Medieval pilgrim, Museo das Peregrinacions, Santiago de Compostela

Ohio, April 30, 2009

For about 1200 years, pilgrims have been making their way – their camino – to Santiago de Compostela in Galician Spain, to reap the benefits of visiting the relics of the Apostle James.  St. Francis is said to have made the trip.  Chaucer’s Wife of Bath speaks of having done it.  John Adams, on a trip to France through Spain in 1779, did not go to Santiago and regretted it.   In 1989, Pope John Paul II visited Santiago.   There is little need here to tell the big history of the Camino de Santiago.  That can easily be found elsewhere.  Wikipedia has a nice article on it.

What follows is the account of two American Protestant Christians who walked their own pilgrimage starting  in Burgos and ended up in Santiago 25 days and 500km (300 miles) later.

The text of this account is taken largely from my journal.  I’ve written it for two reasons.  The first is that I have enjoyed reading other pilgrims’ accounts online of their own Camino experience – both before I went and after I came back.   So I think that maybe someone might like reading this one.  The second reason is that it’s been an exercise in reflection for me six months after the fact.

I have purposely arranged this blog chronologically, making it like a story, the earliest entry first. (I edited the publishing dates to make it work out this way.  It just reads better, I think. To move ahead at the bottom of a page, just click on “earlier entries.”)   If you do read any of this, I hope you enjoy it.  Maybe you’ll go on your own Camino someday.  It was well worth it to me.  I’d do it again.

After three days in Barcelona we took the overnight train to Burgos from where we began.

We began in Burgos and finished in Santiago, August 17 - September 12, 2008.

Barcelona Sants Train Station

We arrived here at the station about a half hour ago.  Our flight into Madrid on the 13th, the impressive AVE train trip to Barcelona,  and the past three days in Barcelona were full and delightful, but I am ready to start walking the Camino.

We had a pre-Camino pilgrimage when we spent one day visiting Montserrat.  To Montserrat pilgrims have been traveling since the 12th c. to see the famous statue of the “Black Madonna.” I read somewhere that  Ignatius of Loyola made a pilgrimage there after he had been injured in a military battle and he shortly afterward wrote his Spiritual Exercises.

The overnight train to Burgos leaves at 10:00p tonight and arrives tomorrow in Burgos, Lord willing, at 6:53a.  The sleeping accommodations – a six bunk room – we have reserved will, hopefully, be enough to assure a good night’s rest before we start off tomorrow.

There's not a lot of space up here.

Small quarters for a big American

Rick Steves says it’s the way to go when traveling in Europe.  He always appears rested when he crawls out of a train bunk.

]]> http://kdsperegrino.wordpress.com/2009/04/29/sunday-august-17-2008-740p/feed/ 0 kdstonebraker train-me train-jim1 http://kdsperegrino.wordpress.com/2009/04/28/12/ http://kdsperegrino.wordpress.com/2009/04/28/12/#comments Wed, 29 Apr 2009 00:19:05 +0000 kds http://kdsperegrino.wordpress.com/?p=12 ]]> Tarjados

Sleep on the train was fitful.  The bed was short for me (I’m 6’) and it had to be even more uncomfortable for Jim. It was probably better than sitting upright in a coach seat for the whole trip but not quite the experience of pure relaxation that I imagined.   In the six bunk cabin, we had the two top ones.  Below us was a family of three adults and a little boy about five or so.  They were very polite and tried to be quiet for us.  But it was, if not claustrophobic, tight accommodations.  No one looked like a happy Rick Steves when we emerged in Burgos.

City gates of Burgos at 7:00am, Monday August 18, 2008

Arrived in Burgos about 6:30a,  still dark outside.  Walked into the city center from the station, less than a mile in distance.  As we made our way out of the station and down the street the first person we saw was a pilgrim headed out, westward, and away from us.  Even though we didn’t have our credencials yet and were not yet registered as official pilgrims, it was a moment of realization that we were finally here and on the way.  The near year that we’d planned for this had finally become real. We had our packs on our backs and were walking on the Camino, finally. (Albeit backtracking a bit into Burgos to get registered.)

