My friend and one-time newspaper colleague Bill Osborne writes: “You’re definitely not boring, but here’s a suggestion you might address: Why did you decide to make this trek? What did you expect or want to get out of it? Now that the end is in sight, what have you gotten out of it? What have you learned about yourself?”
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Thirty kilometers today, to Arzua. The post right outside my auberge tonight says 39.123 kilometers (Yes, that precise) to Santiago.
If the rest of it is as delightful as today, I’m ok with it.
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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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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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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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Up before dawn in Fromista, a town with no there there, from what I could tell. Happy to move on.
Like a Peregrino pro, my bag was ready to lift and run with barely a zipper squeak to awaken my neighbors.
Open the front door and … FLASH! KABOOM! The sky erupted in fireworks and drizzle.
Back inside I was able to whip out my backpack condom for the first time. And it fit perfectly.
Of course, there was no more rain. Well hardly any. It began to come down just as I was steps from tonight’s lodging, the 90-bed convent Espíritu Santo in Carrion de Los Condos.
The sisters are marvelous, greeting each damp peregrino as if he or she were the first of the day. Many beds but spacious accommodations. And for your 10 euros, you get a Miraculous Conception medallion to wear around your neck.
My first coffee break came a half-hour after leaving Fromista. All over the cafe were placards with the number “58” written large.
“The number 58 looks like a spiderweb,” explained the owner. “They scare the flies away.”
Well, I’ll say this, there were no flies.
If you try it, let me know how well it works!
This walk was quick and easy, 13 miles over moderately flat country terrain. Mostly beside a highway, but with several villages and a riverwalk to add variety.
I’m going to fill in the rest as a picture essay because there is a Mass with Gregorian chant in an hour. My favorite music.
Leaving Población, we were given the option of a river trail or a walk beside the highway.
Duh.
I was with two of my favorite companions — Stephen from Ireland and Eduardo from Chile.
Stephen found a ring with three blue stones several days ago and he has been running around like it was a glass slipper, trying to find the owner.
Greta from Slovenia was sitting beside the river trail and …. The ring fit her perfectly!
Later, Greta told me the turquoise color of the stones matches the river Reka Soca, near which she used to live in Slovenia.
“I can’t wait to call my husband and tell him I am not engaged!” She added.
Leaving the river trail, we passed through some quiet and rather damp villages. There was a Celtic cross out in a field not far from the trail.
We stopped for a second cup of coffee at a cafe owned by a hilarious Brazilian gentleman. If you declined sugar with your coffee, he pulled out his blunderbuss pistol and said, “Are you sure you don’t want sugar??”
“Brazilians are the happiest people in all of South America,” said Eduardo as we left.
We took a short detour to visit the church of St. James in Villacazar. Foreboding on the outside, warmly inviting and modest inside.
Gonna need some new socks soon.
Today was only a 20-kilometer walk from Hornillos to Castrojeriz, but I still left long before sunrise.
There is something primal about walking alone in darkness, assisted only by a headlamp or the full moon.
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I’ve had a run of Irish companions on the Camino today (meaning the past 24 hours).
There is my perennial friend Eoghan (Owen) who I encounter every couple of days.
Last night in Burgos, Kate from Tasmania and Martin from Bristol (Eng.) joined me for some tapas before calling it a night.
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