Caminho da Geira e dos Arrieiros: Lobios to Castro Laboreiro – 21.8km

Our last full day of walking the Caminho da Geira e dos Arrieiros was overshadowed by the looming threat of a thunderstorm. Recalling two lightning strike fatalities in the Brecon Beacons a decade back, I was concerned our hiking poles might act as conductors of electricity if one was to occur while we were crossing open land. Harri, on the other hand, seemed convinced we’d be arriving safely in Castro Laboreiro before the rains came.

We woke at 7.08am Spanish time, which is obviously 6.08am in real time. As we’re crossing back into Portugal later today it makes sense to stick to their time in our heads, even if our devices refuse to cooperate.

Talking of time, something we find increasingly time-consuming, not to mention frustrating, is the amount of paperwork that accompanies booking into a hotel. Take yesterday. Harri had already submitted all our details in advance online, but that didn’t stop the friendly receptionist in Lobios asking us to complete printed A4-sized forms along with our passports. We’re mostly weary when we arrive at our accommodation so having to stand around filling out unnecessary forms by hand drives us crazy.

Harri has continually emphasised that today is one of our shorter days of hiking, but there may be a few hills. In fact, we’ll be resting our heads at their highest point of the trip in Castro Laboreiro tonight. Most of the climbing (about seven kilometres) will be earlier in the day, however I’ve been warned there’s a real sting in the tail today … a two-kilometre sting!

We left at 9.25am Spanish time. We’d been too tired to appreciate Lobios yesterday, but in the morning light the main street looked very pretty and well-maintained. The supermarkets were both closed so it was just as well we’d stocked up on snacks last night. Spanish shops operate on a completely different timescale to the ones in Portugal, e.g. opening late, siesta closures at lunchtime, no opening on Sundays.

It’s difficult to plan around forecasts because they keep changing. At one point, there was rain forecast for the whole day, then it was changed to afternoon only, and now it’s not supposed to be arriving until around 6pm (though whether that’s Portuguese or Spanish time is unclear).

Despite the weather warning, it was a beautiful sunny morning when we left Lobios, still following the Caminho da Geira e dos Arrieiros, although no longer the Roman road. We crossed a reservoir on a wide road bridge and almost immediately joined a steep footpath through lovely woods until we reached a wider, undulating track which boasted what I call ‘a killer gradient’ – basically a shorthand for, ‘This hill is far too steep for my little legs so will you please slow down before I die, collapse or start screaming abuse at you.’

We joined a wide road where there was next to no traffic. Something that always tickles us when we’re walking close to the Spanish/Portuguese border is how there’ll be a signpost which simply says Spain or Portugal and then a distance. There’s rarely ever a town or city mentioned, just the country.

My notes get a little vague at this point. Despite the prominent road sign, I’m not sure we actually passed through Terrachan itself; I think it may have been just off the main road. Certainly, the impressive church with its gentle curved steps was called Santa Maria a Real de Entrimo. We rarely stop to look inside churches, usually because we’re on a tight schedule, but perhaps we should have peeped inside this quirky one, estimated to have been completed around 1739. Entrimo, as we decided it must be, was very well-maintained place, with a lovely open seating area for community gatherings.

So what do we all think about this new craze of rucking? The idea is that you buy a specially weighted rucksack and gradually increase the weight as you walk around your local park. Then you gradually build up the weight you can carry to achieve a better workout. Rucking apparently burns up three times the amount of calories as walking without a pack, which is why it’s gaining popularity. Of course, you could just fill your rucksack with items like food, drink and clothes, and go backpacking like us.

We’re getting some incredible views back towards Peneda-Gerês. Harri thinks the line of craggy peaks we can see are the same ones we saw from our youth hostel.

We’re currently following the Grand Route Geres-Xurés and I was surprised to find out that, for the first 6.8km, which was almost entirely uphill, we’d been averaging 4.8km. Not bad considering the muggy nature of the day and the historic footpaths we seemed to spend the majority of our time climbing. A signpost tells us we have 5.2km until we reach Ameijoeira, where we’ll stop for a rest and something to eat.

We stopped to fill our bottles in a small rural village called A Pereira and were soon joined by a few of the Portuguese pilgrims we saw at the youth hostel last night. One of the women, finding her heavy backpack too onerous in the heat, had sent it ahead in a taxi. Harri and I agreed we didn’t fancy taking the risk, although I suppose she didn’t have the language barrier to worry about. Originally from Lisbon, one of the men now lives in Porto and does a different pilgrimage every year. It was he who told us the older backpacking pilgrim was 75. I just hope I can keep going that long! In true Portuguese manner, he kept telling us, ‘there’s no rush, there’s no rush’.

Something that’s been particularly noticeable today is the number of fonts we’ve passed. We’re carrying plenty of water anyway, but it’s so nice to empty the lukewarm water from our bottles and refill them with icy-cold water.

The Serra da Peneda

We joined a cobbled path, which, of course, like every other track/footpath we’ve walked today was heading uphill. It was well worth the climb as soon the landscape opened up and we were treated to the most spectacular views of the Serra da Peneda. The area is breathtakingly beautiful in that wild, rugged way that only places untouched by human hands can be. We followed an undulating, rough track past large boulders and wild ponies, with high crags and deep valleys either side of us. The only downside was there was zero shade … and it was hot.

Eventually, the landscape changed and we found ourselves descending into a valley. The only indication that we were passing over the Spanish/Portuguese border was a milestone with a faded P on one side and a slightly clearer S on the other side. Apparently, these stones mark the definitive border long agreed by the two adjacent countries.

