| 01/06/03 |
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My first stop is in Caradańuela. To leave Atapeurca I had to climb a hill which was hard for a bit but the landscape is beautiful, shelving green hills and in the distance Burgos. And flowers! Wonderful flowers. The ground is showered with small yellow and white flowers and tiny purple ones and blue cornflowers. Really beautiful. The prettiest nature up to now.
The slog into Burgos was deadly, a long and boring 5km on a gigantic straight boulevard without a bench in sight. Sniff, and I'm already so tired. I walked from Caradańuela to Villafria with a young seemingly wealthy Swiss fellow who took a year-long sabbatical. Lucky guy.
The weather today was not too warm and a bit cloudy which made it good walking weather.
I book a mid-price hotel in Burgos at 53€ a night. Oh well, I'm tired and need some comfort today as I've stayed in refugios since Logrońo. Burgos seems a nice city, there's a medieval fair in front of the cathedral which really brings one in the mood. I spent a couple of hours there and bought a bunch of stuff I'm doomed to carry with me and regret. Sigh. Including some heavy books.
I briefly visited the cathedral but all chapels were closed and you have to take a guided tour to be able to visit anything. I bought a guidebook but looked around a bit. It really is beautiful, very gothic and a striking difference with the roman churches I've seen along the road so far.
Made a quick call home, all seems fine.
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| 02/06/03 |
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Yay! Got a packet with the post! Yay! Oh My God. My sister's gonna call her boy Kasper. The friendly ghost?! Oh man.
Anyway, I visited the cathedral, of course the chapels were closed to all except guided tours and no pictures were allowed, I hate that. The cathedral in itself is a real treasure, the details in themselves are overwhelming but as she is being restored at this moment, there's a lot of noise and some parts are closed to visitors. Damn.
The small adjacent church of St Nicolas doesn't allow pictures either, which is a shame as it contains a beautiful complicated stone retablo filled with miniature statuettes one would need to study with binoculars.
I really like this city
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| 03/06/03 |
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I left Burgos around 9.30 and arrived after about 12.5km in Rabé de la Calzada. This village is Dead. It deserves the capital D. It lies just before the Meseta and has neither shop not Tabacos. Nada. Only a few seemingly deserted houses and a closed church. The road up to here was rather nice as it led through a summery wood and over a gigantic field, then a bit of carretera up to Tardajos. The fluff trees fluffed horribly today after a large bridge which I think was the N120.
My feet hurt a little as my backpack is a bit over heavy with all the crap I bought in Burgos. I figure I'll have to send some stuff back at some point.
It's odd, but every time I leave a large city I feel like going home but once I'm on the road I'm glad to be walking again. Hm. Saw a couple of nice stork nests today.
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| 04/06/03 |
 | I finally arrived in Hontanas after 18km Meseta. The only break was Hornillos des Camino after 8km and I have to say it wasn't that easy. Luckily it was rather cloudy and breezy all day long. The walk was very nice, endless green fields dotted with boulders on which mosses, poppies, yellow and small purple flowers grow. Here and there you can see broad bands of red poppies in the fields in the far distance. Awesome. Birds everywhere, some kind of tit, a blue-grey-black thing and a brown striped bird with a dark spot on its breast. I also saw a demonic beetle with a humongous hind body and 2 red dots behind its eyes. Creepy.
Of course, since it's only the beginning of the Meseta it's not that flat seeing both Hornillos and Hontanas are situated in tears in the landscape. But the flat bits are very flat.
The pigeon-infested church of Hontanas is of course closed but its bell tower works automatically scaring away a flock of pigeons that return a few seconds later. Tomorrow I'll walk to Itero de la Vega, 21km. Let's hope it doesn't get too hot since I'm already burned from enjoying the sun half an hour yesterday. I'm bright pink.
