I have some of the things from the equipment list.
I’ve picked up a pack, a towel, a headlamp, and I’ve bought some shoes that I’m testing over the summer. If they work well I’ll buy another pair a month or so before I leave. Oh, and Sandy bought me a right smashing Tilley for me to wear. 
Well, the passport package is almost ready to be sent off, I’m slowly getting together my gear, and we hope to start booking tickets this month.
I still have to pin down my son, Kieran, as to whether he will be joining me on the camino. I’ve suggested that if he doesn’t want to do the entire walk, he could join me halfway in León.
Now, if only my ankle injury from last May would heal properly…
Only three months and four days, as of this post, until the Camino. It is kind of sneaking up on me.
Equipment is down to the last few items of clothing. I’m waffling on the shoes (do I really need ankle high or not) and the pants. I’m really liking the North Face Paramounts, but they are pricey… Regardless, I hope to have the clothes finished this week one way or another.
Kieran has decided not to walk with me, which is okay. If it is not his path he shouldn’t take it. But I have to admit I was hoping. He’s getting so much older and I’m sure that soon he will be spending more time away from us than with us.
The plane tickets have been bought for my trip as well as the tickets to Madrid for Sandy and the kids. I just have to book them the Vueling flight from Madrid to Santiago de Compestella. I also have my first and second night’s lodging booked in St. Jean at L’Esprit du Chemin. I wanted two nights to acclimatize to the region and time-zone.
I also have my mother’s flight to Germany and back booked. She will be attending a school reunion and then sight-seeing in Germany and showing us the area my family is from.
60 days to go…
I’ve started my training. My pack is all done up for the most part and weights in at 14 lbs. Last Sunday Sandy and I took a walk from home to the forks on the frozen Assiniboine River. I wore my pack and things went well. The Gregory really does a great job of transferring the weight to my hips and legs. We did 7.8 km and I felt good at the end.
Then I took the pack to work on Monday and walked home on the river for 6.7 km. I got home a bit tired with a little pain in my right foot. Tuesday I did it again, man I felt it then! My right foot is acting up and my back, just under the shoulder blades hurt quiet a bit.
I took Wednesday off to the give the body some healing time… My back feels much better today, but I still have some aching from my right foot. I’m hoping its just from strengthening the foot and ankle from the very bad sprain I suffered from last May. The sprain hurt off and on right up to this past January. I kind of worry about that on the walk, but as Sandy pointed out, what’s the worst that can happen, not matter what I’m spending 5 weeks in Spain. She’s a smart lady.
I’ve been losing sleep a lot lately. Partially, I’m sure, due to excitement and worry about my upcoming pilgrimage. It is making me a tad cranky and foggy, but I’ll muddle through. A friend, Rick, who is a trained hypnotist came over to help we ease off some of my worries and help me relax enough to sleep through hypnotism. We’ll see how it goes…
I still have so much to do in the next little bit as my family will be joining me in Spain after the walk and I have to organise all their paperwork and plans also as well as worry about lodgings. We are playing this trip by ear. We’ve never been big travelers, but in the past all of our small trips were minutely planned out and booked. For this trip we are trying to be more carefree. Carefree we are not normally, and it’s taking some effort to take a step back and take a breath.
A lot of small things have been swirling my mind too: find a stone, pack and re-pack, bring this or bring that, etc, etc…
Well, I finally have all the planes, trains, buses, and such figured out.
I know where to get the shuttle to get me from CdG airport to Orly airport. I also know where the train station is in Biarrtiz. It looks like a short walk from the airport. this will get me all the way to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. Then a short walk to the L’Esprit du Chemin.
Things are looking good. Forty days and counting…
I’ve been having some foot pain lately; the top of my right foot to be exact. Doesn’t matter which shoes I’m wearing either. It is thought to be tendonitis and it is suggested that I shouldn’t stress the foot for a week or so. Okie doke. One week of taking it easy for me. It still leaves me about two weeks of training before I catch leave fro St. Jean.
