We took a rest day and toured León, which proved to be everything that Burgos was, only better. Its gothic cathedral was far more impressive than Burgos’ baroque one, the tapas more plentiful, the weather more amenable, and even the costs (a little) less expensive. Here’s a shot of the main altar, which has been restored to its original gothic beauty:
Stained glass second only to Chartres
But it remains difficult to really capture the effect of the entire structure. I did this video lying on the floor with my hands over my head. It starts at the dark main entrance and then pans across the ceiling through the choir area toward the aforementioned altar. You may need to change your angle of view at the end to avoid vertigo!
We still have a problem getting used to dinner times that start at 20:30. In the smaller towns, the restaurants cater to the pilgrim crowd by offering a prix-fixe menu at early dinner hours. Here in the city, some offer a pilgrim lunch, but after that it’s tapas until dinner starts after 8:30. Since we were all tapa-ed out and wanted a real dinner, we waited; it was worth it, but when you have to get up at 5:45 AM, you don’t want to be finishing dinner at 21:45!
Braised octopus: it’s what’s for dinner!
Depending on times and distances, may be a few days before another post!
We have made it to the Meseta, and the weather is sunny and warm, but not too hot yet. These legs of the journey are mostly flat, through fertile croplands and small towns.
Kansas? Maybe the flat end of Colorado?
We left Castille, but I have to mention a bit of local cuisine which demands attention: red beans and sausage. It comes as the first course on many pilgrim’s menus, and of course it is delicious. But note the size of the serving bowl in the picture: at least three full servings! I told the waiter I wanted a soup, not a swim.
So much, so good
The Meseta, or Spanish plains, is the bane of many pilgrims, for it is hot, flat, and devoid of shade. That which plagued us earlier (cooler temperatures) has now returned as a blessing, so we are enjoying very comfortable 70 degree days full of sunshine.
Judy on break, beside the road
Judy resumed carrying her pack, and we reinstituted a 5 minute rest break every hour which really rejuvenates her. I have been working to reserve us a private room each night, and aiming for a more reasonable 20 kilometer a day average. The churches are as spectacular as before: some Gothic, some Romanesque, always some Baroque inside.
He wanted to ring the bell
The towns just come and go, like the scenery: Frómista, Carrión, Calzadilla, Sahagún. Some of the small villages are nothing more than several albergues and a bar or two, with a bunch of empty houses and a population of a hundred or so. Without the Camino, they would be history.
We did have one very interesting evening in Calzadilla. About 1:30 am, a bright light over our door woke us up: the fire alarm! I could hear the alarm beeping in the hall, but the door was cool, so I went out to investigate. I ran into another pilgrim,an Englishman, who was also wondering what was going on. No one from the hostel was around. I found a way to turn off the beeping, but the power remained cut off and the emergency floodlights stayed on. We inspected the building and found nothing: no smoke, no fire, but still an active alarm. The other pilgrim went out into the town to look for the owner at another building, while I continued to fiddle with the alarm.
Suddenly, a side door flew open, and there stood the owner, naked except for a pair of speedo-style underwear, and swearing a blue streak in Spanish. I explained in English that the alarm had been going off for over 30 minutes, that we did not know what to do, and that another pilgrim was out in the town looking for him. The owner swore some more, indicating to me this was not the first time the alarm malfunctioned, that we had to reset the master fuse, and why would anybody be outside? He reset the alarm, closed the door and turned off the lights!
So I waited until my colleague came back. He had woken half the town, but now there was no alarm. I got the owner to let him back in, and off we went to sleep. Except now I can’t rid myself of the vision of the swearing-hostel-owner-in-skyvvies. I may need Lasik when we get back.
Storm clouds in the evening over Calzadilla
We’ll be in León next, preparing for the final third of the Camino.
If you get a little bored with our constant rendition of “we got up early, we walked far, the weather was bad, we were tired, we ate well, we went to bed early,” imagine how we feel! We are on the Meseta now, so our view never changes. But just to change things up for you, Judy & I worked on a thematic post (tongue planted firmly in cheek) which we share with you now:
The Eight Plagues of the Camino. Yes, I know that ancient Egypt suffered ten plagues, but we’re not done yet, so I left some space for suggestions. In Camino guidebooks and on webboards/social media, you can find many positive experiences from the Camino. These are not those. In no particular order here are the Plagues:
Snorers. We’re not talking your garden variety, mouth-breathing, rumbler. In an albergue room of 20-30 pilgrims, you’ll always find some of those…in fact I am listening to several right now as I write this at 4:00 in the afternoon. No, we’re talking roaring, snorting, animal noises like a chain-smoking velociraptor. And regardless of how small a room you’re in, there is always at least one.
