Onward Into the Meseta of No Return

"When you meet anyone, remember it is a holy encounter. And as you see them, you will see yourself." -A Course in Miracles

We left the hotel in Burgos later than is usual for us since we didn't want to miss out on the breakfast buffet that was included in our room price.  We made some sandwiches from the ham, cheese and bread on offer and stuffed them in our pockets for lunch later, like the true pilgrims we have become. Out the door by 8am and we are on our way to pass by the cathedral one last time and out of the city.

I just want to say that I have come into a rhythm with my hiking poles that goes like...clickclickclick......click    Leftrightleft....right.  It's sort of the only
way I am surviving.  It's very meditative for me and keeps my mind off the strain of walking in my body.

It took us a while to leave the bustle of the city and the roar of the highway we would be walking along but it wasn't long until we entered the wilderness of the meseta. 69 percent earthen track and endless wheat fields.  Our friend Shannon along with others we have met, have decided to forgo this part and bus forward to Leon.  Not an option for John and I. We are committed to enjoying or at the least experiencing everything this Camino has to offer us.

We walked in the HOT sun for 13 miles to Hornillos meeting Mark, a New Yorker walking with Cherry, after which I was singing Cherry Baby by Neil Diamond over and over in my mind all day. Hey, at least it wasn't "I will walk 500 miles....".  When I told her she didn't seem amused. Oh well....I'm sure she paid hell for that name at one time.  Mark caught up to John later in he day and proceeded to tell him how old he was (in his 60s) and how he was matching him step for step among other things as if he really had something to prove.  A young man was sitting in the shade of a tree eating his lunch and John abruptly veered of the path to make his acquaintance. Later, Mark from New York.  The young man was 24 year old Kyle from Chicago walking the Camino until he starts work as a ski instructor at Vail in November.

I admit that I think that Kyle, unfortunately innocently enough, epitomizes American culture, me included, with his ultra white straight teeth. Talk about a hundred watt smile!!!

We arrived in Hornillos and checked into the municipal albergue where we were delighted to find Anika and Mike, a couple we hadn't seen since Roncevalles!  We were given our stamps, cringing slightly as we walked through the cramped dorms on our way to the gymnasium where they had overflow. We were happy to be in this big spread out space instead of on top of each other in bunk beds.

We showered in relatively nice showers, did our laundry and hung it out to dry in the hot sun.  Went for beers with Becky from the UK who we had met earlier at the picnic spot where we had our lunch, and Kyle who I mentioned earlier long with Anika sans Mike who was feeling a little under the weather.  Moans, a Dutch guy who had left his girlfriend in Burgos hobbled in on his shin splinted leg and joined us as well. We also saw John and Debbie from NZ and are surprised at how well he is getting on with his feet in such a bad way.

We gathered for the pilgrims meal and then retreated to a beautiful spot in front of the huge Gothic church to continue to drink another bottle of delicious Spanish vino.  The times on the Camino are so special with young and old getting along and finding things and experiences to share.

Making Burgos!

Up and out of the monastery early and on into the beautiful little town of Ages about 4k down the road. Had a cafe con leche and some great pastries at a really cool little cafe there.  The sun was barely up.  On through Atapuerca which is a world heritage site for archaeology.

The slog into Burgos was arduous and industrial and we hit about a one mile pocket that smelled so bad, like rotten cheese and then like a fertilizer factory, that I thought I would be sick. Another reason my scarf has been brilliant.

As we walked along through not so pretty outlying burbs, a couple approached us and directed us to walk along the peaceful river Arlanzon. Muy bonita, they said.  Very pretty.  This is typical of the helpful and nice Spaniards we have been meeting along the way.

Booked into the Almirante Bonifaz when the hostal Acacia was not working out.  We thought it would be so cool to stay there in honor of our niece, Acacia who was getting married on this very day in Pennsylvania.  Oh well, I'm excited to take a two day layover. A nice reward after walking five straight days.