There have been a number of point-of-no-return moments in which I, at least, have marked as part of this pilgrimage, e.g., the decision to do it; the permission from employers to be gone the five weeks necessary; the purchase of the non-refundable plane tickets (a significant moment for sure); sitting down on the seat on the plane; putting foot on Spanish soil.  But walking on the road with pack on back, as one walker among others, was the most poignant yet.

After passing by more peregrinos on their way out, we tracked them back to a brand new refugio just behind the cathedral. We met the hospitalero there, a very friendly and helpful woman named Marian.  She gave us an application to fill out which we then handed back to her, trading it for our credencial, or called by some, our “passport.”  She stamped it for us and we were official peregrinos. (Another PONR moment.)

Street in Burgos marked with brass scallop shells

Got some breakfast at a café right in front of the cathedral:  café con leche (hereinafter referred to as ccl) with orange juice and a doughnut like pastry. Cost 6E.  Toured the cathedral. (Realized an immediate financial benefit of being a registered pilgrim; the ticket was discounted upon showing our credencial.)   The cathedral is a magnificent building and so well maintained with a number of galleries of exquisite art.  It is among the the finer cathedrals I’ve ever toured.  I was particularly excited to stand in front of the floor stone marking the burial of El Cid and his wife, Ximena.  I had made a point to watch the old movie, El Cid, with Charlton Heston starring, before I left. Whatever its historical accuracy, it did give me a sense of the man’s importance to Spain’s history.  He is the George Washington of Spain.

Jim marking our pilgrimage beginning

Finally left around 11:30a and, taking pictures of each other beside a yellow and blue Camino wall marker and a painted yellow arrow to certify our beginning (another PONR moment), we were finally headed west.  Burgos itself is a city along the Arlanzon R.  Downtown is a lovely park and walkway which sits astride the river’s banks.  We retraced our steps on the river walk and before too long we had passed the train station and, inside of a half-hour, were outside the city.  The city stops abruptly, I noticed.  There is little of what I think of as suburb.  One moment it’s buildings, the next it’s fields.

About two miles out, we stopped for a rest and had lunch in a fairly new park next to what appears to be a development of some kind.  There are newly paved streets and street light poles, but nothing else.  Then we continued our walk into Tardajos, arriving around 3:15p.

The refugio is a fine, clean, simple place overseen by an old man named Bernardo, who spoke only Spanish.  When we stood before him, asking about a place, there was some confusion until I realized he was asking only for our credencials.  Ah, yes, I thought. I need to remember it’s the first identification hospitaleros need to see.  There are twelve beds in our room, all taken as I write this, plus another four beds in another room, also taken.  I sit here at the picnic table in the front yard and more pilgrims are arriving behind me. I don’t know where Bernardo will put them, if he can.

Where is the Camino? Just follow the yellow arrows.

Jim and I have decided to read 3 Psalms each day of the pilgrimage.  We did Nos. 1-3 this evening.  It’s a nice touch.  It reminds us that we are on a pilgrimage, not just a hike, that there’s a reason for this.

This little town of Tardajos is run down at the edges, but quaint in a European movie sort of way.  (Think Cinema Paradiso.)  The parish  church has a date on it of 1745.  The small town square has a fountain/public well in its center, with benches around and litter scattered underneath it’s trees and bushes.

The temperature had to reach the low nineties today.  We are going to start walking MUCH earlier tomorrow.

Observation:  While we saw quite a few pilgrims our age this morning at the refugio in Burgos, we are clearly in the minority here.  There is one Korean guy who appears to be in his 30’s and another European who is 30-40’s. All the rest are college aged kids.  We did meet and talk with a young woman from Slovakia, Natasha.  Her English is quite good, similar to the Czech family’s we talked to at Montserrat two days ago.  I noticed at suppertime, when a group of the younger pilgrims gathered together at the picnic table beside me, they were from varying countries of Europe and one Australian woman.  The language they defaulted to was English.

Two pilgrims resting not far out of Tardajos. Natasa, the film maker, on right.

