Beautiful Leon. The little running man. Yesterday morning we slept in in our comfy beds at the Hostal San Martin until well after 8 am, which is shoo-out time at the albergues. On our way to seek out some breakfast we were talking about how wonderful it felt to be walking without backpacks. A few minutes later we came upon a group of backpack-laden folks, their heads bent over the guidebook, pilgrims in search of an albergue - there's only one in Leon - or hostel. "Buen Camino," we said as we passed. The pilgrims looked up and we recognized one of them as a Camino friend from a few towns back. and she recognized us as well. We hugged and she introduced us to her companions, and we all hugged. She'd found herself a Camino family to travel with. . . Most Camino families stay together for a while, then break up as they start travelling at different paces, the members making new Camino friends or families that they'll stay with again for a while, until they again breakup and find new groups, and so it goes. Unlike Martin Sheen's Camino family in "The Way", most familes don't manage to stay together the whole time, though I've beard of Camino families who become so attached to each other that, even though they break up along the way, as each one enters the town before Santiago they wait for days until all the family members have arrived so that they can walk into Santiago together. We found a splendid cafe for breakfast, ...after which we spent the morning visiting the Leon Museum of History, which displayed artifacts from the Castilla Y Leon region from pre-historic times to the present. There was a translation of a Latin text found carved in stone: ...and I thought to myself, that's how I feel about my writing. As the Camino de Santiago has been integral to this region since pilgrims began walking it in the 9th century, there was a considerable display on the history of the Camino. My favorite was this translation of a 13th century document describing pilgrims: And we're still doing it.
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Thanks everyone for the kind birthday wishes. I did in fact have a good day, most of it spent without my backpack on my back. A couple of days ago Tom and I made a command decision to hop a train from Sahagún to Leon, cutting out about three days of walking. We took the same "Camino cheat" last time, too, and for the same reason as we did it this time: we're so slow (translate: I'm so slow) that we risk running out of time if we don't cut out a couple of days somewhere. And what better place to cut out a couple of days then on the Meseta? 8) So we took the 7:48 am train from Sahagún and arrived in Leon at 8:30 am. I love Leon. , It's my favorite city on the Camino. As we hadn't had time to eat before we caught our train, the first order of the day after arriving was to find some breakfast. We stopped in a cafe that looked promising. ...and ordered our usual, two sunny-side up eggs with bread (and patatas fritas - fried potatoes - when available, which they weren't here), orange juice, coffee, tea. Then we dug into the pastries. We started with a couple of churras, fried dough coated with sugar and cinnamon, ...then we ordered a napolitana, a chocooate- filled croissant, to share, ,...and the server, who by now must have had us pegged as a couple of hard-core cases, threw in a rosequilla, ....a sort of doughnut, but crisp on the outside and soft on the inside. Goooood! Now, I've seen churros in the States, but I can't seem to remember if the napolitanas are only in France and Spain or if they're at Panera, too? After breakfast next on the to-do list was to find a place to stay for the next two days, as we'd planned an extra rest day to visit Leon. We'd hoped to stay in the same hostel we stayed at last time in we were in Leon, but the place was full. We found another place that the guidebook recommended but that place was full, too. We were wandering around when we passed an old stone building with a sign on the outside for an attorney's office and an orthopedic shoe maker. "Let's try this place," said Tom, who was walking behind me. "Nah, that's a shoe store," said I, walking on as the two-headed turtle poked its heads out. I walked a few more steps then turned around to see that my mate was no longer behind me. He'd gone into the building, which looked like this on the inside: "Didn't you see the little "Hostel" sign next to the other signs outside the door?" Tom asked. I hadn't, but we walked on until we came ro a staircase, ...which we climbed up a couple of flights, .....past the shoe maker, past the attorney's office, until we came to this door with the little "H" for hostel sign the next to it. We rang the door bell and a friendly lady let us into the reception area, a charming,, homey little room with a nice view. She asked us if we had a reservation and I said no, but that we were looking for a room for two nights. She smiled sadly and said no, she was sorry but she was full. We thanked her and turned to leave. "No, wait!," she called after us, "maybe I have something for you." I promise you I'm not making this up. She gave us this nice room with a lovely bathroom for 43€ per night Camino Karma comes through again. With the our sleeping quarters squared away, the name of our hostel was the San Martin, we decided to go visit the Santa Maria de Leon Cathedral. Again with the bars. ....but this cathedral's stained glass windows had the most beautiful and interesting designs. While wandering around the cathedral I ran into one of our Camino friends, the Episcopalian priest we met and had dinner with back in Hontanas. It's funny about Camino friends. You meet each other along the way or in an albergue and you bond so quickly, and you may or may not continue seeing each other here and there along the way for a few days, then you'll travel on from each other, But if you happen to run into each other later along the Camino you'll be so happy to see each other again, you'll hug as if you were dear old friends. That's how it was running into this Camino friend, we were just so glad to see each other again, ask about each other's aches and pains and each find out how the other was faring.