I did find that using a different lacing method has helped in minimizing the pain during the day at work. This is a good thing.
I’m down to the small little things of the preparation phase. Buying compression straps and such. Oh, I also bought some nice string from MEC to hang my shell from. Sandy and I made a couple of clay shells for the walk; one for my neck and one to tie to a walking stick. I should post pictures of the shells as they turned out rather nice.
We are hoping to have a nice dinner with some friends before I leave. I really hop that works out as La Fiesta Cafesito is an amazing local restaurant that specializes in Salvadoran food. The owner sings throughout the night, and he’s quiet good!
I wanted to take a moment to mention those around me that support me in my dream. I think sometimes these people are easy to forget in the excitement that is the mental and physical preparation for the Camino.
They are my family, friends, and even the company I work for (who thought it was so cool and even offered to change my pay over the past year so I don’t miss any pay cheques while on the Camino). They are the cheerleaders, ego-boosters, and confidants.
So, to my wife Sandy who will have to deal with house and home for 5 weeks without a partner and still encourages and cajoles; thank you!
To my sons Kieran and Aleksander who are indulgent of the time I spend on this; thank you!
To my friends, Rick, Chris, Michelle, Kelly, Jennifer, Penny, Clint, Johnny, Gord, Marg, and others, who have for the past two years put up with my fluctuations from enthusiasm to “What the hell am I thinking?”; thank you!
To my workplace co-workers, HR, and owners for all the support and well wishes; thank you!
To all the people everywhere that support these mad and wonderful endeavours; thank you!
Eight more sleeps before I leave for Europe; eleven more until I start my real journey.
I’m starting to hit my stride, less worried and more excited and eager about the trip. Not an hour goes by with some of my thoughts travelling to Spain. I feel more together and more self-assured. I had been worried to late as to whether I would be able to complete the Camino. But now, I’ve got my confidence back and feel good. I’ve concluded that if for some reason I can’t finish, it just means that I have a new starting point next time. Either way, I’m good with it.
I’ve done a lot more walking lately, with full pack, satchel and water bottle (although I have yet to find a comfortable way of carrying it). It feels good. The pack, a Gregory z55, feels very comfortable with almost all of the weight transferred to my hips and the spine of the pack is designed with a gap so most of my back gets air. Also, now that I’ve changed the lacing style on my shoes I’m feeling significantly less discomfort. This is a good thing.
Friday night I’m having dinner with some friends at my favourite restaurant (Salvadoran), and this weekend I intend to spend with my Sandy and the kids as it’s my last before I leave.
I thought people would be interested in the shells Sandy helped me make. I’ve always liked working with clay and enjoying throwing a pot when I have the opportunity. Sandy likes the more hands on work. We work very well together. I think these shells turned out very nice and I will be carrying them on my Camino. Once I finish my walk I’ll wear one and the second is destined to be thrown into the ocean at Finisterre.
As for snow, it seems that it really likes me. It is snowing today in Winnipeg and we are expecting 5 to 10 centimeters of the stuff. It is also, apparently, waiting for me in the Pyrenees…
One more sleep.
I’m sitting in an airport restaurant drinking a ten-dollar Heineken waiting for a meal.
My head is still stuffed with constant noise from the flight from Winnipeg. Too much sensory input, I think. I was stuck beside a fairly hirsute guy with repeated loud belches, sneezes, and coughs who would break into song as well as other minor social infractions. At least he didn’t try to speak to me, he just sang along with XM radio. I miss Sandy and the kids already. On top of that, the travel makes it hard to focus on why I’m doing this; what the goal and destination is. Now though, I am thinking of the quiet of the Camino..
Although I did get the chance to see Juno and the Last Samurai on the flight from Montreal to Paris, I didn’t sleep…
I am so tired, the best I can do is a series of observations:
I sat in Orly for bit and watched the other travellers until my plan boarded.
