Author: admin

11 September: Fromista to Carrion de Los Condes

Happy Birthday Patsy.

Only 18 klicks today.  Extremely  humid until about 10am. Then you can literally feel it lift and we had a beautiful easy walk. That is until we started past a number of fields and midgens (Northern Irish for mooshes or mozzies). I was ok but Jerry was ney a wee bonny as he had bites all over his face and bare legs.

Jerry the alien from the planet “ Argon.” Seriously he was in misery due to the bites. And that has been our existence here. Every day seems to bring its own set of challenges. Torrential rain of biblical proportions, then boots caked in mud, trails covered with rocks boulders and stone, flash flooding then extreme heat and humidity that is through the roof. Finally today we get great walking temperature and then nature laughs at us to say not so fast Johnnie and throws the third plague of Egypt at us with swarms of flies and mozzies. Thanks Moses!

We are half way there and in our 4th day on the Maseta. Tomorrow will be our last on this broad plain but the most challenging. We have a 17 kilometer hike with no shade, water, or villages. We will do 28 klicks overall. That is why today was short so that tomorrow we will tackle the 17 km right away and when it is cool. I don,t know if you can tell by the pics but this area reminds me of the prairies back home.El Alberto Condido Spain.

Santo Manitoba Spain.

And this is my other aussie walking colleague. But with the other aussie ying she is my aussie yang. She is a real sweetheart. She is 75 and keeps up with all of us. She is like the ever ready rabbit in that she just keeps going and going and going. Her name is Maryanne. She is small, wiry, thin as a waif but very headstrong and determined.

We also call her the bag lady as she has a bevy of little bags attached to her backpack filled with nuts, fruit, knick knacks and other stuff. Come to think of it we haven,t run into the aussie yang for a few days now. Thank you for that…..eeeeyeah mate!

Best to expand the pic on your device to see clearly.

 

10 September: Castrojimiz to Fromista

26 klicks today. Started out with a mind blowing hill. A wakeup call. Wow. It was tough. But we did it. Jerry has this system we follow. We walk 100 paces, stop, take 10 or 20 seconds break, look around and then start again.

That is me at the top of a 300 metre hill climb this mornin.

Castrojimiz was interesting. Spread out in a linear pattern at the bottom of a really tall hill. At the top were the ruins of a medieval castle of the time of El  Cid. Views for miles around. The town was also known as a retirement place for Spanish Dukes and Counts or the lower classes of Spanish Royalty. It also has a nunnery that was established in the fourteenth century. Turns out the nuns were not fanatical enough so the local bishop closed it down and kicked the nuns out. It subsequently turned adeinto a cemetery, jail, and now ruins. Great history here. As a history buff how I love this country.

We are in out third day in the Maseta, an area flat, barren and hot. No shade.  Turns out many pilgrims pass on this area and take a bus to avoid it. Me? I love it. It reminds me of our vast prairie and being on the Navy all my life it brings me back to the big sky, vast horizons and broad landscapes. Love it.El Saskatchewandido Spain.

What really bugs one here is that the distances are out of whack. There are real world kilometers and then there are Camino kilometers. Today we walked for 3 hours to arrive at the first village. It said we did 9 kilometers whereas Jerry,s gps said we did 13 kilometers. It is a real demotivator.

Made it to Formista.  Hot, hot hot. They have a canal here with locks.

HOLA

Brenda from Oregon (right) and Margaret from Munich. HOLA.

 

 

 

 

09 September: Burgos to Castrojiriz

Covering two days here. Burgos to Hornillos was 21 km and Hornillos to Castrijiriz was another 20. Hot, hot, hot. Did I say it was hot? Well it was. Beautiful sunrise… this was taken around 730 am.

And heavenly intervention.

We are walking in an area called the Meseta. This is a broad dry plain almost devoid of shade and trees of any sort. It covers the central interior of Spain. When they say “ it never rains in Spain except on the plain” it is the Meseta that they are referring to. Best to start early and knock off about 10 km before our first break. Then start off after a short break and cover the last 10 or so. We,re sticking to about 20 a day until it cools off, which we expect starting Monday, 11 th. Hopefully that is.

The Albergue last night in Hornillo was awful and to make matters worse we ran into the annoying Australian woman. She is some piece of work.  Her irritating presence was offset by a lovely Italian woman walking with her mother. We had dinner with them. They were wonderful to have dinner with. Except for the flies, the food here is excellent. Lots of it and cheap wine to wash it all down. But the Australian woman who sat at a nearby table nattered on all evening about nothing in her worst, cat scratching working class aussie accent. Eee yeah, oh eeeyeah, eeeyeah yeah mate, Eee yeeah. And btw, I’m not your mate.

We stopped at an old derelict monastery built in the 14th century. It was a welcome respite except for the koom bye ah armosphere among the younger people here. Don,t they know that us boomers had that all sown up at Woodstock 1969? It is all a fantasy but alas, d,accord they will have to find out for themselves.

At Castrojeriz. Staying at a monastery that has been renovated.

Jerry is back. I still can,t understand him but somehow we get along. I learn something from him every day. Today it is the word “crack” which means  to chat or “buts” which means a bun, or “ cack” which means underwear. It is all the Queens English he says. Yeah right I says and tell him I have to go for a “crunch.” A what he says. Never mind I says and tell him it is the King,s English and leave it at that.

Read ya later

.