We settled in, rested up for a few hours and went out to see if we could find any of our Camino friends.  We found a little tapas bar where it was old home week with all the young people we had met so far on the way.  I saw Sara, the young Ozzie from the night in Belorado and she was in much better spirits since she had purchased a new pair of shoes here that she thought would help her out.  There was also the Barvarian who we stayed with in Belorado,  Joe, (don't call him German). See how much we are learning with this international crowd?  We had some tapas and wine before Joe asked us if we wanted to go to a "real Spain bar".  Yes of course.  We headed to this very small little place with posters plastered everywhere and crowded with Spanish men and women all having a good time.  Some of the men were dressed in what looked like bullfighting robes but we never did find out the significance of that.  We ended up somehow (it's all a tad fuzzy) at a table with two Spanish men and talked for hours about politics, our families, the Spanish economy, all with very little Spanish on our parts and no English on their parts!  It was amazing really.  They insisted on ditching our vino tinto and replaced it with Rioja.  There were some musicians there who surrounded us and started playing their guitars and sang for what seemed like just our little table.  The entire place and all the people there made us feel so welcome and special.  When we decided to cash out and go back to the hotel, the bartender told John our entire tab was on the house.... And we had had more than a few riojas!  We left Joe at a table surrounded by women, and the two spanish men we spent the evening with walked us back to the cathedral and wanted to make sure we got back to the hotel safely.  It was 1:45am and the Saturday night streets of Burgos were still vibrantly rocking! We both giggled arm in arm all the way back to our hotel, we just couldn't believe how much fun we had had.  It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.  We don't have pictures from the ipad since it doesn't have flash but I did get pictures on my camera which I will have to add after I return home.  Simply magical!

We spent our off day touring the cathedral, the most renowned Gothic cathedral in all of Spain and one of the largest, second only to Giralda in Sevilla.  I learned that the church and all it's little chapels are basically mausoleums of the benefactors and their families.  Interesting.  It was a veritable art museum with paintings dating back before the 12th century.  The surrounding streets definitely have a medieval feel to them.

Tomorrow we enter into the beginning of the meseta....

Tiny San Juan de Ortega Packs a Punch

Left the room in the albergue early after a fitful night listening to sounds you never want to hear. The earplugs are definitely my friends.  Walked 5k to Tosantos for a cafe stop, where we met yet another Ozzie, Cathy, who asked if I was American or Canadian. When I replied American, she said, "Thank God, the Canadians hate when I ask if they are American."  I don't know how I was so quick on my feet before coffee but I said, "Are you from Australia or New Zealand?" when she replied that she was from Australia, I said "Thank God, the Kiwis hate when I ask if they are from Australia."  (Because they do I've learned) A little international humor.  This would be Cathy's second attempt at the Camino, the first one thwarted by infected blisters.

On the climb up and over the "Montes de Oca", some pretty little mountains where robbers used to lie in wait for unsuspecting pilgrims in ancient times,  we were nearly run off the narrow tree lined road by a car going really fast. It felt as if it was purposeful.  This was the second time we would feel less than appreciated on the Camino. I guess the negative energy of old prevailed for us on this section.  I do have to say that these incidences are rare in comparison to the many welcoming and positive people and experiences we have been having so far.

After being overtaken by a large group of school children, obviously on a Camino field trip we stopped to have a lunch on the trail with our kiwi friends John and Debbie, of salami, cheese, fruit and those delicious olives, and dark chocolate.  We met up later at little San Juan de Ortega, which was nothing more than a church and monestary, and small cafe.  We opted to stay here for the night instead of slogging ahead another 5k to Ages.  We were glad we did.

We checked into this little place only to realize later that it was the priest doing all the honors, changing from his running shorts into his robes in time to conduct mass and then back into shorts later to continue to help the tired pilgrims checking in for the night.

The Germans were filming a documentary which we got to be a part of! Then after sitting around drinking wine and comparing blisters we all went to the pilgrims mass in the iglesia (church) and tears spilled down my cheeks while listening and sort of understanding the padres heartfelt blessing. We were surprised and delighted to learn that we would also be a witness to a phenomenon that only happens twice a year on the spring and autumnal equinoxes.  At a certain time the sun hits a hole in one of the stained glass windows and the beam of light travels across the wall to illuminate the virgin mother in two places in its trajectory across the beautiful sculptures and paintings in the church.