The flight from Paris to Biarritz was nice and short, thankfully as there were a lot of unhappy children on the plane. The food on Air France is quite different from Air Canada. I had a lovely Greek pita with lox and a nice little peach cake.
Once I landed I quickly found my luggage and caught a cab, whose driver drove like a demon. He made the trip from airport to train station in about six minutes.
From what I saw of Biarritz it look like a beautiful, if tourist, place.
Then after a quick hour-long flight and a zany 6 minute cab ride from the airport to the train station, I was on a train to Bayonne.
I haven’t had the chance to confirm my reservation at the hostel as I was supposed to, hopefully it’ll be okay. There I switched trains and noticed that like me, everyone had a backpack. There is even a man in the next car that is blind. Next stop, St. Jean Pied de Port.
And I lost it. Too long without sleep and I missed my family so much, it was hard. I got freaked and panicked over the upcoming Endeavour. Eh, I worked it out for the most part and after a really good dinner and after 30 or so hours of movement, I got some sleep.
I stayed at: L’Esprit du Chemin
I’m sitting at a hilltop restaurant in Roncesvalles having a beer. I feel clean and refreshed for the first time in what seems a long time, although the line up for a shower was an hour long.
Today’s walk started off well. I was feeling good and I made it to Honto and had a rest. It had been about 4 km and an elevation change of about +240 metres. I then worked myself up to Orrison (which has a great deck hanging over the valley, providing a great view of the mountains) at 650 metres. This was when the wind hit. It was a steady 30 km or so and gusted to about 60; all coming at me while I was trudging uphill. I have amazing windburn. Orrison is where I met Tim, an art student from Leeds. Originally from the States, he decided to walk the Camino to inspire him and to figure out where he was heading. I’ve seen him in most towns since then. He’s a decent sort.
When I got to about 900 metres above sea level the trail took a sharp turn up and my left knee began to ache a lot. Too bad, there is nothing there, so on you go. I finally arrived at Roncesvalles after walking 25.5 km and climbing from 620 metres to 1442 metres, and then down to 960 metres. Tired? You bet.
I have already lost a piece of clothing. Somewhere along the way there is a nice new white t-shirt that I had strapped to my pack to dry.
I set myself up in the albergue, and 13th century church/storage area/and, apparently, at one point stables for Napoleon’s men. I had a shower, had some clothes washed (cool, the staff did for only 2€), and put a cold pack on my knee. A very kind Spaniard helped me ice it earlier and offered me some ibuprofen.
I also bought a staff as I figured I would need the help on the trail.
For supper I ended up at a table with Rupert from Oxford and two Australians who currently live just south of Paris, Morag and Peter. They study climate change, which is cool. Peter is blind and his wife Morag is leading him. I’m in awe. All three were great company and we had a nice pasta dish followed by a great trout (head included) with some chips. A full bottle of wine and mineral water was included as well.
We walked out sated and tired, just in time to get back to the albergue and get ready for bed. I even slept most of the night.
I like the walking so far, but I am having trouble with some of the social aspects of the Camino. I’m not one to just begin a conversation with strangers.
I am missing Sandy so very much. It is like a physical plain. I have been separated from her for only three days, and I have been on trips for up to seven days in the past, but I think the distance is having its toll.
I’ve been trying to maintain my audio journal and I have taken a huge number of photos so far. I hope the photos are able to convey the scope of what I have seen, but I have my doubts. It may be that the vistas just have to be experienced in person.
Walked with Mette for a fair bit today and we had several wide ranging conversations covering everything under the sun. She introduced me to a German woman named Danny who is carrying a huge pack almost bigger than herself. Wow!
