mrbrianking

The landscape around here is taking on a distinctly Irish look. There are green fields and hills, stone walls, old stone sheds. It all seems so familiar. So is the weather. We woke up yesterday morning to rain. Our route for a couple of hours was steeply downhill, over a very narrow, stoney track. The rain changed to mist, then to low dampening cloud, then back again. It has gotten warm.

We reached Ponferrada at about 1 o’clock. If we don’t stop here, we must go on for a further 12 km’s. In these conditions, we decide to stay. It’s a small city, with a strong Roman and Knights Templar flavour. It’ll make for a pleasant afternoon. And sure, what’s the rush?

Met up with some friends for dinner last night, which was really nice. We headed out this morning in the rain. It wasn’t very heavy but it was persistent. Hour after hour, until everything was wet right through. When we got to Villafranca, we decided that enough was enough. We would stay the night. We found a lovely albergue, run by the nicest family. Mother, father, two daughters. All our clothes are hung out by the fire and we are showered, fed and happy.

We sat by the fire in the bar and played the owners guitar and sang songs for about two hours. Things are looking up. Now, if only the sun shines in the morning, we’ll be on the pig’s back. We live in hope.

El Ganso, where we stayed last night is not the centre of the universe. It is small and isolated. It is described in the guide book as, “a hauntingly crumbling village”. Enough said. To find some action, we took ourselves down to “The Cowboy Bar”. After all, it was public holiday Friday. Party time. When we got there, there were two ladies sitting in the bar. They left shortly afterwards. There was, however, a western on the television ….. dubbed into Spanish. We didn’t stay long.

It is early morning. It is raining. We are wrapped in our 21st century gortex wet gear. It matters not. We are wet through and through. We continue to walk. We continue to climb.

Today was a significant day. We crossed the mountains, (Montes de Leon). We passed the highest point on the Camino. We finished our third week of hiking. And, we reached the Cruz de Ferro. This is a special place for pilgrims. Having hiked for three weeks, having spent many hours counting steps, having had this time to clear my mind, I finally get to leave behind what burdens I have carried across these last few weeks. There are many more miles to hike but they are for looking to the future. They are for settling with the past, accepting it’s bounty and thanking it, for the strength it has given me, to go on.

We cross the mountain and descend. We meet friends. We eat, drink and talk our fill, until it is time to sleep. Tomorrow will be different. But still, we will go on?

Thank god we’re out of the flatlands. We have spent days walking across flat open track, uninteresting for the most part and much of it close to busy roads, so that we had noise and traffic smells for company.

We finished yesterday in a town called Hospital de Órbigo. The entrance to it was across a beautiful bridge that’s built on top of a bridge, that’s built on top of a bridge, etc., going back to Roman times.

There is a wonderful albergue there, with gorgeous food served and sing-songs after dinner and generally good craic. We didn’t find it. We stayed in an albergue that is probably a thousand years old. I can’ t imagine how many monks, pilgrims and Knights Templar have slept in that room before. It was very atmospheric, but not much action. And we had to cook our own dinner. That is to say, Vicki had to cook our own dinner. I poured the wine. And opened the pasta pack.

Today we got back into the hills. What a relief! Pleasant countryside, varying landscape, the track rising and falling through farmland. Oh yes, and rain. Well it wasn’t too bad really. More threatening than real with occasional mist. Enough to make you keep your coat on.

Then we were attacked by a Roman legion. We went through the lovely town of Astorga in the early afternoon. Today is a holiday for Mayday. Lots of celebrations and festivities going on. People in costume. Parades, markets. And the attack of the 4th legion. We escaped. But not before having lunch.

We hiked on as far as a village called El Ganso. This leaves us relatively close to the mountains for our climb tomorrow when we reach the highest point on the Camino at Punto Alto (1,515m), and also the Cruz de Ferro, where we will leave all our troubles behind.

I hope it keeps fine!

We get into Leon at about 10am. It was only a short walk from last night’s lodgings. The guide book said that this route was along a main road, quite dangerous and recommended taking the bus. In fact, the way was a pleasant mix of country lanes, industrial outskirts and commercial suburbs. The path was clear and kept away from the main road, except for two elevated crossings by footbridge.

As we approached the boundary of the city proper, we were met by a very official group who wanted, no, not to keep us from the town, but to welcome us. They gave us maps and directions and wished us merrily on our way. Very nice.

We checked into a hotel, (what luxury!!), and went walking the streets of this very old, historic city.

As we were viewing Gaudi’s famous Casa Des Botines, a little old lady approached and started to tell us all about it, the history of the building, the history of the design, the history of Spain, the works of Gaudi, the American presidents who have visited, etc., etc., etc. ………… in Spanish!! Well, I was told that that’s what she told us about. I don’t speak a word of Spanish, (other than, “Dos cervesas por favor”, of course). I kid you not, she went on for a full fifteen minutes without pause. After five, I began to show a certain disinterest. It had no effect. Three times, I thought she was about to stop and leave, but no, she just kept right on. When eventually she beckoned us to follow her across the square to demonstrate a point more clearly, I said enough. Yes, thank you, but enough. She got very indignant and told us we were rude. She made to leave, but came back twice to berate us. It seems that in spite of the ravages of the Romans, the Visigoths, the Moors and El Cid, a few still got through!

