  We passed a car recycling plant, and a little while later we crossed the highway for the first of several times today.  As we walked over the bridge, there was absolutely no traffic below us on the multilane roadway, reaffirming our perception that Zamora is a strangely empty and quiet city.

Tierra del Pan

We arrived in the first small town on today's walk, which was Roales del Pan, located about 7 or 8 kilometres from Zamora.   We could see the small collection of homes stretched out in front of us, a set of silos or large metal tanks set off to one side, giving it a slightly industrial feel.  The smell of burnt plastic as we entered town reinforced this feeling, although all was quiet as we trekked down the main street.  At first, the tree-lined sidewalk took us past shuttered homes.   

The trail soon led us to an “interesting” yard full of strange and colourful concrete sculptures, which included wolves, Little Red Riding Hood, two pilgrims, an elephant, an ostrich, and more.  It was quite an eclectic mix.

A little way into town, we were greeted with a stone cross and a rest stop for pilgrims.  Beyond this, a large mural beside a playground showed a map of all the towns along the Via de la Plata in Castile y Leon.  

At the far side of town was another rest area, and we stopped to take a short break.  We had passed a sign for a bar that claimed to serve breakfast, but when we investigated further, we discovered it was likely on the highway, and we were unwilling to make the detour so early into today's walk.  

After a brief reprieve from the trail, we continued on, following the gravel road back out into the countryside along with several other pilgrims!

Roadways, Highways and Railways 

Our track was mostly straight, paralleling the highway.  In the distance, we could see a car or truck speed past every once in a while, but there was little sound.  The fields around us were flat and open, planted with grain, canola, and the occasional patch of trees or grape vines.  For quite a long stretch, we also walked through field after field of solar panels.  In the distance, a bank of tall white wind turbines lined a ridge. 

As the morning progressed, we were diverted a couple of times to walk over train tracks, which were quite busy with long, high-speed trains.  The Camino seemed to be navigating us along a major energy and transportation corridor.

One of the highlights in this section was spotting a Northern Wheatear foraging quietly in a nearby field. For much of this morning, the trail of the Camino simply wove onto the horizon. 

Rest stop in Montamarta 

Some 12 km later, and now 19 km into today’s stage, we entered the community of Montamarta, where we hoped to find a bar with café con leche and an open shop to resupply.  The beginning of the town wasn't too inspiring, as we passed by several rather dilapidated-looking farms.  A man was walking his dog along the dirty concrete laneway and did little to dissuade it from barking and yapping at us.  On we went, following the arrows down a long street lined with homes.

Just when I was thinking we would pop out the far side of town without finding refreshment of any kind, we came to the main square in front of the church.  The courtyard was filled with city workers sporting bright yellow safety vests, pouring out sand and placing large bales of hay around the communal area. It seemed as though they were making preparations for some kind of agricultural fair.  

On the other side of the courtyard, we noticed a bar which we initially thought was closed.  However, when I pushed open the door, the ear-shattering sounds of a TV and a conversation in full progress greeted us.  I eventually gave our order over the din and we were soon enjoying two excellent café con leches.  As we sat there, four other pilgrims, whom we'd seen behind us on the trail, arrived and soon collapsed into chairs at their own table.

A minute later, another pilgrim stepped into the door, then seemed to count the pilgrims in the room before bolting back out the door and continuing on.  Perhaps this is because the albergue in Fonsanilla only has 12 beds, and he wanted to be sure of getting one? The “race for the bunks” on this trail never seems to end and shapes many people’s days out here.

Before leaving, we bought two cold Aquarius for later on down the road, anticipating another 11 km stretch without any stopping points or opportunities for reprieve.  

Ricobayo Reservoir

We followed the yellow Camino arrows down to the edge of town, surprised to find ourselves on the banks of a wide river!  The water was still as glass, and it reflected perfectly the red sandstone cliffs and the beautiful outline of the ermita on the far bank.  We stopped to enjoy the view, letting the other pilgrims ahead of us gain some distance.

After taking some photos, we followed the yellow arrows into a park.  Our GPX tracks indicated that we should cross the river on a bridge that didn't exist, or was underwater.  We were just realizing this, and the fact that we would have to walk out to the highway to cross the body of water, when one of the city workers began shouting at us that we weren't on the Camino. 

We would later discover that the Camino actually follows a track between the town and the church, but that at different times of the year (like right now) it is underwater.    

Heeding this lady’s commentary, we turned to backtrack through the long grass and nearly stepped on an enormous brown snake! It was a bit unnerving to think we hadn't noticed a snake that was at least 1 m (3 ft) long and several inches thick on our first pass through.

Meandering Northward

After backtracking through town, we crossed the river on the highway bridge and then climbed up a steep gravel road beside the Emerita de la Virgen del Castillo.  Here we once again found yellow arrows pointing northward, and picking up the Camino again, we proceeded.  

We fell in behind two French pilgrims and spent the next few hours leapfrogging with them along the dirt track that ran beside the highway. The countryside stretched wide and exposed around us, and the occasional train rattled past, its wires warning us before it thundered by. Our route zigzagged across the highway and the train line, following what seemed to be a disused service or agricultural road. There was almost no shade, and by early afternoon, the sun was relentless; I could only imagine how brutal this would be in the height of summer.

Scattered through the fields were the ruins of Castrorte - segments of 12th-century stone walls and towers standing amid the lush greenery along the shores of the Esla River. The path continued through wide agricultural fields, passing beneath towering power lines, a reminder of modern life cutting across this ancient landscape.

As the afternoon wore on, it became increasingly bright and hot, and we longed to take a break in the shade. However, no opportunities presented themselves. Thankfully, we had our purchased Aquarius with us, which helped.