However, I screwed up today and I was not prepared. There was none of the expected stores or cafés along the way and I ended up with nothing but 12 dried apricots and water for the day; everything is closed. Perhaps it is a holiday. Not good. I’m going to have to watch that in the future. I only had a handful of dried apricots to get the 22 km to town. By the time I got to Pamploma, I was a wreck, and confused. I didn’t get enough food and I slept poorly. Not my greatest moment.
It is almost 5 pm now and I’m famished and a bit light-headed. I even got lost a couple of times on the way here, but the Spanish people are very friendly and helpful. One woman who saw me going the wrong way yelled across a very busy street to get me going the right way. I didn’t even know I was lost at that point.
Still missing Sandy, the kids, and Max…
Long, long day today.
I had no sleep last night as every little movement caused my knees to flare in pain. The left knee is swollen and bluish, the right is just swollen. This morning I gave one of my clay shells to Mette to carry. She liked it when she saw it tied to my walking stick and I was unsure at that point whether I could continue all the way to Santiago. The pain almost got me to pack it all in. However, I called Sandy and she talked me down and propped me up. Onwards to Puente la Reina!
So I walked, painfully, on. During the fourth day the ibuprofen and the codeine were starting to work their magic and my swelling did go down some and the walking became easier.
Somehow I made it to Puente la Reina, much to the surprise of many people. Mette’s jaw latterly dropped. They thought I was going to get a hotel and see a doctor in Pamplona. However, in my state I had been unable to accomplish it.
I can’t believe I made it.
I had an amazing pilgrim’s meal, some good company including Kim, Mette, Anne, Mo, and Rupert. I drank a lot of water as my body rebelled at the thought of drinking the wine. I said hello to Peter and Morag as well. I had not seen them since just outside of Zubiri. They seem to be doing well.
With the help of a variety of drugs and the first decent meal in a couple of days, I slept. Indeed, I slept in. When I woke up, the dormitory almost empty. Whoops!
It was a nice day of walking, my knees were just twinging on the inclines and the birds were singing.
In the first half of the walk I chanced upon Anne and Mo. They were having some problems with over packing. They had a bit more food than they needed. Since I had a relatively light load, I took their food and promised to meet them in Lorca. We had a nice lunch and I had a lovely ice cream while sitting in the shade in front of a very pretty albergue.
In the afternoon I travelled with Kathrina, Johann, and Patrice. They were very nice company and fun to walk with.
Estella is a lovely city and I was set up in the municipal albergue. The albergue is also a sport centre, so I enjoyed nice showers for a change. However, the municipal albergue is on the far edge of town. Which is good for the morning as it gives you a head start on the day. However, I estimate that it is a good 3-4 km back to the town centre. I made this trip several times. First to visit the town centre, then back to the albergue to have dinner, then back to town centre for supper when it turned out that dinner at the albergue was all booked, and then finally back to the albergue to go to bed. All with pained knees of course… Long day, but I slept well.
Off to Los Arcos. A wonderful day! My knees barely bothered me and the weather was grand! On the way I encountered Camino John. John is a retired Englishman who, since he retired eight years ago, spends April to October of each year driving up and down the Camino in his camper offering pilgrims water, coffee, rest, and water. He is an angel!
Made it to Los Arcos, but the town is full. No room at the inn, the Albergue, or the hotel.
I wondered about wondering where I was going to end up when I met a small group of people also looking for a place to stay. One gent stood out of the group as he seemed the most comfortable in the situation as he speaks Spanish. His name is Keith and we followed him about as he talked with locals in the hopes of finding a spot or the local priest in hope of getting some help. In the end Keith found people a place to stay in a garage while I got lucky and was able to share an apartment with some other thanks to Danny who chanced upon the right person at the right time. It is wonderful!
I had a nice dinner with Kim, Mette, Danny, Morag and Peter.
Happy birthday to me. Danny and Mette both wished me a happy birthday and Danny gave me a small pilgrim’s pin which I put on my satchel strap. They were the only two that knew it was my birthday.