Back in Portugal, we left the rugged mountain landscape behind and stopped next to a small lake for lunch where we were soon joined by the friendly pilgrims, who wasted no time plunging into the water. It was tempting but it would have slowed us down too much. We left the others and crossed the river on a stone slab bridge with a large hole in the middle.

We almost-always find day four tough going. Our legs are no longer feeling fresh and we haven’t had chance to build up the hiking stamina needed for a long-distance trek. Another day or two and we’re usually fine – it’s just day four that’s the killer. Our longest continual backpacking trip was when we spent just over three weeks walking through Wales, although Harri has always dreamt of tackling something longer, perhaps a two to three-month trip.

With only 3.8 kilometres to go, we crossed the Ponte da Cava da Velha, a stone bridge which dates back to Roman times when it linked the Roman road to Spain. It was rebuilt during the Middle Ages. Somewhere around this point, Harri gave me the option of joining the GR50. It was late afternoon, very humid and I was tiring rapidly so I passed. Besides, I was mentally prepared for the two-kilometre road to hell … er, I mean Castro Laboreiro.

The final climb was as dispiriting as I’d imagined it would be, not least because we had to descend steeply to cross another river before we even started the climbing. It was undoubtedly down to the the humidity, but the two-kilometre ascent seemed to go on forever and no amount of encouragement from hill runner Harri helped.

My first thought as I limped over the crest of the hill was that I’ve never been so pleased to see civilisation. My second? Did the inhabitants of Castro Laboreiro ever walk anywhere? If I knew I had to get back up that monster mountain every time I ventured out for a walk, I’d stay grounded for the rest of my life! As my breathing returned to normal, I was surprised to note how modern the town felt; I’d been expecting something far more historic, with old stone ruins.

Castro Laboreiro

Fortunately, despite its status as a town, Castro Laboreiro is a very small place with roughly 540 inhabitants (2011 Census), which meant it didn’t take us long to find an open bar opposite our hotel. After a few drinks, a Solero and a shower, we felt adequately revived to tackle a teatime walk up to the castle. Sadly, we frequently skip these local landmarks as we don’t have the time or energy to do detours or evening strolls.

The gradient to the hilltop castle was much gentler than the hill to Castro Laboreiro – or maybe it just felt that way because we’d left the backpacks – and poles – behind. The footpath was really pretty and lined with young oak saplings, which meant we had great distant views.

On the way up, we stopped to admire an eye-catching sculpture of the head of a Portuguese cattle dog. These dogs are relied on to keep cattle safe and, as such, are much revered in these mountain areas. Unfortunately, although the information board had been translated into English, it made little sense, other than to mention ‘the peculiar breed … and lightness of the mastiff’. As for the next sentence – The surfaces are soft, and the curved lines penetrate the space, without aggression, so that they exhibit a vibration – I wasn’t sure if the writer was referring to the actual sculpture or living, barking cattle dogs. Long live Google translate! That said, the sculpture was rather cool.

After that there was more climbing to the medieval castle, now categorised as a national monument. It didn’t disappoint. Setting aside the magnificent 360-degree views, more of the structure was standing than we’d originally imagined (you can’t really tell until you’re up on the summit). While the structure seems safe enough, don’t expect the attention to health and safety you’d find in the UK. I’m not great with heights so I had a few ‘wobbly’ moments as I crossed between stone structures with sheer drops inbetween and descended uneven stone steps, but we were 1,033 metres above sea level so what did I expect? I actually found a digital voice recording afterwards where I’m saying in a timorous tone, ‘Harri, I can’t do this; it’s too scary for me.’

Our descent back down to Castro Laboreiro followed a different, scarier-looking route. I wasn’t sure at first, but Harri encouraged me to follow him, pointing out there were safety barriers at the worst points. There were also sections where metal bridges had been installed – although I think they were there to protect the castle and not me. Harri bagged the trigpoint – up another three metres – but I opted out of that particular feat. Despite the occasional ‘moment’, our evening stroll to the castle was absolutely worth it. Unusually, it’s only accessible by foot so we got the place to ourselves.

While we were on top of the world, we noticed how ominous the clouds looked. The thunderstorm, which had held off all day, was undoubtedly on its way.

Back in town, we came face-to-face with two of the cattle dogs that were commemorated up on the hill. True enough, they are very large, but they didn’t seem aggressive. Phew!

We ate out tonight, although I didn’t choose well and ended up with a plate of stodge. We didn’t bump into any of our pilgrim friends, however there were other places to eat – and we ate early. Crossing the street to our hotel, we could hear distant thunder but there was still no sign of the rain.

 Our accommodation

We originally booked a double room at Hotel Miracastro, which has amazing views back down the valley, for 75 euros. Then, about three weeks prior to our trip, they contacted Harri and said we could have a private bathroom for an additional 35 euros. Harri is meticulous about checking everything when he is booking our accommodation and he was certain he’d originally booked a private bathroom (I insist upon it!). Anyway, we thought effectively upping the price by 35 euros was a bit of a cheek and so we cancelled our booking and looked around for something else in Castro Laboreiro.

From the outside, Hotel Castrum Villae didn’t look promising but, once inside, we found ourselves with the perfect room for hikers. It was spacious with plenty of solid, wooden furniture, including a rack for our rucksacks. We had a large terrace too, which we immediately made use of for our washing. As we only paid 45 euros, which included breakfast, we were very impressed. Breakfast was actually very good too. You can’t always tell a book from its cover, or a hotel from its facade.

Our route

This stage is mapped at 21.2km with 813 metres of ascent.

Tracking with Outdoor Active, I recorded 21.8km with 800 metres of ascent.

Download the GPX file of our hike here.