I’m trying to learn some Spanish.  Virtually no Spanish person we have met so far speaks English and we need a few stock phrases for buying groceries, finding directions, saying who we are, etc.  I need to start carrying with me my yellow phrasebook, too.  Might help.

Walked 8.8 miles today.  Paid voluntarily 5E for the bed. Not sure if that was enough or more than enough, but somewhere I read it was a good offer.

Hontanas, El Puntido Refugio

Hontanas

We left Tarjados about 6:15a and arrived here about 1:30 or so. It was a hot, treeless walk with several long, uphill climbs and downhill treks.

Walking to Hontanas

We caught up with Natasha, the Slovakian woman whom we met before. She was walking alone and walked with us the rest of the day, although she did not stay here but went farther to the next albergue. She was a delightful companion. She had recently graduated from Luton University in the UK. She had a movie camera with her and said she may make a film of her pilgrimage.

She interviewed us on film and asked us why we were making the walk.  We asked her why she was walking and she told us that she was walking to “clear her mind” for what she wants to do now that she is out of school.

We also met today, for the first time, some Americans: two guys from Seattle who were camping with tents along the way. They said they’ve had few problems camping in open fields. They helped us buy some sausage and cheese from the back of a traveling food salesman’s truck. They also gave us some yogurt they wouldn’t be taking with them.

The restaurant below us, the first floor of this albergue (it appears that albergue, and not refugio, is the preferred appellation of these pilgrim-only hostels), serves supper at 7 and 10p. We did not eat here, although when I peeked in, I was a bit envious. It looked good and sounds like a lively place.

El Puntido

It was another hot, dry day and the longest so far – from Hontana to Boadilla, 29.5km or about 19 miles.  It was, however, not a bad day for either Jim or me, physically speaking.  We felt better than we did the past two. Starting early and with breakfast (ccl, oj, and tostada) helped.  And we also stopped in Castrojeriz in mid morning for another round of ccl and tostada.

Bart (r.) and I (l.) enjoying the cafe con leche in Castrojeriz.

It was a lovely restaurant we found along the path just inside the village of Castrojeriz.  Sitting at the table outside, we talked again with Bart, the Belgian fellow whom we had met the day before in Hontana.  This was his second Camino he told us.   But he was having trouble with his ankle, having, he thought, sprained it a few days ago.  He was going to have to wait for the doctor’s office to open in Castrojeriz and was wondering if this might be the end of his pilgrimage.   He was upbeat, but clearly concerned at his bad luck.  He told us he was part-owner of a bed-and-breakfast back home, but was thinking of a career change.  This was his reason for doing the Camino.

Castle above Castrojeriz

On the door frame of a church in Castrojeriz

I’m starting to see a common thread here:  the Camino is often used by Europeans to work through life transitions.  I had read that the Camino is to Europeans what the Appalachian Trail is to Americans.  But it’s not quite.   You hike the AT because you like backpacking and living outdoors and you want the challenge of walking a long distance. And if you do enough if it, it can be a life changing experience.

But the Camino seems to be other and more than that. It is less of a wilderness experience, to be sure.  But it’s more of an existential querying.  Pilgrims often start conversations with one another asking why they walk the Camino, like there ought to be a life’s purpose reason.  I will listen for more of this.

We mailed our postcards at a correo in Castrojeriz.  After looking up and down the streets for a post office, I finally asked an old lady where the correo was.  She looked at me and didn’t understand.  After saying “correo” several times, she finally understood me and gave directions.  But she also pronounced it properly for me.  It’s cor-RE-o, not COR-e-o.  How an accent makes a difference! (It was like I was saying pustOFFus.  So what’s a pustOFFus? You know, where you mail post cards.)  In any event, these places are not easy to find out here.  I may have to give up the idea of regularly sending postcards to friends and family if this continues.

The albergue in Boadilla

This albergue here in Boadilla is, far and away, the loveliest we’ve seen and probably will see.  We saw a few advertisements for it yesterday (business cards strategically laid out on stones along the path) and it was spoken of in our guidebook as particularly nice. No complaints here.  It has a courtyard of real grass to walk on, which feels heavenly in bare feet after the hours on the stones of the camino. There is a lounge outside the bedrooms with comfortable chairs to sit on and tables to write upon.  (As I’m doing here.) The buildings are old but restored nicely and they’ve got good showers.