Rocks. For some strange reason, it appears the Spaniards have gathered rocks from their fields, and not made fences, but instead dropped them in piles on the Camino, especially in areas with steep hills. Not gravel, but just rocks, which then wash down the trail creating little creek beds to stumble across. You can try walking around them, but there lies mud (more on that later). If you step on them, you bruise the bottom of your foot AND get the possibility of starting to slide or fall.
Mud. I have read some magnificent trail journals by pilgrims who experienced no rain on their Camino. I hate them. We traded the gray clay of the Pyrenees for the red clay of La Rioja, both sufficiently moisturized into a thick slurry which sticks to your boots, your pants, and your poles. The mud covers everything, eliminating the chance to rest by sitting down, and making the optional daily clothes washing mandatory, if you want to wear clothes (recommended).
False prophets. These come in a variety of shapes and sizes. There’s the optimistic pilgrim who insists the weather will get better tomorrow. There are the random signs which tell you it’s 10 kilometers to Azofra, then it’s 12 kilometers away (wait, is Azofra moving away from me?), no, now it’s only 6 kilometers. But the worst are the Caministas, the folks who have fallen head over heels in love with the camino. You see, people in love are rarely objective. Chief among these is a certain John Brierly, whose English language guidebook to the Camino Franced is about as accurate as using the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales as a guide for travel through Germany. If you want to learn how to “experience” the camino, his book might work for you. If you are interested in more mundane matters like eating, sleeping, and not getting lost, not so much.
Domingo. You may know this as the Spanish word for Sunday, but it has a special camino significance. Spaniards take Saturday night very seriously, so Sunday does not start until noon. No kidding, there is no such thing as Sunday morning. Since there is no such thing, there are also no stores, restaurants, cafes, nada open during this non-time. When walking the Camino, make sure you factor this in!
Blisters. When walking 800 kilometers, it is quite likely you’ll eventually discover you have a blister. Blister prevention and care is a hot topic among pilgrims, and may be an even more volatile subject than politics! There’s the no socks, just sandals crowd, the silk liners and wool socks cabal, the vaseline group, foot powder fanatics, and that is just in the prevention discussion. Once you have a blister, everybody has a VERY STRONG opinion: Lance it! No don’t, it will get infected. Leave it alone! Compeed! Amputate! And my personal favorite: you wouldn’t get a blister if you (repeat prevention argument here).
Sudden Urges. As in, “I ate some picante pimientos last night, and now I have the sudden urge to do something about it, even though I am standing on a wide open trail in the middle of a vast vineyard.” Since all pilgrims face the same dilemma, we all eventually become rather blasé about taking care of such matters with a minimum of concealment. More shocking still is to think you’ve found an ideal, out of the way spot only to discover many, many, others have been there before. I will leave this picture to your imagination.
Timers. Europeans are very ecologically minded, and the Camino is a mass movement of people where much water and power could be wasted. Sooooo, your showers and bathroom lights are all on timers. You know it’s for a good cause, and it gets pretty easy to time the water and complete a shower without much trouble. However, many of the toilet stalls have a light timer far from the commode, meaning darkness comes upon you at the most inauspicious times. And the toilets are interior rooms, no windows, sometimes not even the timer switch is illuminated. So have a phone at the ready as a flashlight.
If you’re a Camino veteran, feel free to suggest additional plagues. I avoided anything ambiguous, like weather, since a cold rain in the Pyrenees might seem pestilential, but the same rain on a hot Meseta afternoon might seem providential.
We took a day to play tourist in Burgos, home of el Cid, the Napoleonic French occupation, a world-class cathedral, and some excellent tapas & wine. You’ll note the clouds which followed us across Spain have lifted, and the temperature hit 60 degrees, but if you look closely, you will see locals and tourists alike with coats on, as we still have some overcast and wind.
Note the coats
We managed to rest, sleep in, eat well, and warm up. I am fighting off a minor cold brought on by all that bad weather; Judy seems to be healing well, though she did take a header on the cobblestone streets here.
The CathedralThe main altarpiece
We have all our laundry clean, we have repacked our backpacks, and we’ll resume the walk tomorrow. We are entering the Meseta, rolling plains known for hot sun and little shade or water. I can’t say I won’t complain, but after what we already faced, it sounds pretty good. Enjoy the photos!
All smiles from the CastilloNo idea who this guy is, but I want him on my side in a fight!
Remember when Apollo 13 went out of radio contact with Houston as they circled the moon during their remarkable adventure? We were sort of “out there” beyond WiFi and even phone service the last few days. And we had a few memorable moments.
This guy was also at our albergue. Apparently he had a role at the Cathedral… it’s a long story!