I left Los Arcos in the early morning. It was still dark in the streets and the sky was a wonderful dark blue. As I was walking over the bridge, the bells of the cathedral rang out behind me. It was a wonderful. It was a very nice walk to Torres del Rio. Yea pain killers! The trail was nice and the weather was pleasant.
When I arrived at Torres del Rio I sat at a cafe and tended to my blisters over a cafe con leche and said hello to some fellow travellers that I had been seeing off and on. Once my body was tended to, I donned my pack and set out to look at the Iglesia del Santo Sepulcro. It is a very nice Romanesque church reputedly of templar origin. It is and interesting octagonal shape and nice stone work. My friend Rick is interested in the myths and fables that surround the order so I took many photos for him. I also noted that there is a Templar-themed bar which was unfortunately closed when I walked through.
Along the way to Viana I chanced upon Peter and Morag. We stopped in Viana and had a little lunch and relaxed in a small plaza with a fountain and some tables and benches. Just before we got to Logrono, we passed what I later learned is a Camino institution, the fig stop of Felisia. The site was overseen by a woman called Felisia. She provided figs and took donations. She had her own sello that says “Felisia – Higos-Aqua y Amor” (Figs, water and love.) Felisa has passed on but her daughter Maria now sits at the rickety table outside a little farmhouse. The stamp is still one of the most sought after on the Camino. I didn’t get me credential stamped as I am trying to only stamp overnight stays and cathedrals, but Morag and Peter got stamps.
By the time we arrived at Logroño, there was no room left at the albergue so I luckily got some space with Danny, Mette, and Birgit in a hotel. We sat around for a fair bit just chatting in the hotel and we did a short walk about in the late afternoon. We were surprised the amount of people in the streets in the evening. There were people everywhere, strolling, shopping, signing, etc. They were simply enjoying their city. I wish Winnipeg was like this, but there is not will to better the downtown there.
Soundscape – Bells of the Los Arcos Cathedral
Soundscape – Logroño Street
I had a good, yet hard, time of it today; 30 km in 6 hours. Not too bad.
I left Logroño at 5:45 this morning. My roommates from last night (Danny, Mette, and Birgit) were a bit surprised by how fast and early I was ready to head out this morning. Love travelling light…
I walked through the lovely downtown streets of Logroño in the early morning dark and I was surprised by the number of people in the streets. They were obviously coming home from a night of partying and were singing, clapping (a group activity in Spain), and talking. Everyone was in their late teens and early twenties. They were no causing any problems and it was all very social. This is apparently normal in Spain on the weekend.
I had a little bit of trouble finding the yellow arrows in the dark, but I finally found myself walking by a protected bird sanctuary. It was very pretty relaxing. Sat down and had a short rest.
I arrived in Navarette and I had a great pastry and orange juice. Life is good and my pace increased.
I met Anne and Mo near the end of the day, but I didn’t stay with them as I was in hustle mode, but Anne said that when we get to town she would check on my blisters. She is my hero.
After arriving in Najera, doing some laundry, and settling in, I called Sandy. Hearing her voice always makes the pain and fatigue disappear. I then met with Anne, Mo, and Kim and we had a few beers in the plaza. We talked about our travels and watched the locals set up for a medieval faire. Good beer, companionship, and nice weather. Yup, life is good.
Later, I had dinner with Morag, Peter, Kim, Anne, and Mo at a local restaurant that specializes in regional dishes.
I am currently relaxing in my bunk for a change, listening to some Gordon Lightfoot. I am in a weird mood. I think as I am currently having a love/hate relationship with the Camino. I miss Sandy and my family and sometimes the Camino feels like nothing more than some trial I have for some unknown reason decided to undertake with seeing my family being the final reward.
Strangely, after spending two nights in a house and a hotel it is so much more relaxing to be in an albergue. I guess it has to do with shared experience with those around you; the pain, the exhilarations, the fears, and the planning. Everyone has a common purpose.