My right foot is giving me some trouble.  The ankle bone on the outside is painful for some reason.  My LL Bean hiking boots have always been very comfortable. I’ve had them for two or three years so they are well broken in.   I’m not sure if this is the beginning of bad things or just a temporary problem.  It’s not blistered, just sore.  I will be careful to cushion it tomorrow morning.

Worth noting here is the pleasant watering hole and park we stopped at today.  It was after Castrojeriz and a short distance on the other side of the big meseta we climbed and descended and just before Itero do la Vega. It was called Fuente del Pioso.

A welcome oasis on the meseta.

It was a nice shady park with tables and seats and a fresh stream of cold water you could drink, water your horses in or, in our case, also plunge our hot sore feet into. At the park was also a man offering for donations only oranges and bananas and pop.  It was a wonderfully nice gesture.  I’d read that there are local people along the camino who look out for the welfare of pilgrims.  He was one of them for sure.

Not long after we’d started and just before Castrojeriz, we walked through the ruins of an old monastery, St Anthony’s.  There is supposed to be an albergue inside the old walls, but it was closed so I’m not sure if it was still in business.  The ruins were still beautiful and glorious.  The doorway into the old church looked almost cathedral-like.

Not sure how far we will walk tomorrow given the distance we walked today and the shape of our feet.  Jim is also complaining of hurting feet.  We shall see.

It's like this for miles.

It was another long, hot day on a treeless track.  The monotony of the landscape was broken occasionally by a small, brown adobe villages.  One small village which we passed through today had a small church that was open and a couple of children at the door who were tending admission.

Gone, but not forgotten.

After seeing the church and dropping a euro in the basket, we left, walking down through the plaza named after Franco.  We’d been told that his name is still  revered in some corners.  Like here, for instance.

Still, we arrived here in Carrion de Los Condes tired and happy. This small city is quite tourist friendly with lots of restaurants and stores that are open.  We ate supper with four Germans, fellow pilgrims in a German pub.  (I had a small salmon with a salad of paella, flan for dessert and a glass of vino tinto. It was the menu de peregrino and cost 8E.)  One of the Germans, Hartmut, was a priest who was traveling with Mathias, a social worker from his parish church.  It was good to talk at a leisurely pace with some fellow pilgrims.  Their English was good as well.

Carrion de Los Condes has two beautiful 13-15th c. churches.  The Church of Santiago is now a museum of church art, altars, etc.  We paid a euro for admission and it was well worth it.  The other church was still in use and simply beautiful.  As we walked around its interior, there was recorded music playing, chants and plain instrumentals.  It was much in keeping with the reverence of the church.  I could have stayed there longer.  There was an altar along the one transept that came from the Rhine region in Germany.  On it was a crucifix in the shape of an upward “Y.”  Hartmut later told us that there is another like it back in Puente La Reina.

We’ve met some interesting people on this trip.  Just so far there are two Italians who are sleeping next to me, a man and a wife.  There has been Natasha the young Slovakian woman, quite a few Germans and, of course, the Spaniards.  There has been also the girl from Australia, a man from Brazil we passed earlier today, a Dutch couple who were bicycling and Bart from Belgium. I still find it fascinating that the “lingua franca” of the Camino is English.

Monasterio de Santa Clara, where, it is said, St Francis overnighted on his pilgrimage.

The albergue we are in tonight is an old convent and monastery where, tradition says, St Francis himself stayed when he walked the Camino. It’s clean and well run, although the washing area is small and closed in, i.e., not open to the sun where things can dry more easily.

This daily washing of clothes is already routine.  The clothes don’t always dry out and handwashing gets them only so clean.  But you do what you can and hang the damp ones off your pack the next day.  It’s the way of the Camino.  Everybody does it and queues up for basins and drying lines on either side of standing in line for the showers. Life on the camino is life reduced to a few necessary tasks and a few necessary items.  It’s surprising what you get used to and how quickly you do so when there are no alternatives.