Walking into Fontanillas de Castro

We had been hoping to stop in Fonsanillas de Castro after 32 km of walking.  This village apparently has a very nice albergue, with very kind Hospitaleros.  However, when we reached the town, we found that the bar was closed permanently, and the gas station on the highway, with its tiny Tienda, was also closed permanently.  

With no food available in the village, we considered that it might be a better bet to continue on for 3.5 km more to Rieglo del Camino, where there was a bar that hopefully had food. We took a seat outside the church in the deserted village square, roasting in the hot afternoon sun.  As we sat there, several pilgrims whom we'd seen diverting down the road to the albergue walked passed looking dejected.  This left us to assume that either the albergue was already 'completo' or that, like us, they wanted to find food.

Struggling into Rieglo del Camino

After picking up our backpacks, we set off from Fontanillas de Castro, the track winding back into the open countryside for the next three and a half kilometres. Our route was suddenly redirected when three farmers stopped their car across the path and pointed us down a small roadway that veered off the Camino. In the end, it was a short but hot trudge to Rieglo del Camino, the sun beating down as we made our way along the dusty road.

By 3 PM, we arrived at our third albergue of the day, this time in Riego del Camino. We called the number posted on the door, and a few minutes later, Paco appeared to let us in. The place was spotless, and so far, we were the only guests that night.

It was immediately clear that, though older, the albergue was very well cared for. Paco showed us around, pointing out the different room options, the kitchen, the washroom, the shower, and the spot to hang our laundry. The cost was just five euros each, and before heading off, he even drew our attention to the kitchen fridge, stocked with one-euro beers. A small, welcome indulgence after a long day on the trail.

Paco kindly explained that the bar in town would re-open at 5 or 5:30 PM, and we could get something to eat there.  

Thanking him, we began to clean up, taking showers, and hand-washing our laundry, which we hung in the baking hot courtyard.   

We settled into the shaded interior of the albergue with a couple of cold beers, taking a moment to rest and consider our next steps on the Camino. The options were clear, yet the choice felt weighty: should we turn west tomorrow toward Santiago de Compostela, or continue north to Astorga and complete the Via de la Plata? The kitchen table was scattered with pamphlets, and we leafed through them, learning about other Camino routes and looking for answers, letting the quiet of the empty albergue give us a little space to think.

Everything Cerrado

To our dismay, Paco came back half an hour after leaving to inform us that the bar wasn't reopening tonight after all.  He announced, “here everything cerrado!”  Despite the posted hours, the bartender had unexpectedly opted not to open.  Admittedly, the Cicerone guidebook does note that this bar is “unreliable at times”. 

Sigh....as the saying goes, it is the hope that kills you.  

He asked if we were okay for food and offered us two cans of meatballs in sauce from the closet. We declined, mostly because we don't eat meat, but we really appreciated his thoughtfulness and kindness in coming back to let us know what was happening and to make sure we were okay.  However, the fact that he had an emergency supply of canned food in the cupboard suggests this might not have been the first time the bar failed to open, leaving pilgrims in the lurch.  We were humbled by this offer of Camino magic, but also began to wonder whether we shouldn’t just continue on in order to have something to eat.  

Our thoughts were reflected when shortly afterward, there was a knock at the door and in quick succession, five other pilgrims arrived, only to be devastated when they discovered that the bar here was also closed.   Having no supplies and not having eaten in the 36 km since leaving Zamora this morning, each of them decided to walk on to Granja rather than stay the night.  One young lady, who was covered in mud and sunburnt, walked away crying at the prospect of hiking further. 

While we ultimately stayed, it was certainly a long, hungry night.

Frustrations and Faith on the Camino

The repeated closures along the trail did little to convince us to stay on the Via de la Plata and continue along the Camino Sanabrés tomorrow.  We now faced a tough decision about moving forward.  Listed services often proved non-existent, posted hours did little to mirror the realities of services along the trail, and we frequently found very few places open in towns that we passed through.  Added to this, fellow pilgrims ahead of us on the Camino Sanabrés have begun to warn that the same pattern will continue in the stages to come. 

Online resources reinforced this reality.  YouTube channel Nadine Walks repeatedly emphasizes that “this is a hard Camino to find food on,” with most listed amenities closed regardless of posted hours, while Walk with Efren’s videos show just how little is open along the Via de la Plata. Even the guidebook cautioned that services would be “unreliable” for the next set of stages through the string of small villages ahead. It was clear that either careful planning or a willingness to embrace uncertainty would be essential if we continued on this trail. 

With these thoughts in mind, we wandered around the quiet town, and I admitted to Sean that I didn’t think I had it in me to keep going on faith, potentially facing days without reliable lodgings or food while hiking.

I suggested we head north to Astorga on the Camino Francés, where we knew there would be restaurants, rooms, and a chance to regroup. From Astorga, we could easily continue to Santiago de Compostela along the well-travelled and popular Francés. Alternatively, once back on the Frances, we could turn east, backtracking to León to join the Camino San Salvador and continue north to Gijón. Either option promised a far less logistically challenging path than the uncertain stretch of the Camino Sanabrés. 

To venture on along the Camino Sanabrés would be to continue on faith alone – and I’m not sure I have that faith right now as we go to sleep once again without food after another long day on the Camino.  

Early tomorrow morning, we will come to the split in the trail and finally have to choose.  Neither of us knows what to do.

I suppose that tomorrow will tell the tale.

See you on the Way!

"Of drink I have little, and food I have less

My strength tells me, "No", but the path demands, "Yes"

My legs are so short and the way is so long

I've no rest nor comfort, no comfort but song..."

                                         Bear McCreary, This Wandering Day