Some long-distance walkers arrive, I think they may have come from Burgos or before that. Odd fellows. As yesterday, I've paid for an evening meal in the refugio. Yesterday was cheap (5€) but a bit too modest: lettuce (fresh veggies, yay!) and spaghetti. Tonight's dinner is 7€ and consists of wine, bread, pasta, lettuce, eggs and an apple for dessert. Yummy. I've noticed I'm eating quite a lot of salt lately.
I got a lot of love and purrs from a small black cat in the previous village yesterday. Poor little thing. Of course today, I'm covered in flea bites. Ah well.
The most annoying thing about the Meseta is the fact that you can walk for hours without encountering a point of reference showing where you are and how far you have already walked. Seeing Sambol and its tiny refuge was one sign that I had walked already 5km. For the rest, it's tramping on and hoping you get there but every kilometre is a long one. Thankfully there are lots of boulders along the way where I can sit and rest and enjoy the landscape for a while. And if one is in doubt of the way to follow, one must simply look for the dozens of little cairns along the way pilgrims seem to amuse themselves with.
After waking up from an impromptu 3-hour nap, I can smell that the hospitalero has started dinner. I hope it'll be served soon so I can get back in bed for the night as I have to get out early tomorrow for my 21km walk.
All roosters in this village are vying for the last word and as there are 6 or 7 of them, it's quite a concerto.
My weaknesses are still my Achilles tendons and my foot soles but the rest of my body seems to have adapted itself to lugging around an odd 14kg. Unfortunately it seems that the camino will be mostly a physical test for me than a spiritual one. I can't seem to be able to open up my mind and think. The only thing I seem to be able to do is day dream and that is mostly to distract me from the pain and effort. Maybe I haven't got anything left to discover about myself. Hahaha.
This village also seems to be near death. Half of the old houses are empty, only inhabited by pigeons and swallows. 'Se Vende' 'Se Vende' everywhere but who would want to live in a village in the middle of nowhere where there's hardly a bar, no shop and not even a Tabacos? Only empty houses, dead streets and a closed church. Pigeons, old persons and dogs. The only life in the village coming from pilgrims and the refugio. I have seen many similar villages. It's sad really.
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| 05/06/03 |
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After a long wearying walk I finally arrive in Itero de la Vega where the refuge is empty and devoid of all life. I really don't feel like bunking here on my own but I can't really go on as the next refuge is in Boadillo del Camino which is 8km away. On top of that this refuge isn't one of the cleanest. I took a quick look in the showers and decided against one. I hope some more people will come by.
The road till here was nice up to Castrojeriz, not too hilly and nicely cloudy. It went past two ruins, one was the Ermita de San Miguel which consisted of a ruined tower and the other one was the Ermita de San Anton which is used as a tent camp when the camino gets ultra busy. It spans the camino with an arch where on one side pilgrims leave messages to each other in the openings in the wall. Very pretty.
I had a quick coffee in Castrojeriz at the Santa Maria del Manzano which is one of the three churches in the village. Outside of the village unfortunately 'there lieth a Hill' which I have to cross. Oy. I'm guessing the climb is about a km long up to the plateau which I have to cross and descend.. After about 20 minutes of groaning, moaning and sighing I made it to the top, sans heart attack. Whoopee! It's awesome up here. It looks as if the top of the mountain has been cut off with a hot knife; it's extremely flat and planted with nice flowers. The view is stunning. I rest for a while at the cairn enjoying the view. In the far distance I think I can see Itero de la Vega which must be 8km or so away and the Fuente del Poyo. It's odd to see how far I still have to walk. My feet give a small sigh of complaint and call their divorce lawyer. On we go.
Sure is nice and all that but my feet are killing me and I can't seem to enjoy the rest of the walk. Step step step up to the Fuente del Poyo where I have a teeny breakdown on a bench. I'm really tired but on I must go so on I go. I pull myself up and trundle on. I can see the two Itero's in the distance but of course the closest one is not the one I need and the camino bifurcates along the Hospital de San Miguel where some pilgrims are already waiting for it to open. Odd, my guide claims it only opens around the end of June but it seems to be in use already judging from forgotten laundry on the wire. As I've decided to stay in Itero, I walk on. The last kilometre is always the heaviest as I drag my feet along a dirt track to the eternal dead village. And that's where I find the deserted refugio. Pft. If I weren't so tired I'd go on to Boadilla but I'm beat.