In Santo Domingo de la Calzada, I wanted to visit the Cathedral where the saint is buried. I followed the signs to the entrance, but when I got there, it was the entrance to a museum. I asked the gatekeeper if I could go in to pray. Only for Mass, later, he told me. What if I just want to pray now? I asked. Three Euros for the museum, he said. Hmmm, “isn’t this how Martin Luther got started”, I wondered. We came back for Mass that night, and the Cathedral was packed, not with pilgrims, but with locals! Seems a local man named Antonio had died, and we were at his funeral mass. We were welcomed nonetheless. He had an impressive show of flowers, family, and friends.
Later that night, we stayed at the parrochial albergue. Our room had about twenty older adults, so I figured it might be loud snoring-wise, but certainly boring. Until about 2:00 am, when one Italian man started shouting. It started as just loud talking and banging about with his gear. As more of the pilgrims began to “shush” him, he got louder and nastier, although that was just by tone, as I don’t speak Italian. Finally I heard someone ask in Spanish what time it was, and the Italian said something like two-forty, turned ON the overhead lights, and stomped out of the room. I guess we’ll never know what ticked him off!
Last night we had a private albergue in a tiny town called Villamayor. It was so cold inside when we arrived in the afternoon, we sat outside in our coats and took a nap, as we had full sun for the first time in a week. Later the hospitalera turned on the heat, but then she turned it off again at night. At least we had ample hot water in the showers.
We are in Villifranca today, headed for Burgos tomorrow. Today marks the end of two full weeks on the camino. The path has become smoother and much less hilly. The weather remains poor: overcast, windy, with highs of 50 degrees, at best. It is cold enough to chill you without a jacket, but too warm and sweaty with one. After a day or so in Burgos, we will enter the Meseta, where perhaps some sun and warmth await.
It being the Sabbath and all, we slept in until 7:00 am, took leisurely showers, got dressed and hit the bar next door for breakfast. Since we have now visited it four times (!), We were greeted like locals.
Know how some folks have a knack for closing bars? We have a similar knack for opening churches. We walked to the church on the main square, which was clearly under renovation. As we deciphered the sign on the front door, a little church lady opened it, and explained we should follow her to the chapel down the street, where she pulled out keys to open early for us for Sunday Mass.
After Mass, we hit the local supermercado for a few supplies, and we’ll visit the town museum later. Nájera was the regional home of a kingdom once upon a time, so a visit is practically mandatory. Here are some of the photos I have been trying to post for the past several days:
I could have taken this shot 500 times so far. In the guidebooks, they always describe how good the camino trail is, but I have found it to be very rough, especially on the slopes. It may not show well here, but this is about a 7% uphill slope.
This is the main church in Logroño. If they all start to look alike after a while, you’re not alone.
These are shots inside the church in Navarette. It was a tiny village, yet the church was amazing inside.
These are our Aussie friends, Valerie, LeeAnn, and David, strategizing on routes and places to stay while waiting for laundry to dry.
Nájera is a compact, picturesque town built into a cliffside along a river. It has been a great place to rest and regroup.
We left Logroño without a lot of juice in the tank, and decided to walk just 12 kilometers to Navarette. It was a cool day even though the sun was bright; the temperature never got above 60 degrees. Tomorrow it may not break 50, with rain, so we’re looking at another short day.
Resting at the top of the hill
Judy’s knees started to hurt pretty bad, even over the shortened distance today, so we’ll try sending her pack forward to meet us at the next stop. There is a well developed system for doing this, and it only costs 3-5 Euros per stage. However, you have to make a reservation, and you need to know exactly where you’ll land the next day, which complicates the planning. Our hope is that the reduced weight of her load will give her a chance to heal.
We met up with the Aussie members of our pilgrim family: people we met that first night in Orrison and have run into repeatedly since. We spent the afternoon together doing laundry and working out places to stay tomorrow: such is the life on the Camino.
Your cross
Along the way today, there was a long chain link fence which was filled with makeshift crosses placed by pilgrims. I added one, with a prayer, for all those we promised to pray for, and all those who were praying for us.
While we were walking around Navarette, we went into Our Lady of the Assumption, the local parish. Mind you, this is a little village of 5,000 souls, but the church was magnificent. Unlike our visit to Barcelona a few years back, where many of the church buildings were repurposed as museums or cafés or apartments, every town in this part of Spain has a treasured church with remarkable art.
On Saturday, we got a little rain, but mostly just overcast skies and cool temps. Even without a backpack, Judy had some knee pain, so we’ll take a rest day on Sunday. After all, it’s been ten straight days of hiking, so we can use the break, even if this is a small town.
I have had terrible luck the last two days uploading pics, so I will just post this update for now and add some pictures later.