Nothing for it but to find a nice cafe/bar and have a beer. After that, it didn’t feel so bad.

I had heard that the central stretch of the Camino was less interesting than other parts. Apparently, those who are short of time, often skip this bit and take a bus from Burgos to Leon, saving themselves a week. I can see why. After the beauty of the Pyranees and the rich landscape of LA Rioja, the last few days have been pretty dull. Long stretches of flat countryside. Some very long treks without a village, house or break area.

Also, the weather has gotten chillier and the breeze is right on the nose. It’s at times like this, that the will can weaken. By the time we got to El Burgo Ranero yesterday, we were ready to stop for the day. We had done 24 kms and there was not another place to stop for 13 more. Also, the sky was getting dark and thunder and rain was on the way.

In most towns, there are yellow arrows painted along the streets to help you find your way. In El Burgo Ranero, they are painted in every direction. As a result, we followed what we thought was the route, only to find ourselves at an exit from town. Turn back and try some side streets. Then we spotted an Albergue. And they had room. Plenty of room in fact. We checked in and went looking for our beds. To make a long story short, this place was the nearest thing to the Bates Motel that I’ve come across. And to make matters worse, we had missed a lovely Albergue a street down, where some friends had booked in. At least we joined them for dinner and had a very pleasant evening. But we kept our door locked last night!

I hope that today was the last of the long days in wide open flat country. We have stopped just short of Leon. We’ll be in there early tomorrow and have a half day and evening to explore. I’m looking forward to that.

“So, how do you like this lovely sunny Spanish weather?” This comes from a young man who has moved up beside me on the road out of Carrión. With a shrug of his arms, he moves quickly on, at a young man’s pace, and leaves me to ponder his question. He is referring to the cold wind blowing into our faces, damp and dark and biting. The guidebook describes today’s section as being “flat and somewhat featureless”. It also says that there is little shade. I think it means from the sun.

As I look after him, I can’t help but wonder about this Camino. This seemingly endless procession of people, young, old and everywhere in between, moving westwards. Ever westwards. Just people walking. To what? To a challenge? To a decision? To enlightenment? It’s amazing how many will say that they have just given up their job and are looking to the Camino for guidance on what to do next. Or for what God has in store for them. All walking. Westwards!

There is nowhere to stop for 18 kms, so we hike on to Caldadia for a long slow lunch. We deserve it! When eventually we get back on the road, everything seems better. It’s warmer. It’s dryer. The feet feel better. The kms shorter.

As we approach San Nicolás del Real Camino, we notice that we are in Hobbit land. Yes, real hobbit houses! I ask the girl at the albergue about them and it turns out she lives in one. She proudly shows me pictures of the inside. It’s a funny old world!

Oh and by the way, today we passed the halfway mark. Not that we’re counting, of course. Not half!

The Canal de Castilla was constructed during the last half of the 18th century and the first half of the 19th century. It is one of Spain’s few canals. It was built to transport wheat grain but, when railways were built in the nineteenth century, the canal began to be used as an irrigation system. So we see it today, as we join it for a while on our journey westward. It makes a very pleasant alternative to the route along the road to Frómista.

We are about a week out of La Rioja and the change in landscape is remarkable. Instead of the endless fields of grapevines, that we saw in Rioja, here there is wheat. Miles and miles of it. As far as the eye can see, there are fields after fields of wheat. Of course I had to ask what it was. I wouldn’t know a wheat crop from a banana stalk. But I’m reliably informed that it’s wheat. And all watered through miles Of pipes and channels, fed from the Canal de Castilla. It’s quite a sight.

We have arrived at Carrión de Los Condes and, for the first time, we found the albergue full. The hostel is full. What’s going on? There is a festival going on. That’s what! It is an annual festival of agricultural machinery and equipment. The streets are filled with sparkling new tractors and combined harvesters the size of a building. (Actually, I don’t know what they are, but there bigger than my lawnmower, and they have all sorts of sticky outy, spirally, farmy looking things attached to them). There are also many stands of breads and cakes and meats and cheeses and there are carousels and toy stalls. The whole population is walking the town, despite the cool weather and a wild Saturday night is in store.

Not for me! I’ve been walking all day. I’m heading for bed, now that I’ve found one in a small pension, just off the main square. Let the partying be for those who are celebrating the festival of machinery, designed to take in this years wheat crop.

It was very quiet, as we walked out of Burgos on Thursday morning. The streets were almost empty. Indeed, the few people who were moving around stood out from the general lack of activity. By the time we cleared the outer suburbs it was after 9 o’clock and some window shutters, on surrounding apartments, were going up. We discovered later, that it was a public holiday. The anniversary of some battle against the moors, hundreds of years ago. Probably involving El Cid. He was a big cheese around Burgos in his day. There is a monument to him and his portrait appears in various places around the city.