Via Trajana, the road the Romans built to transport gold from Astorga to Bordeaux. Straight and uncomfortable.

We’ve had the best day walking so far.  Jim’s foot was better and he walked faster than before, although I did have to be careful not to outpace him.  Our walk this morning was on the old Roman road, the Via Trajana.  This section is brown, straight and flat, but rocky and not the easiest to tread.  It’s been around for a while. It was the main route for the Romans between Bordeaux and the gold mines near Astorga (which lies ahead of us).

The saving grace of the day was the cloud cover and the breeze. Even more, once we began the second half, the landscape became more rolling and we saw many more trees.  I remarked how invigorating to my eyes it was just to see more than the flatlands of the past three days.

We walk slower than most of the other groups of travelers, but still seem to arrive at the same albergues on the same day. We even got a cheer from a friendly group we met earlier in the day when we walked into the reception room this afternoon. The camaraderie of which many of the guidebooks spoke is true for us.  The younger people may be cheering for us older guys as an honor to our age, I suppose. We are about twice their age. (They are also in the same sleeping room as we are. Six beds and not a one of them bunks. Hurray!) Still, there is a friendliness that gets stronger.

Jacques DeMolay Albergue

The town we are in was founded by the Knights Templar, thus the name.  Our albergue is decorated with big Knights Templar crosses. It’s got a nice, relaxing courtyard with trees, plenty of outdoor furniture and real grass to walk on.  The washing area consists of two tubs, but there is plenty of dryingline space here and there and out between the trees.  The reception room is also the dining room where we had dinner tonight.

Plenty of drying space for freshly washed clothes

One of our tablemates at supper here in DeMolay said the reason he was walking was to discover what his question was.  Having spoken with others and asking why they were on the Camino, several said they were looking for direction about work, career, etc.  For him, it was the question. Maybe asking the right question is more important than finding the answer to the wrong question.  I’ll ponder that for a while. I’ve got the time, for sure.

Jim has not been well all day.  He thinks it is food poisoning from the ham and eggs he had last night at supper. (I had fish again. Still safe.)  So we decided to stop here in Sahagun, about half of what we wanted to do today.  We found a private albergue, the Viatoris, not far into town.  It’s a sort of big-box albergue, commercial and nothing particularly quaint or historic.  But the beds are comfortable and the showers and toilets are bright and clean and numerous. Perfectly satisfactory.  It’s right across the street, too, from a bull ring.  But no fights scheduled tonight.

Of course, the thought that is on our minds is whether and when Jim will recover and if this puts us behind our planned schedule.  It’s early on the walk, of course, but that’s part of the worry.  So many other things could happen between now and Santiago.  Are we on time as it is?  What do we do if not?  Really, I don’t think we are in much danger of not making SDC if he is well within the next day or so. I tried to build into the original itinerary some days off if necessary. Still, the idea that we might not finish is always in the back of our minds.

We had coffee about an hour out of Terradillos this morning at a very nice bar in San Nicolas del Real Camino.  Then got on with the walk and arrived at the hermitage of the Virgen de La Puenta about 11:30a.

Not feeling so well as we arrive at the hermitage

It was yet another brick chapel of indeterminate but obviously great age.   We rested in the shade behind the chapel for about an hour, Jim really in much discomfort.  It took about another hour to get to the outskirts once we got going again. It’s a hot and cloudless day, too, which doesn’t help a guy if he’s sick already.

On the Camino, pants like these with zip-on and zip-off legs are the bee's knees.

My own health has been good so far with the only big problem being my feet’s relationship to my boots.  I’ve got a slightly warm spot on the front of my left foot, though not enough to be a  hindrance.  I’ve been using Band Aid Blister Block and it seems to be working.  I have gotten too much sun on my calves and on my nose. I’ve worn the bottom of my zip-off pants all day and that has helped a great deal. I’ve also been careful to wear my Eddie Bauer hat.

With luck, we should be able to do a full day tomorrow.  But having some time to spend in Sahagun, I’m looking forward to seeing the sights of the city.  (At one time, this area also saw some serious fighting between Charlemagne and the Moors.)  When it cools down, I’ll take a hike into town.