My friend told me that yesterday on the Meseta he experienced the high point of his Caminio. He came upon a group of twenty Lithuanian pilgrims who began walking their Camino in Lithuania 5 1/2 months ago. As they walked a group of them carried a large crucifix, which they took turns carrying. They were doing this pilgrimage as a show of support for the beatification to Roman Catholic sainthood of a Lithuanian woman named Barbora Zagarieté. The English-speaking member of this pilgrim group who told my friend all this then asked him why he was walking the Camino. When he told her that he was an Episcopalian priest she translated for her group and they asked him to bless them. So he blessed each member of the group, laying his hands on the head of each one. He said that he experienced a beautiful feeling of community with these pilgrims that transcended the differences in their languages, cultures, and religions. If there's one thing the Camino is about, it's community. Pilgrims taking advantage of the only shade tree on the 17- kilometer stretch of the Meseta between Carrion de los Condes and Calzadilla de la Cueza. Yesterday, or the day before yesterday, or maybe today, depending on which guide book or informed pilgrim you choose to believe, we crossed, or will soon cross, the halfway point on the Camino Francés. But by the day before yesterday I was sure I'd reached the end of my endurance to go another step. That day's walk was 17 kilometers - about 10 miles - from Carrion de los Condes to Caldadilla de la Cueza, not overly long distance-wise.. But it was 17 k's on the Meseta without a town or bar along the way to stop into for a drink or some food. There wasn't even a even a water fountain off the path from which to refill your water bottle.. And the path was relentlessly dusty, stony, gnatty and shadeless, the vista excruciatingly changeless. As the hours dragged on the road seemed endless. By the time we reached the municipal albergue in the first town we came upon since we started out that morning, the tiny village of Caladilla de la Cueza (I've come to the conclusion that the rule of thumb must be the smaller the town the longer the name), .....I was completely wiped out. I had no energy to do anything except shower then collapse into my 5€ bottom bunk bed. After I'd lain around in my bunk for an hour or so in sort of sleepless twilight zone of exhaustion, I dragged myself down to the pretty albergue court yard and sat on a bench. There was a pilgrim from New Zealand who was a yoga teacher and she was leading a little stretching class in the courtyard. You really should join them, said my brain. No can do, said my body. I also managed to drag myself to dinner, served at the only bar in town, which was crowded with pilgrims. Once again I wondered where the local folks - all 60 of them, according to the guide book - go when they feel like eating out. Maybe they just don't. Over dinner we mostly talked about the day's journey. This day had been a hard one for most of the pilgrims. Some of them shared how they dealt with the tedium of this grueling stretch. A French-Canadian police officer said that after a while he just looked down at the ground as he found looking up at nothing but the road ahead to be depressing. A Dutch woman said she pushed herself ahead, forced herself into "6th gear" and sang songs in her head all day to make herself keep moving. Another Dutch woman came up with the best idea of all: she hopped a taxi and skipped the whole stretch. To each her own Camino. The next morning, yesterday morning, amazingly, I woke up feeling refreshed, renewed, and ready to don my pack, grab my sticks, and hit the Camino again. It probably didn't hurt that we started the day with these apple custard pastries that we'd been looking for since our return to Spain, ...and had finally found in the town's one grocery store, a little room about half