A few more people arrive around six in the afternoon, a German couple, frau on a bike and Herr on foot. Cute. As there is no kitchen is the refuge I survived on pre-packaged rolls (yuck), indigestible chorizo and flan. I've had better. Thankfully I finished some books which I can now leave behind but I'll have to ship back some stuff home at some point.
I wonder if someone will come by to stamp my credencial, I'd hate to miss one.
Ah, the hospitalero came by round 8 in the evening to stamp our passports. Thank god.
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| 06/06/03 |
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I arrive in Boadilla del Camino after about two hours. There's heavy mist over the fields and road making it impossible to see more than a good 50m ahead. Kinda spooky, kept having 'Brotherhood of the Wolf' flashbacks. It was rather oppressive as there wasn't as much as a breeze to cool things off. It was like walking in a tepid bathroom.
I take a break at the strict Romanesque church and a beautiful rollo. Unfortunately there's a large Doberman hanging around and I'm a bit wary. A quick soda and on we go. The mist is being burned away by the sun as I leave the village and the road leads to a grit path next to a canal which will lead me all the way to Fromista. It's an unforgiving straight path and the feet suffer. It's very pretty though. There's lots of animation going on in the reed on the bank of the canal. There seems to be a frog concerto in D minor and a noisy kind of bird that plays hide and seek in the water plants. It's a small, svelte brown bird with a greyish-blue spot on the throat and a big mouth. No really, you wouldn't believe the noise it makes prut prut prut kisjie kisjie swee prut prut.
Anyway, I plod on until I reach a small sluice gate where I thankfully rest up a bit while trying not to fall in the deep water pit. That feels good. There are suddenly many people on the road and I see Fromista in the distance. I stare a while at four storks flying in circles overhead, then I cross the lock over the river, cross the street and enter the town. I follow the arrows for about five minutes until I reach the beautiful pure Romanesque church of San Martin. As the refugio only opens in an hour I decide to visit the church at once, the cost of one euro is worth dumping my backpack and enjoying the blessed cool. My knees feel rubbery and my feet hurt but the church is worth visiting. It's obvious it's been heavily restored as all roman frescos have disappeared, what a shame. What is left is a very pure, sober church with too-bleached pillars.
As we're suddenly invaded by a large group of German tourist, I decide to take a look at the outside of the church, but as I leave the group starts a nice Gregorian chant. Pretty. The batteries of my camera are used up once again but luckily I have some spares left. The outside of the church is wonderful and I take about a dozen pictures of the 350 sculptures lining the roof.
The refugio open earlier than planned, yay! Some Spanish pilgrims let me pass before them as they have trouble locating their credencials but that isn't to the taste of one of their group who nearly dies of an apoplexy while shouting "Ordo! Ordo!" etc. I'm shocked and in my confusion throw some Dutch at him. All in all it's a nasty scene which leaves a very bad taste in my mouth even though he apologises later. I have noticed that the Spanish pilgrims seem to be the noisiest, rudest and least sympathetic even though the villagers along the road are very friendly and kind and regularly wish you a "Buen Camino" when you meet them. Oh well.
Thankfully, the showers were nice and hot (and clean) en I managed to wash my clothes, do some shopping and phone the parents. I ate lunch in a nice restaurant next to the refugio and had a splendid meal of Huevos Revolitos (eggs with shrimp, ham, tomatoes, mushrooms, bell peppers and asparagus) and an escalope with cheese and ham. I'm a bit full but considering the only food I had since yesterday were 2 energy bars, 2 small bocadillo's with chorizo and 2 flans I don't care. I spend enough energy during the day to deserve a fine meal once and again even if it was just to comfort me for the unpleasant experience in Itero yesterday. I even indulged in a nice dessert of Natillas and a café solo. Yum yum.
