Galicia

We are over the top, and at the foot of O'Cebreiro again, but 30km into Galicia.
While the others were having mad dentist dreams while napping in the Little Refugio of Horrors, Brian and Tom cycled up to check out the trail the guidebooks keep warning us about..Brian says.."Yes, it is muddy, yes there are rocks, but there is also a paved way, a narrow single track into the fog"...and so, after our coffee and bread breakfast, up we go. The single track is a bit longer, 9km instead of 7, and steep like the stairway to heaven..up,up,up. Dad disappears ahead, Tom passes me a little later, then Ann catches up. Brian goes the dirt path to make sure Tom didn't go that way, so Ann and I climb away, walking now.
0.2km, stop, breath, repeat.
This goes on for three hours, through oak, gorse, heather, fog, rain, up.
A mini Pyrenees...that climb went on for twice as long.
Finally, we are there..not a lot to see, on the windy, misty crest; but a bit further is the actual town of O'Cebreiro, with these round thatched Galician stone buildings..the books say are used for "humans or cattle".
Hmm...mother-in-law visiting? Change the hay in the spare room!
We hit the giftshop and Brian and I drain a beer while the others have hot chocolate, then...the descent that Tom and I have been looking forward to...30km! Down!
But..no,the books lied, three more little passes keep putting off the thrill. Finally, Alto de Ojo, the last pass, and the rain descends instead. Dashing into a conveniently located bar, we are reminded yet again we are not in California...a wave of stale tobacco smoke rolls out..it is warm inside, however, so we endure it, and have the first hot soup so far. The Spanish seem to like their white wine and soup warm, and red wine cold. A warning to you all...this is a foreign country.
The rain slacks off, and we go for it...at least, Dad, Tom, and I..Brian and Ann are too pokey...we are hot to get off the hill, a 7% grade for 15km. Alas, the ain and wind are not through with us, on one tack through the switchbacks the wind is so strong we have to PEDAL downhill, and coming about to the next switchback is a bit thrilling, but then we have a tailwind...heh, heh.
I leave those two losers behind, hitting 62.5km per hour. Of course, the next switchback repeats this, and then it is a straight run down to Triacastela, where we are now, in a pension called "Casa Olga"
120km to go, we need to slow it down a bit!