I noted to myself today that there is no such thing as a solo endeavor. Everything you do can be traced to others in some way.
The Camino is not just a physical challenge that leads to betterment of some sort, but it also challenges us emotionally, physiologically, and spiritually.
It may not provide any ready answers, but it does help to frame the questions. As Mette said, it seems to encourage you to look at thinks in a backwards fashion; much like a proofreader who will read a sentence backwards to spot errors.
So, Will it change my life? I don’t know, perhaps is already has. I have met some amazing, wonderful, and strange people though, and from each of these I hope to add a piece to the puzzle.
Conclusions, mostly partial:
I wish I could see the lives of my children past my death. I hate not knowing how a story ends. I guess this is why death scares me so much, I just want to know what happens. Well that, and the notion of Hell or just plain nothingness have something to do with it too.
This morning Anne checked my feet again (she rocks), and I headed out for Santo Domingo de la Calzada (a chicken was resurrected here). The sky was grey the entire day and I had to pack well with all my electronics deep into the pack. I stopped for an OJ and an amazing croissant in Azorfra, and then did a nonstop 15 km walk to the city. At one point the mud became incredible for several kilometres. I mean it was really deep, and thick, and stuck to my shoes like nothing had before. I tried to walk on the grassy edges, but so had everyone in front of me, so they were not much better. It was a bit tough, but fun at the same time.
Good day, 22km in about 4 hours.
When I arrived in Santo Domingo I joined Keith and Kim while we waited for the albergue to open. We stood around and talked about the obvious tourigrinos. They particularly stood out as anyone who walked today would have mud up to at least their ankles.
The albergue is nice and it even comes with three roosters to wake us up. It is considered good luck if you hear one as you leave in the morning.
Anne and Mo found room at the albergue that is run by the local convent; it is just down the street. Anne again had to tend to my feet, but I’m happy to say that my knees seem to have completely healed! Yea! We sat about and drank some wine.
I went out for a walk, and ended up in a small bar looking for some cerveza and food. I was starving. So, I looked at the tapas that were sitting under glass at the bar. I asked for one that seemed to be some kind of fritter. The owner looked at me and stated, “Porco”. Hey, I like pork, and said “Si!” He looked at me again and said “Porco” and rapped his knuckles on the counter. I nodded, “Si”. So I took my food and beer and sat down. I guess I should have seen this coming, or figured it out, but I was tired I guess, so I ended up sitting there with pig’s feet in front of me. Well, I did try them. Not my thing, but the bread and beer were good.
So I went back to finish my laundry and get washed for dinner.
Well, dinner was not a great success. The company was great, but the food and service was okay at best. Of course, this is the same restaurant where earlier in the day I ordered pig’s feet. Should have known…
After dinner we did a walk about, as it was earlier than normal, and I ended up having a few beers with Danny Birgit, and Keith. Lovely time.
Only did another 22 km today, and I took a nice eight hours to do it in. These gave me an opportunity to rest and air my blisters often. It was worth it.
I traveled with Anne and Mo for most of the day and we hit several small villages in a row. This morning I had a wonderful coffee con leche and a boccadillo with cheese in Grañon with them and we looked in on a wonderful small village church. It was amazing. The artisans knew how to build a sense of wonder, and this was just in a small village!
The walk was sunny today and it wound through the green hills and fields on a gravel path.
In Villamayor del Rio, the last little village before Belorado, Moe, Anne, and I sat in the tiny central square, ate fruit, and watched numerous village dogs and cats. We had never seen so many in one place in Spain.
I ended up in a new albergue that seems almost like a resort. There is even a pool. I am not used to this. There is a nice computer lounge and the laundry it all new. The bunk beds are stable and all is good in the world. I had a beer in the afternoon sun with Danny, Mo, and Anne which we followed up with a nice paella dinner that Morag and Peter joined us for. The paella was universally loved.