John skipped the dinner which turned out to be for Shannon, Cathy and I, whatever was left of the combo plate. He got to go on the monastery tour instead with translations by our Spanish friends we have been waving and smiling at for the last week or so.

The three of us girls wrapped the leftover bread in napkins to save for tomorrow's lunch, stashing it in pockets, and we took Shannon's dinner of scrambled eggs and cheese back to an appreciative John, in a sandwich wrapped in the paper tablecloth. We giggled that we seriously feel like real pilgrims taking all that is offered however meager.

The night spent in the cavernous monastery was sort of like sleeping in a barn with the stucco peeling off the walls, God knows what creeping along the walls and floors, but at the same time, the energy was oddly comforting and welcoming. Tomorrow, on to Burgos, the second largest city on the Camino, and a welcome two night respite.

15 Miles to Belorado

Sounds like Colorado.  There have been times on this journey when we would not have known the difference, so alike has some of the terrain been. We are after all on the same latitude line. Alike as it can seem, it is truly another world.

This morning, leaving the hotel, the only other pilgrim on the street with us was...guess who, Shannon.  I have been provided another opportunity to make something right. Thank you.....  As we walked up behind her, John said,"someone is looking tired". I didn't give myself the chance to even see if she looked at all miffed at us, I just put my arm around her and said that I was sorry for disappearing yesterday and I just confessed that I was more tired than I let on and just had to find another place.  She said no problem and all was forgotten.  As is the way of the Camino. We walked a long while together and stopped at 7k out at Granon and had a cafe con leche and a snack.  We met a rafting guide from Colorado named Andie and her companions  Lauren and her mother, two women who could have been sisters. At this point you can't tell if people are with original friends or ones met on the way.

We continued on and even though I had had such a hard day yesterday, today I finally feel as though my body has given in to this repetitive punishment. I am feeling a lot stronger now which makes me feel even better and hopeful for the forward journey. We have left the land of vineyards and entered fields of sunflowers.

We arrived at the little hamlet town of Belorado at about 1:30pm and stopped at the very first albergue for grande cervesas and decided to walk on into town to try to find something closer in.  We settled for the Cuatro Cantones which looked cozy. Ten euro each and we were assigned to a room for 6 with one bathroom to share.  We unpacked and washed out a few things and showered. No temp controls on the water and everything was either lukewarm or cold. At least we were early and could do this before our room filled up with the 4 Germans and one Barvarian who would be our roommates for the night.

We walked into the dead little town. Siesta is always in the afternoons here.  I sat on a bench and an old man came over and said hola buenos Dias all the while staring at my bare legs. I was wearing my dress.  I told him I spoke only a little Spanish but he told me his name and I like to think he was trying to ask if my legs were cold and not telling me I was being rude by exposing them or something.  Most people are very tolerant of the peregrinos thankfully.

We ended up at the hotel bar where we had a comfy place to update the blog and where John could have some of the ice coldest Estrella on tap in all of Spain (according to John)..  Shopped for tomorrow at the grocery when it opened at six.  It's been hard to know when things are opened or closed here. I'm sure it is not as random as it seems.

Went to the pilgrims meal offered by the albergue and were seated with other English speakers..well all but one, Enrique, a Spaniard who spoke no English but was traveling with Sara, an Australian living in London. John was seated next to Greg, an Irish lad with the red hair and fair skin you would expect.  Nolan from North Carolina and a young Brit whose name I don't remember. I was stuck at the end of the table with Sara who seemed very angry and annoyed with the other pilgrims she had been meeting, telling me horror stories of interactions and just wanting to tell everyone to f**k off and leave her alone!  I wondered what she was doing here.  She kept exclaiming that the magic happens when she is alone! Isn't it obvious that the Camino is highly social? Looked like the lessons of this journey just might be calling out to her. Enrique on the other hand was communing without language and  kept thumping his chest and saying, "the Camino" and smiling.  Even though the food and wine was good, it was not a very relaxing dinner for me.  Evidently for many of us, the social aspect is a whole other facet of this journey.