Clouds heavy with rainGent playing “Cantar no llores ” on violinCabras, no chupocabaras
Evening before last we ate dinner in Estella, then we decided to visit the local church. The doors were locked, but as we turned to leave, the door opened and someone invited us in. We wete very happy to catch the tale end of Mass. We had an overcast but not rainy day from Estella, and we made the most of it, running up another 27 kilometers to Los Arcos. We skipped the famous wine fountain at Irache, mostly because we hit it before 8:00 am, and who wants wine–even if it’s free–at that hour? The route was more ups and downs, with less towns and support along the way. The skies threatened all day long, but never delivered the rain which seemed imminent. We crosed the goat’s pass, and got into Los Arcos just before 3:00, and ended up with a private room in a pensíon again, as the cheaper rooms in the albergues were all taken.
We continue to eat ourselves very full of pintxos and pilgrim dinners, and we split two pitchers of Sangria before dinner, which was probably one pitcher too many.
We got an early start today, under more cloudy skies and possible rain, but our blessings held and we stayed dry. The walk was once again long: almost 29 kilometers, over the inevitable hills and valleys. At least we made it La Rioja, the famous wine region, and we’re staying in Logroño. We will certainly take a short hike tomorrow, because we are wiped out.
We’re staying in an albergue tonight, so we’ll doubtless hear the song of the snorebirds. I have been amazed how many times people ask if they snored, and looked honestly surprised when I told them they did! I think the Camino should have badges for snorers, rated by quality and type. A simple smiley face for non-snorers, a large “Zzz” for the rhythmic snorers, a boar’s head badge for the very loud, and a chainsaw symbol for the truly earth-shattering. The stickers would be in the dorm, and those kept up all night by the snoring could attach the sticker to the snorer’s backpack. We might even be able to establish rooms based on badges. Personally, I think I merit a solid “Zzz.” These are the kinds of crazy thoughts that wander through one’s mind at 1:00 am!
Today the weather was perfect, things fell into place, and we had an excellent Camino from Villatuerte to Estella. We walked a total of 27 kilometers, even going a few over our goal as we sought a pensíon for the evening.
Queen’s bridgr
First thing in the morning, we had some coffee and hit the road, anticipating an open cafe just a mile or two down the road, and there it was! Fortified by a tortilla española, we crossed through Punta la Reina and its famous Romanesque bridge. Now the Camino continued to wander up and down the local hill towns, but there were longer flat stretches with decent trail surface. We did walk on an original Roman road, which was historical but dreadful. I can’t blame the Romans: they only guaranteed their work for one millennium, and now it’s a full millennium past it’s wear out date, so of course it was a wreck!
A very unusual Y cross in Punta; prayers returned to all out there!
We had a delicious lunch of bocadilla, another tortilla española, and several bowls of fresh lentil soup…oh, and a cerveza, don’t forget the cerveza. We skipped past Villatuerte and landed in Estella in a nice little pensíon.
View from our balcony
None of which is to say we aren’t exhausted, a little blistered and sun-burned, and emotionally fatigued. But today was more like the Camino I envisioned, and less like some weird re-creation of Beast Barracks (Google it).
Things were pretty bleak yesterday in Pamplona. After I caught the blog up, we rested until the early evening. We decided we needed to get dinner, if nothing else, so we got up and went out. The pintxos bar across the street had some excellent snacks and wine, and the nearest ATM fully cooperated. So we even agreed to go on a little sightseeing hobble around the town.
Could have been anywhere
We were a few blocks from the Cathedral when we saw a little church tucked into a side street, and the door was open. You cannot fathom how random this seemed: every block has a church on it, and many have an open door, but something told us to enter.
When we did, we were warmly greeted and told in English that a multi-lingual prayer service for pilgrims was just about to begin. We stayed and joined in with 12 other pilgrims from Canada, Italy, Mexico, and Spain. Then three Dominican priests asked us all up on the altar for a Sunday evening Mass! It was all so beautiful, and served to remind us why we are here.
Mass on altar, afterwards
With full spirits and full bellies, we had a great night’s sleep. We didn’t leave Pamplona until 9:00 the next morning, and the weather was bright and warm. We had an uneventful walk through the suburbs, but with Alto del Perdón always looking on the horizon.
Very steep trails…But they’re full of loose rocks, too!I couldn’t resist telling the pilgrims which way to go
We climbed it, took the requisite photo op with the famous pilgrim statues/art, then completed another 8 kilometers (21 for the day) when we checked into our albergue for the evening. This one even has a pool, which is great tonic for tired legs!
Judy soaking her dogs
Finally, for my daily truth-on-the-camino fact, here is a shot along one of the nicer parts of the trail, where you can clearly see that while the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain, the pollen in Spain lies heavy on the Camino.