An hour out of the city and we run into major roadworks across our route. They are building new motorways and bypasses. Of course there are no diversion signs for the walker and no workmen around because of the public holiday. Along comes a group of four hikers, who happen to be locals. They step over some tape and straight onto the work site and call us to follow. They lead the way across the site, through large concrete pipes and between material storage dumps, and out onto the Camino. They explain that this has saved 3 kms from diverting around the work site. They also tell us about the public holiday. It’s amazing who you meet and what you learn on this trail.

We reached a spot today that Tus, a Norwegian we had been talking to, says is his favourite spot on the Camino. It is Alto Mostalares and is a climb out of the town of Castrojeriz, where we had lunch. From here, we have 16 kms to get to Boadilla, where we intend to stop tonight.

I have long realised, that I have reached that age in life, when the movement of any major joint is accompanied by sound. This is particularly true in mid afternoon, after a break for oranges and chocolate. To get feet under me, and legs to move is a major operation. It is achieved with much groaning and ouching. Several very short steps have to be taken rapidly, while the upper torso remains parallel to the ground. Very slowly, the head comes up as the back straightens and the steps take on normal pace length. The whole procedure takes about a hundred yards to complete and equilibrium is not achieved for several minutes.

Never mind, the Albergue in Boadilla is excellent and the pre-dinner company is first class.

I have received emails from a very large percentage of my readership in which he has demanded a map.  I’m afraid this is the best I can do for now. It’s a driving map, but it gives some idea of the pilgrim’s progress.

It’s been a day of contrast. Contrast in weather, contrast in terrain. Contrast in location. We started out from the village of Cardeñuela. Over the last eleven days, we have stayed in buildings that were from a couple of hundred years, to a thousand years old. The building we stayed in last night, has stood since 2011. Or thereabouts. It’s still being built, in fact. Yes, it is a new albergue, so new, it wasn’t even in my guide book. It serves good food, nice wine and there was plenty of company.

Anyway, we started out in cool conditions with threats of rain, and walked small country roads for about an hour, until we came to an airport, which we circumnavigated, to arrive at a busy road through an industrial zone. This road led straight to the city but we took a small, grassy track along by a river. It had by now become very warm and we followed the river all the way to the centre of Burgos.

The previous night, we had booked a hotel/hostel online, so we now off loaded our bags there and went for a beer. Sitting in the square, it was so warm, that layers of clothing were removed. We met with David, an Australian friend and went to view the old city. The centre piece is the 13th century cathedral of Santa Maria. It is quite spectacular. It takes a few hours to work your way through it. And it was cold in there! By 4 o’clock, I seriously regretted my earlier wardrobe choices. I had reached the cathedral crypt and was just about as cold as the 15th century occupants of the tombs around me. A quick exit was called for, but by now, it was just as cold outside, and beginning to rain! A dash back to the hotel to warm up, get my coat and go for dinner.

Strolling in the city was nice and quite a change from yesterday’s hills and forests, but it’s back to the track tomorrow. Ever westward!

The morning is cool. No, no, to be honest, the morning is cold. Yes that’s it. That’s why my hands are frozen on my walking stick. The morning is cold!

We leave Santa Domingo de Calzada at about 8.15 and promise ourselves a breakfast at Grañon, which we should reach in little over an hour. We get to Grañon, but Grañon has no breakfast. Nothing open. Grañon is closed. This is not good news for a hungry hiker, on a cold morning. There is not, however, much choice. We walk on for another 40 minutes. We leave LA Rioja and enter the province of Castilla y Leon. At least here, we find food. Sitting outside a nice cafe, breakfast is shared with about 10 other pilgrims. We all in turn have a go at trying to fix Vicki’s walking stick, which has somehow detached itself in the centre. We all try but none are successful.

As we walk along, I think about how far we’ve come, and how far we have to go. It is hard to know how to measure such things on the Camino. I could look at a map and point to where I am. But in many ways, I don’t know. I walk all day. Tomorrow, I will walk again. It is that way. It really doesn’t matter where we are. We live in a world of walking forward. If I try to think about measuring it, I don’t know whether to measure in km’s or days. And how many we’ve done and how many remain is unimportant. I’m sure it will be important when there are only 3 or 4 days left. But right now, it is only about walking. Nonetheless, there does seem to have been a disturbance in the space/time continuum. All through La Rioja, there are wooden poles, showing the distance to Santiago de Compostela. The last one I saw, before leaving LA Rioja, showed 555 kms. Now in Castilla y Leon, I see signs showing 575 kms left. Oh, oh. A quick check that we are actually going the right direction. Everything seems ok. I expect someone will tell me, if I’m heading back to France.

By the time we leave Belorado we’re thinking, “Let’s do another hour or so and look for somewhere to stay”. There are some pretty sleepy villages along the route. Tostantos has an albergue but our guide book tells us that all mattresses are on the floor. We move on. The tiny village of Epinosa has a suitably tiny, and very old albergue. It also has a bar attached and the thoughts of cold beer and €5 for a bed for the night are irresistible. We collapse into some chairs with cool glasses in our hands. We are joined for dinner by a mixed group of Americans and Brazilians. They are lovely people and we have a very pleasant evening with them.

We’re getting close to Burgos. That’ll be a break from pilgrim and a day as tourist. Looking forward to it.