Then I retired out to the patio to have a drink with Peter and Morag and they described their jobs in more detail. They are both working in climate research, which in my mind is not only a timely field to be in, but a vital one also. They described how they are working on models to track different gasses in the atmosphere, as well as some history and stories about work others have done in climatology; efforts such as tracking down climate information from medieval manuscripts and records and how someone is actually taking regular air samples and sealing them so we have a record we can go back to. Very cool stuff.
I’m sitting in Atapuerca in the main kitchen. I was to be in a semi-private area, but I was uncomfortable sharing a room with a woman. I’ve been in a room with several women, but that just meant that there were chaperones, in this case there wouldn’t have been one, so I switched for a bunk with Alex.
The walk today seemed long, which really it was; 30 km. I am doing well enough though. I was walking with Anne, Mo, and Danny. They help me from going off like a fool at high-speed.
We intended to walk to San Juan de Ortega and the last 12 km to get there was flat, boring, and hot. We were very much looking forward to a bed and shower. However, when we arrived, we found that the priest had recently died and the refugio was closed. It is hard to find out that you suddenly have a 30 km day when you are mentally prepared for a 24 km day. Sigh.
I shared some bread and cheese with my walking companions and we drank water and tonica while reviewing our options.
My companions opted for a ride. I opted to walk, just to see how I would do. Danny was able to ensure we would have rooms at the albergue, bless her and her cell phone, and they snagged a ride from a kind Spaniard.
I waved to them and headed on. The next part of the walk was not too bad. It had more shade than earlier in the day and it was very pretty. I noticed that at one point while I was leaving a wooded area that the clouds seem to race away from the tree tops at an unnaturally high speed. I assume it was some sort of optical illusion, but it was very cool.
I found myself at Ages. A very pretty little place, but the albergue was full. Ah well, only 4 km to Atapuerca. I had to stop halfway though as I was close to done.
When I walked into Atapuerca, Mo gave me a cheer and a beer. It started to rain.
In the evening Mo, Anne, Danny, and Alex decided to make dinner and asked me to join them. So we went to the store and picked up supplies. They would nt let me pay for the food or do anything as they said it was to repay the small kindnesses I’ve done for them along the way. It felt nice.
We had a lovely spaghetti dinner with wine and a fair amount of laughs, and then we sat around while Anne checked us for blisters. Ah, life on the Camino.
I stayed at: Albergue de Atapuerca
The next morning was mist, and lots of it. Visibility was at times less than 30 feet or so. It was a long, cold, misty, and rainy walk.
After a few hours I came across Peter and Morag. We chatted and strolled together for a bit until my knees started to ache. I slowed down for a few kilometers. I caught a second wind and met up with them again when they were have a rest stop near the top of a hill in the shade of a lone tree.
Our intention was to take the southern route into Burgos as the normal route leads you through 10 kilometres of industrial wasteland. Most guide books recommend avoid it by taking the south trail which is just a few kilometers longer but much nicer, or to take a bus from the outskirts of Burgos from the little bedroom community of Villa Fria. Well, we missed the south turnoff and ended up in Villa Fria. We were not to sure where the bus stop would be but Morag, an astute student of history and European culture surmised that it would be by the cultural centre of town; the church. She was right, it was right across the street from the church.
We found it quite strange to be in a motorized vehicle for the first time in almost two weeks. Fortunately the ride was relatively short and we were deposited near city centre. We found our way to the cathedral with the help of Peter’s GPS phone and we separated as I was looking for the albergue and they were going to try for a 2-star hostel or hotel.
The albergue is not too great. It had started to rain while I waited in line and the albergue itself is humid and wet. Really one of the least comfortable albergues I’ve seen. Everything felt damp, and shortly so did all my clothes and gear. I was going to start running out of dry clothes soon. Oh well. Life on the Camino.