the size of my kitchen. We kind of got addicted to these cellophane-wrapped confections on our last trip. They're kind of like the Tastykakes of Spain. We then walked 23 kilometers - almost 14 miles - from Caladilla de la Cueza to the city of Sahagún. It was a much easier walk than the day before's, with a bit more variety in the scenery. ...and some shady rest spots along the way. We also stopped for some cheese, tomato and olive oil bocadillos - sandwiches - in the village bar in San Nicolas del Real Camino - you can imagine how small that town was! We were keeping our fingers crossed that in Sahagún we'd be able - and subsequently were able - to get beds at the same place where we stayed on our last Camino, an upscale hostel called Domus Viatoris that also has an albergue with beautiful facilities and beds for 7€. The dorm: The dining room, where we had a delicious 10€ pilgrim mea:l I went with the mixed salad, a juicy steak filet & paper-thin fries and rice pudding. The showers were plentiful, ... but co-ed, and were of the cubicle variety with no dry place to hang your clothes So I had to do the old, "hang-your-clean-clothes-over-the-shower-door-and-cover-them-with -your-dirty-clothes-to-keep-them-dry-but-don't-let-the-whole-pile-fall-on-the-floor" trick. I'm getting pretty good at it. Battling the gnats on the Meseta. Sorry I didn't post yesterday, as the WIFI at our albergue was, as described by one Australian pilgrim, "patchy". Anyway, I've stopped wearing my watch while walking the Meseta to avoid the temptation of looking at it every five minutes to see if we're almost there yet. I don't think the Meseta is soul-numbing, as is sometimes said of it. It just feels like a long day every day. The worst thing about the Meseta is the scarcity of trees and bushes for a quick pit stop. Sometimes the best you can hope for is a bit of camouflage. The day before yesterday we did have a bit of variety on the Meseta. Instead of brown fields on either side as the eye could see we walked with brown fields to the left and highway to the right as far as the eye could see, . ...for 20 kilometers - 12 miles- from Fromista to the town of Carrion de los Condes We passed through a couple of pleasant oases along the way, though. Outside the small village of Villarmentero de Campos we stopped for cheese baguette sandwiches at a cute little cafe out in the middle of a field, ...where there were geese running around in the yard. We also stopped at a bar in the pretty town of Villacázar de Sirga. ....for slices of yummy apple tart. Villacázar is famous for the magnificent altar piece found in its 13th century cathedral. As the cathedral is located across from the bar Tom went inside to see the beautiful altar piece while I stayed at the bar to rest my feet. When we reached our destination 19.2 kilometers - about 11.5 miles - from where we'd started, the town of Carrion de los Condes, we headed for the albergue where we stayed last time and that had loved, the albergue Espiritu Santo. Espiritu Santo is a lovely convent ....where our hospitalieras were two sweet, cheerful nuns who made us feel very warmly welcomed. The dorm rooms were pretty, bright and spacious and the beds, 5€ each, were twins, a welcome change from the ubiquitous albergue bunks. There's a lovely little pilgrims' chapel, ....and the bathrooms were the best. Gender segregated, the beautiful pink marble showers were plentiful l and there was a chair considerately set outside each stall upon which to set our clothes to keep them dry. This place had good feel to it that came from more than the wonderful facilities. Perhaps it was the sisters' graciousness that gave this place such a nice aura, a feeling that there was joy within these walls, and kindness. But it felt good to be there, and Tom and I found ourselves wishing we could come back at the weary end of each day on the Camino to Espiritu Santo..
