This day can only unravel in reverse, because its still getting better and it is only 8:30 pm
Over in the corner, Andrew and Englishman is playing harmonica and another pilgrim is softly strumming a guitar. They are working out a gentle tune of their own making.
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Today was different, for sure.
We walked between a very busy road and a lush, beautiful landscape of forest and streams and grazing fields. Overlaying it all was an elevated freeway.
And all of this stitched it’s way through villages in contrasting states of decay and prosperity, often side-by-side.
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As with quite a few cities and villages on the Camino Frances, the most memorable part is leaving in the early morning hours.
There’s rarely time to take in the sights unless you arrive early or plan a layover day.
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From Foncebadon, the walk to Cruz de Ferro was all uphill, but short. Less than two kilometers.
It was dark, but already the sun was prying itself free from the horizon.
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Gone are the wide open fields of harvested wheat, straw, corn and sunflowers. Gone are the gently rolling hills. Gone are the treeless expanses that seemed to stretch into eternity.
Now the hills are aggressively challenging. The groomed pathways have given was to rocky trails. The landscape is densely forested. Serious mountain ranges are on the horizon. Stone fences and houses have changed from rounded rocks to neatly laid and hewn slate.
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Just after Hospital de Orbrigo, the Camino road offered two paths to Astorga.
Straight ahead promises more of the same as yesterday — highway traffic just feet away, but a relatively flat and shorter route to tonight’s destination. it is the traditional Camino Frances route.
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No surprise, leaving Leon this morning was painful on many levels.
My boutique hotel room was so comfortable after weeks of bunks, shared shower and bath facilities, 10-30 people in a dorm room, etc.
The privacy alone was worth the price. To have my own washing machine and heater, was beyond my expectations.
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Not much of a headline, but what can you expect on a day off?
I slept in. Folded laundry. Answered old emails. Slept some more. Wandered around old Leon. Grabbed a croissant and coffee.
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It’s not like I needed to be up at 5 am today to start walking. Leon is only 18 kilometers from the auberge where I slept — fitfully among the hackers and wheezers. (Swear to god, thought I was in a TB ward.)
Call it the tyranny of the mob.
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Today went by blazingly fast. So fast, it is barely half done and the walk is over.
The walk between Bercianos Del Real Camino and Mansilla de las Mulas was 17 miles and for the first time since I started, I arrived at my auberge before check-in time.
That called for a coffee and pastry at the adjacent cafe.
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