After visiting the town some more, I tried to go to bed early at 8 pm but didn't fall asleep until 10. Had a very restless night also.
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| 07/06/03 |
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I rolled out of bed around 6.15 but was already half woken up by disgustingly early leavers around 5.30. The desayuno was not fantastic (because I dislike cafe con leche) and I got away around 7.15. The weather is bright (promising to be hot) and nippy. Perfect. There are hardly any cars on the road to Poblacon de Campos and, as it's so early, everything is still closed. The gigantic church is visible from a while away but I decide not to detour to it but enter a small chapel that is - what a miracle - open. It lies about a meter below the actual level of the road and is very quiet and peaceful inside. Odd. I leave after a few minutes, have a few doubts about which road to take as the arrows point emphatically to the longer trail which I want to avoid. I finally find the road that'll lead me to the shorter camino next to the carretera. Straight as a ruler, without shadow but about a kilometre shorter than the other one. The choice isn't really the best one.
While needing to take a technical break around 9 am, I enter Revenga de Campos but to my despair the local bar will only open in half an hour. On to the next village then, I guess. Luckily for me, there are some bushes and a smallish wood outside of the village. Yay! I have a drink of water while enjoying the view until the other pilgrims are past and dive in the bushes. Quite literally, nature called. By the way, there is no bar in the next village.
There are more people on the road now and it's starting to get hot. My feet kindly inform me that a break would be very welcome but the 'many picnicking areas' are located solely at the villages which are far behind me now. After another three kilometres I catch my first view of Villalcazar de Sirga, yay, only a kilometre away, yay! My boots are like small ovens and even my knees are sweating. I suspect there is a new blister forming on my heel. The village seems to remain stubbornly in the distance. Then, suddenly, I'm there and I assault a bench. I puff a bit in the scorching sun and head on to gigantic church nr.2 of the day, which -OF course- is closed for construction this time. It really is ridiculously big for such a small village. I rest a bit more in the shadow under its arches; have some isostar and a banana-muesli bar (yuck) until I'm ready to go on. Carrion is only (!) six kilometres away. It's very hot and there is no, absolutely NO shade anywhere and not even a post or a rock to rest on. Oh there are posts, but they're just about 15 cms too high to sit on. Grrr. Too divert my mind from the heat I time myself from one kilometre-post to the next, 13 minutes per kilometre. Endless walking and then - like a blessed city - Carrion appears, 2 km away. It's a nightmare, I walk and walk and I don't get any closer, I'm ready to cry and raise the pace a bit and finally! I'm there. I immediately fall down on a bench and rest a bit; an older gentleman looks at me slightly anxious. Don't worry; I won't drop dead, yet. I follow the arrows up to the refugio. it's not very pleasant here, the hospitalero hardly talks to you and the upstairs shower, toilets and sinks are out of order, meaning over 50 people have to share two showers and one toilet. Come on. But I have a bed, which is the most important thing. I had lunch in a restaurant again as the refugio had no kitchen facilities. I have a nice fresh salad and then I try -on the advice of many guidebooks- Chipirones en su tinta. Let's not try that again. Ever.
I wander about the town a bit but everything s closed and it's unpleasantly hot. I buy a small pilgrim owl in ceramics for my mother; let's hope it'll survive the rest of the journey.
Tomorrow, 17-18 km to Calzadilla de la Cueza over uninterrupted meseta. I plan too leave very early to avoid the heat. Oh boy. I have three new blisters, am almost out of compeed, am almost out of vicks vaporub, it's Saturday and the pharmacies only open again on Monday. How's about them apples? On Monday, I should be in Templarios de los Terradillos after about 9 kilometres. Otherwise I'll have to do the 22.5 ms to Sahagun and I don't think I'm quite that crazy.
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