But since lately my nights have been a thrash-fest of aching everything and multiple doses of Advil, I thought I'd try it.
That's not to say I haven't enjoyed the last two days. I have. I do think I've even turned a corner on the ability to tolerate the physical demands of this project.
Monday I felt especially good. It was a relatively short day (20.5 km) on a relatively flat route. I started in Hornillos Del Camino under cloudy/foggy skies with no one around me. Somewhere around kms 6-9, the path got really muddy and difficult to walk on. It was about this time I spotted another pilgrim ahead of me, but I couldn't tell who it was, and it took me a long time to catch up because it was such slow going (there's no going off piste because on either side of the path is plowed field -- even muddier).
The other pilgrim finally sat on a rock to rest, and I realized it was an older woman I hadn't seen before. I passed her, and continued on into a little town called Hontanas, where I found a bar filled with flies and cats, and ordered a real Coke and a sandwich filled with plain omelette. It was a huge sandwich (at least a foot long), and there was no way I could finish it, so I surreptitiously dropped bits of egg on the floor for a very handsome black and white cat.
Soon the other pilgrim walked in. Now we were practically family, so I sat there for a bit while she chatted with the owner (sometimes I can keep up in Spanish now, but sometimes I only get the topic, but not the speaker's position on the topic). Eventually I left them.
The second half of the day was easily the NICEST day I've had yet. The sun was out (but it wasn't hot), there weren't any climbs, and the countryside was really nice.
I will say, however, that a pilgrim on a bike overtook me -- I heard the bike and turned, and there was a guy who had a completely friendly vibe. He asked if my Camino was going well, that sort of thing, and continued on. But looking up a few minutes later I saw he had stopped (probably to pee, but if so, he was done and being discreet). He seemed to be adjusting a jacket, but all I could think was that I was not in the mood to deal with any unknown men, so I slowed way down until he was well on his way. He truly was harmless, but now I'm a bit defensive.
Anyhow, I continued on into Castrojeriz, which is the most charming town I've been in yet. Totally what you would expect when you think "Spanish village in the middle of nowhere." Castle ruins up on a hill. Cobble stone streets. Churches. All of it in good repair and with evidence of a decent tourist business (signs explaining things, bicycle routes marked, etc). Very romantic.
The next day (yesterday), as I walked out of Castrojeriz, I saw, for a switch, a line of pilgrims in front of me. Eventually, we all merged (there was a BIG climb, so we all ended up at the top taking pictures and trying to catch our breath). There was the woman from the day before (Rosa, I think), who greeted me with hugs and kisses. The was Ramon-my-Rescuer who I had walked with on Sunday. Plus another Ramon from Mallorca. Plus another Rosa, who speaks great English and is a tour guide from Barcelona. And Timothy, a feral-looking French boy of maybe 16 and his caseworker (sister?) whose name I haven't gotten. I ran into them days ago when I was walking with the Slovak girl and her boyfriend and the Swiss oboe player. I don't know what Timothy's story is, but he's definitely not quite right and seems to be undertaking the Camino as some sort of therapy (or jail avoidance?). The young woman responsible for him has boundless patience , although yesterday she mentioned she needed to take up meditation and maybe do more yoga.
It was Rescue Ramon's last day before he returns to his regular life, so often we took pictures of him, but also we often sent him ahead so he could have time alone. It was nice being with the group, but they tended to stop more often and longer than I would (the end result being my longest day walking -- but I knew I had a long distance).
We had my first torrential down pour. But my rain gear worked fine and everything stayed dry enough. It really only lasted about 15 minutes.
Going into Itero de la Vega, we found a guy handing out flyers for his bar. "It's clean!" he said. So we ended up stopping there for hot drinks, sandwiches, and toilet breaks. Rosa the Hugger stayed in the town because she was also ending her Camino (for now -- there's a 3-day weekend coming up next week, so she said she will do more then) and this was a convenient bus stop back to wherever she was going.
Then it was 8 km of open countryside. I walked most of it with Rosa Tour Guide. We stopped often and just stood there and listened because it was so incredibly quiet. I was thinking about how when we have a moment of silence, it's usually a ceremonial thing commemorating some sort of tragedy. But these moments of silence were more celebratory. We could hear the wings of birds as they flew over us, it was that quiet.
At Boadilla del Campo, I left the group. They stopped for a coffee because they were only planning to go as far as Fromista (another 6 km), but it was already 4:00, and I was headed to Población de Campos, 3.5 km beyond Fromista, and I wanted to get there before dark.
At one point the Camino goes along a canal -- like something you'd see near Bruges or in Amsterdam. It was very pleasant, but ahead I saw a lone man, sorta strolling aimlessly. He appeared to be holding flyers, so I thought maybe he was also doing a bit of advertising. But I didn't like being stuck out on a canal with any strange men. Of course, this was exactly what he was doing -- pushing a hotel in the town I was headed for. "I'm already sorted," I told him, "but there are 4-5 others a few minutes behind me … maybe they will be interested." And I left him. Again, he was harmless.
That last 3 km or so was hard -- not unlike Saturday when I dragged into Burgos. I kept thinking, "If you look to the left, you see … Spain," and humming "My Cherie Amour" to stay cheerful. But I was tired, and had decided I was going to take an extra day in Campos.
So imagine my surprise later when Ramon, Rosa, and Timothy's case manager walked into my little hotel lobby. They had rejected the only open albergue in Fromista because it had neither heat nor hot water, even though this meant Ramon had to walk back there to catch a 7:00 am bus this morning. They were at the albergue next door, but arranging to take showers and have breakfast where I'm staying because this albergue had no hot water either. The hotel owner poured them all glasses of wine, and we stood around and chatted for a bit.
Then I had some dinner while the hotel owner did a load of laundry for me. In a real washing machine! Not a sink or shower. Maybe my long-sleeved shirt will actually not stink now.
Anyhow, I still woke up at 5:00 am, but I'm looking forward to a day of reading and chasing the million cats who live in the garden. This is a teeny-tiny village with nothing to look at, but that suits me fine.
Tomorrow I have a short day (17 km), and on Friday, I think, this little project will be half over. I'm enjoying it, but can't wait to be done and back home with my family.
Lots of love to you all.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Población de Campos, Spain
Days off from anything are precious. I think yours will be made even more special because you finished time chatting with folks. And cats. The cats will help.
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