Observation No. 1:  The sizable cities we’ve been through have virtually no suburban sprawl.  Apartment living is pretty much standard for everyone. There are no residential subdivisions like we Americans are used to.  Even in the rural areas, farmers seem to live in their small towns and drive out to their fields.  When you come to a city, there is no outer ring of strip shopping centers, etc, before you get to the urban center. It’s fields and then the city.  For us, it makes getting through a city pretty quick.  And you know when you arrive and when you leave.

Observation No. 2:  I’m not sure what to think about all the bicyclists.  Walkers have virtually no conversations with them, except the occasional “Hola!” or “Buen Camino!” as they pass each other.   What I don’t like is feeling like I have to look over my shoulder every two minutes to see if there is one behind me.  Bicycles can come upon the walker very quickly.  It makes being a pedestrian a bit of a nervous experience.  And the bikers hardly ever announce they are behind you, unlike back home on the rails-to-trails where the spoken “On your left” is de rigeur.

Plaza mayor in Sahagun

10:00p. Jim stayed in bed while I went into the city center to look around.  I went to find a grocery store and get some supper.  Restaurants I found, but no tienda open anywhere. I ate at the Caracas restaurant on the main street of Sahagun.  Had an excellent seafood paella with a drink made of red wine and coca cola on ice.  I thought it was sangria when I saw others drink it at the next table over.  But when I asked the waiter for it by pointing at the table next to me, he called it something else.  (I’ll need to look this up to find out the name of it.  He pronounced it, but I didn’t recognize it.  I still asked for it.  I figure if you’re not trying the local food, you’re missing a large part of the experience.)   The service was slow, but the waiter was working on at least another eight tables.  He seemed glad that I was not in a hurry.   I tipped him a euro on a bill of 8.45E.  From what I’ve heard, Europeans don’t tip much.  I’m not sure if a euro is welcome or not. Another mystery.

(N.B. The red wine/coke drink is calimocho.  See Wikipedia.)

Sitting there on the sidewalk outside the restaurant I witnessed a small parade, a sort of medieval street show.  There were kites on sticks and people dressed up as various figures and a car playing a loud recording of music through a huge speaker sitting in its trunk.  It was all over in about fifteen minutes, but a great spectacle.   No idea what it was about, but Jim would have liked it.

Church in Sahagun

Sahagun had the largest and one of the most powerful monasteries in Spain at one time, say the brochures and guidebook. The city is full of church buildings and ecclesiastical treasures and is obviously proud of its heritage.  There’s a nice museum here of Santa Semana parade figures.  The ruins of the monastery, however,  are the main thing to see.  Sadly, they were made that way by Napoleon’s army when it invaded in the early 1800’s.

The monastery ruins in Sahagun

I’m still impressed when I see so many people out on the streets in the evenings here in Spain.  Old and young, couples and families are all out, eating, walking, and talking.  This is what you get when you’re not living in a distant suburb, I guess.

I noticed this, too, back in Carrion de Los Condes.  When the sun starts to go down and it cools off, about seven or so, people start appearing on the streets.  Barcelona was like this, too, of course, but there they didn’t go back to bed until two or three.  Or later.

Walked another half day today due to Jim’s stomach, but he is getting better and we hope to do all of Stage 19 (from the John Brierly Pilgrim’s Guide book) tomorrow to Mansilla de las Mulas.  It will be an easy day, only about 20k and the next day into Leon as well.  The albergue here is pleasant, a restored adobe structure with a fascinating open ceiling, revealing the rafters and supports. It’s got a small kitchen, too, which we used for fixing dinner.

Albergue in El Burgo Raneiro

The hospitalero is a German fellow who is volunteering for 16 days and who did the Camino last year.  He told me that the Camino association (whatever it is called) only allows volunteers to work for a limited time and 16 days is about max.  He didn’t say why volunteers can only work for so long and I didn’t ask.  I suppose it has to do with not allowing any one hospitalero to “move in” and not want to move on, depriving others of the joy of volunteering.