 

 

 

08 September: Burgos

 

 

What a beautiful city. Home base of El Cid. Who is El Cid you may ask? Well,he was the Spanish hero and medieval warrior who kicked moorish butt out of Spain and restored catholicism and Spanish hegemony to the Iberian peninsula. Love it. Just like Charles “THE HAMMER” Martel in France, he halted the muslim ingress into Europe and the establishment of Islam. They sound like WWF characters to me. Impressive dudes. Life would be a lot different here today but for the bravery and leadership of these individuals.

When I checked in I asked the young woman where the statue to Charlton Heston was. She laughed as she kew right away what I was talking about. You see they made a movie back in the 1960s called El Cid starring…ta da…Charleton Heston. Burgos is the birthplace of….El Cid…and not Charlton Heston, as that ignorant woman from South Carolina would surmise. Elderly she was but had no clue where Vancouver was. I said to her that my wife was leaving for Savanna in a few days. Did she know where that city was? Cruel, I know, but ignorant people who should know better really irritate me. The Spanish know and she should too.

Of course Burgos has a cathedral and what a cathedral it is too.

Expand the photo and you will see Christ depicted at the centre top with Mary on one side of him and an archangel on the other. The middle relief illustrates those who are saved (left) to those who are damned for eternity (right). The bottom illustration has the 12 Apostles front and centre. We could not get inside to have a peak. Imagine that all of this was done by one man chipping away for years.

All of a sudden I felt really holy. My socks were holy and my undershorts were beginning to feel holy…and airy too. Have to find a Spanish discount store. Alas Burgos has no Walmart, thank goodness. Only very high end and chic clothing stores.

Seriously though, walking amongst these architectural treasures and down the winding streets and pathways a feeling of peace and happiness overcomes the soul. You feel blessed with having been alive with a strong sense of being with oneself as well as a belonging to something existential that is unexplainable yet somehow recognizable. You are part of something much bigger. Hard to explain.

Burgos is also very modern:

Boy oh boy….how I love this country.

Read ya later.

07 September: Beldorado to Villafranca

The walk from Beldorado to Villafranco was very boring and very flat. So at Villafranca myself, Jerry and about 20 other pilgrims decided to take the bus to Burgos. After all, this is not an endurance test, nor a race. It is not fun either thus far. What with 4 days of deluges of biblical proportions that even Noah would shy away from interspersed with blistering heat, wet clothes and shoes caked in muddy clay, this has not been a walk in the park. Next week promises to be cooler. We will see.

So in that boring vein I decided to repeat a post from August.

Someone asked me once what was the pilgrim life was like.  Well…..

Pilgrims can be anybody. They come from all walks of life. Judges, retired Naval Officers, mad French mathematicians, flying Dutchmen, crazy Germans and others.  Pilgrims show up en masse at Pilgrim starting places like Vezelay France or St Jean Pied de Port. Now Pilgrims are not allowed to swear,not allowed to have money, although most of them arrive via first class air or high speed trains. No,no, no. Pilgrims can only suffer.

And because Pilgrims have no money, they have no alarm clocks with them. No matter as most Pilgrim hostels are beside churches. And churches have church bells that go off at 6 am every morning. Precise. It is god,s clock so they have to be. The first time I experienced this it was frightening. You see, I had broken the second and third major Pilgrim rule in that I was having fun the night before at a singsong with some wine. You see, Pilgrims are not allowed to have fun (2nd rule) nor are they allowed to drink (3rd rule). No, Pilgrims are only allowed to suffer. So you can imagine how distraught I was when those bells went off. I jumped out of bed and thought my head  was exploding when those bells went off. Alas it was only the bells and not my head. Then again a severe red wine hangover would fit right in with the Pilgrim,s code of conduct….major pain.

At that moment all of the Pilgrims have one thing on their mind…toilet. And you probably thought those walking sticks were for walking. No,no, no. They are for fending off the other pilgrims while running to the toilet in order to be the first one in there.

Then tbe Pilgrim goes and has breakfast. Gruel actually because the 4 th rule of a Pilgrim is that you cannot enjoy food. You have to suffer so our gruel has the texture and look of metamucil, or…..well, you get the disgusting picture. After gruel and cold stale coffee the Pilgrim has a choice. He can start his daily walking grind or he / she can attend Pilgrim classes. There is: “How to be a Pilgrim 101;” Lessons in Self Flagellation; “ “ The Pilgrim,s Handshake” and of course one of my favourites in “ How to meet and greet other Pilgrims – the secret code word.” And for this one time only I am going to tell you what it is: ” Bon Compostelle.” But if you forget it you can always say: “ Pass the Pasta.” That will work as well. Which reminds me of the Pilgrim cook book – an absolute must for the proper, discerning Pilgrim – “100 ways to cook pasta” also known as, and I love this part, “ Pasta and the Pilgrim,s Life.” I know, I know, a real classic best seller.

So what does a Pilgrim wear. Anything really. Modern or traditional. The traditional Pilgrims have those earth tone coloured robes made of homespun wool. Itchy as hell…ooops sorry for swearing…They have these long hemp belts for a tight or loose fitting fit. Now you never want to be behind one of these pilgrims as they tend to roll up the hems to their waist as they are goiing up a steep hill such that…like a true Scott…their bare asses are stairing right back at you. Not a pretty site. Oh, and those long hemp belts? Well, one tine I saw one of these Pilgrims cut a small piece of hemp and then roll it up in paper and smoke it. Bad, sacriligious, blasphemy and a cardinal rule of the Pilgrim.  You must….you must pass it around.

 

Thats all for today.

Burgos tomorrow. The birthplace of El
Cid.