A howling wind greeted us when we woke at 5:00 in the tiny village (ghost town) of Foncebadon. It reminded us that the forecast low was 8 degrees. We all dressed for maximum coverage, Laurel even had socks on her hands at one point. Our path followed a foggy, cold, wind-swept ridge past the Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross), the spot where we deposited our stones the day before. Cows and other hikers appeared and faded away in the mist as we plodded along to the end of the ridge and we begun a decent that would last most of the day. Down, down, down we went, our minds began to wander as well. "When will it stop, I don't remember climbing that high?", "We missed second breakfast, I'm hungry!", "Where's the Tiger Balm, my legs hurt?"
After three hours the fog lifted and we saw how beautiful the scenery actually was. We descended through mountain villages that were just waking up, but had no coffee or bathrooms to offer. The village of Molinaseca welcomed us at 10:30 and we stayed for a picnic lunch beside the river. The remainder of the walk to Ponferrada was flat and beside a busy highway. The temperature had risen to 26 degrees by the time we checked into our hotel.
After showers, we headed out for supper at 16:00 and to explore the Templar castle in the centre of town. We were back in our room and complaining about the heat by 7:00 pm--too cold and too hot in the same day!