I went to the Burgos city centre with Keith, Alex, and Birgit and we had an amazing supper at Restaurante Meson de los Infantes. It was the best meal I have had on the trip so far. Garlic soup with an egg in it and a roast chicken to die for, the obligatory french fries (they get served with everything here) and then cheese drizzled with honey for desert. Then we rolled to the cathedral. I was gobsmacked! I’ve never seen anything like it! It was immense, ornate, and inspiring. I was amazed by the shear devotion and man-hours that went into the building and the artworks. I even saw El Cid’s tomb.
Keith and I then wandered in the rain searching for bank machines. We were wrapped in the two very thin ponchos I had luckily picked up in Belorado, mine was yellow, and Keith’s was orange. This was followed by a few hours shopping for socks, postcards, fruit, bread, ponchos, stamps, and phone cards. Then Keith took me to the old city of Burgos to have a look around. Keith is a right, good mate. We saw some statues of El Cid and I think a Constable.
We started to head back to the albergue by way of the cathedral and stopped to make calls our Sandy and Alice. While hanging around the pay phone, Ellen found us and noted in her wonderful Dublin accent, that we “Look like ****’in condoms!” I like Ellen.
So we had some wine and beer in a street café with her and Danny (who graciously suggested I call Sandy on her cell phone as my phone card was giving me trouble) and we then paid a visit to Anne and Mo as they were in a hotel not far away. Keith and I had a glass of wine and we exchanged contact information with Ellen, Mo, and Anne ad we were not sure if our paths would merge again. Then back to the albergue, a damp sleeping bag and a sleeping pill.
Left Burgos in the rain. It kept up for most of the day. Fortunately, I had my new poncho.
I walked steady for 9 km to Taradajos. Occasionally, I could see Keith’s yellow slicker in the distance moving quickly and possibly Peter and Morag’s green and red gortex jackets as well as I moved though the rolling hills and valleys. When I got to Taradajos I sat with Peter, Morag, and Birgit just long enough to say hi over a café con leche and a pastry. After they trekked out, I leaned back with my eyes closed and recouped some energy before starting out again myself.
I seemed to pick up a bit of euphoria. I like to think it was the alchemical mixing of coffee and sweet pastry with 10 days of ibuprofen, sleeping pills, and codeine. I felt great and I trudged on at a fairly good clip.
Partly due to my temporary vigor and partly due to the rain which left the paths submerged and muddy;I caught up to Peter and Morag, and trust me, they can move at a good clip. It was a frightful walk the last 6 km to Hontanas. Most people were walking off the track on the elevated side, but it was rocky and treacherous. Peter and Morag had to walk right down the centre in most cases, as it was too difficult for Morag to lead Peter over the rocks. I walked with them for a bit and then decided to move on in hope of getting a room before they were all taken – a very real concern this year it seemed.
When I got to the Hontanos, the private and very nice albergue was already booked. Keith, of course, moved like a demon when he walks and he had already checked in and having a beer. I moved on to the municipal albergue, which turned out to be very nice as well.
I noted a hotel up the hill as I had walked into town so I decided to see if they had any rooms left. It turns out they had one and I reserved it for Peter and Morag. They were having a rough day with all the deep water and mud and were soaked past their knees. They were happy to have a nice place for the night.
I did some laundry and then sat in the café. I had a cerveza and wrote postcards to Sandy and the kids. I spotted Keith and we sat at the counter and had another. It had been a long day.
We sat down with Peter, Morag, Katie, Danny, and Birgit for some wine. Actually, I believe it was two bottles, but there were several of us working the issue. We ended up having dinner at a large table together. It was the usual good food and companionship, and a fine time.
After dinner Keith, Danny, Birgit, and I joined Peter and Morag in their room to discuss strategy for the next day. We decided that with all the traffic on the Camino and limited destination possibilities for the next day, we would be best off booking the next night in advance. So, Keith called a Pensione in Fromista for us all. Then we all went back to our respective albergues to get some sleep.