There is a tienda just down the road from which we got some food for supper and breakfast tomorrow.  This regular, daily shopping for food with the occasional restaurant meal is another of the things that separate the Camino from the AT.   We don’t have to carry so much food since there is almost always one around — if you can figure out the crazy Spanish working hours.   Meals are often bread, cheese, sometimes sausage, an orange or banana, and almost always some prepackaged, Twinkie-like pastry (which they sell by weight).   I’ve only been walking for what, almost a week, and already I’m tired of the food here.  There isn’t much variety, not on the Camino.

Older couple separating wheat from chaff on the lot next to the albergue.

Nearly all the walk from Sahagun today — or I should say, the alternative route from Calzada de Coto — was lined with sycamore trees.  Many of the trees were still young, but what shade they provided was welcome.  This intentional planting of trees along the camino out here in the meseta is a thoughtful idea. The temperature today was about 85 f but it felt hotter than that. This treeless, often breezeless meseta is a parched and weary land. Thanks for the trees.

I need to tell Abby and Guy that the trekking poles I am borrowing from them have been a great help.  Also I need to tell Pam that her E.B. hat I am wearing is perfect for this walk.  And tell Liz about the paella last night and the coke and wine drink.

The wayside cross with pilgrims in Mansilla de Las Mulas

We felt so much better this morning as we walked that when we arrived in Mansilla de las Mulas — our planned stopping place — we decided to push on and see how much more we could do.  We were told by a fellow pilgrim about a nice albergue halfway to Leon where we could stay.  So on we went, and here we are, about 6-7km east of Leon.   It’s a comfortable albergue and at 7E, reasonable.  It’s got a nice grassy courtyard with lawn chairs where we parked our sorry selves while our laundry dried in the sun.

The grass yards at some of the albergues are turning out to be real luxuries.  After hours of walking on the hot, dry, rocky and hard surfaces of the camino the feel of cool grass on bare feet is almost sumptuous.

The walk to get here was less than pleasant, especially today.  It traveled along the main highway much of the time on a not well maintained senda — and that was when we weren’t actually walking along the roadside competing with the traffic.  I’d read somewhere that this stretch between Mansilla and Leon was the worst, i.e., dangerous and unattractive, of the whole Camino. One writer even suggested that a pilgrim could be forgiven if he/she caught the bus between the two towns, just to keep from getting killed along the road.  (Brierly is very critical of this section, btw.)  We nearly did get killed when we crossed the bridge over the Rio Porma into Villarenta.  There is about an eighteen inch walkway between the edge of the bridge and the traffic.  I scurried as quickly as I could and poor Jim almost got his head knocked off by the outside mirror of a truck as it went past.

A fellow pilgrim, Erika from Germany, said she was going to take the bus into Leon tomorrow morning. I don’t think it will be a hard sell to Jim.  I’m all for it.  Our guidebook says the Camino gets even worse the closer you get to Leon.   It’s not a long way to Leon, but it’s not worth the danger or the trouble.  I will also suggest that if we do take the bus, we will have a full day of sightseeing in Leon.

This pilgrimage is supposed to be, at least some of the time, an opportunity to ponder the meaning of life, life with God, priorities, etc.  The good news is that it does happen.  The bad news is that they happen when I’m not in any position to write them down for future reflection. When I’m walking I have ideas that I tell myself I want to remember, things like the value of good boots, a meditation on life as pilgrimage, the diversity of ways pilgrims care for their feet, etc.  But once I arrive at the albergue and take a shower, they’re all gone.  Probably down the drain.

About 16 lbs.

I’ve sometimes compared this walk — both the CDS itself and my experience of it — to my hikes on the AT and my long-running wish to do the whole AT someday.  I’m not so sure any more.  I’ve got about 16-18lbs on my back.  To imagine backpacking such a long way with 2-2 1/2 times that much weight is not tempting.  The Camino may be all I really wanted after all.

The Camino between Calzada do Coto and Mansilla was nicely developed with a new surface and newly planted sycamore trees.  It made for pleasant walking.  It will be very nice in another five to ten years when the trees are big enough to provide unbroken shade.