Yesterday morning we left Itero del Castillo without breakfast, as the only bar in town was the one run by the young, hard-working hospitaliera and it didn't open until 9 am., a good hour and a half later than most pilgrims are well on their way for another day of walking the Camino. If this little off-the-beaten-track town has aspirations for becoming a pilgrim stop-over the lack of a breakfast spot will have to be addressed, as we pilgrims need our tostada - toasted baguette - with butter and jam and our coffee or tea to get our walking engines going in the morning. So we walked from Itero del Castillo back to the Camino then on a couple of kilometers to the next town of Itero de la Vega, where we saw a sign in front of an albergue saying that breakfast was served there. I asked the friendly hospitaliero if it would be any trouble for him to fix s some food. He replied, "Of course not! You're pilgrims!" So he led us to a lovely little dining room. ...and brought us slices of tortilla with bread, coffee, tea and orange juice, ...which really hit the spot. Then it was back out onto the hot, gnatty, buggy, endless Meseta, ...to finish up the rest of the 18 k's - about 11 miles - we had left before we reached our planned destination, the town of Fromista. Now, I am, without a doubt, the slowest pilgrim on the Camino; Tom, by extension, is likewise forced to be the slowest pilgrim on the Camino. Because of this Tom came up with the idea that we should have our own stamp, to stamp the pilgrim passports of all the pilgrims who pass us by, of a turtle with a head coming out of each end of it's shell and each head is trying to go in the opposite direction of the other. Our two-headed turtleness tends to come out when we're in a town where we're having a hard time finding a bed and roaming around, two bundles of anxiety, wondering where to look next. Such was the case yesterday afternoon when we entered the town of Fromista. The first albergue we tried was full. There was one more albergue in town, a municipal, but we couldn't seem to figure out the directions to the place given in the guidebook or the directions given to us by the hospitaliero of the albegue.that was full. We knew that the municipal was behind the church of San Martin. But there were about 15 major churches in this town -well, okay, there were about three - which one was San Martin? As we wandered what we assumed was the main drag of Fromista looking for the church of San Martin or the municipal albergue, the two-headed turtle popped up. ME: Why don't we just stay at that hotel over there? TOM: Let's try to find the albergue first. ME: What if the albergue's full? TOM: Well, let's just try it. ME: I think we should bag the albergue and go to the hotel. (Later) TOM: Well, I don't know where that albergue is. Let's just go back to that hotel. ME: Wait, we must be getting close to the albergue by now. Let's just walk a little more. TOM: But what if the albergue's full? ME: There it is! The church of San Martin! And look! Over there's the albergue! (Entering the albergue courtyard): TOM: Look at all those pilgrims! And all that laundry! I think this place is full. ME: I know this place is full! (a few minutes later) HOSPITALIERA: Hay muchas camas! (There are lots of beds!) And so the turtle pulled both its heads back into its shell and we ended up in a really nice dorm room in this really nice municipal albergue. And, as we were right behind San Martin we took the opportunity to visit this 11th century church, with its plain stone interior and altar set up as it would have been when people worshiped there over a thousand years ago. I found this ancient church far more beautiful than the Cathedral of Burgos.
Holly commented that 18.50€- $20.75- seemed an awesome price for a bed, dinner, and breakfast. That's actually about the average cost of an albergue bed with a huge pilgrim meal dinner and breakfast. For example, at El Puntido, where we stayed in Hontanas the day before yesterday, we paid 5€ each for a bed, then 9.50€ each for the pilgrim meal, then a breakfast of toasted baguette slices with butter and jam and coffee or tea cost 1.90€, for a total of 16.40€, or about $17.82. Yesterday however, the municipal albergue we stayed in charged only 10€ - about $11.50 - for a bed and dinner. We figure we usually spend somewhere between $36 and $50 each per day, or between $72 and $100 a day for both of us together, except on those days when we haven'r been able to get albergue beds and so had to spend more for a hostel or hotel room. Of course one could spend less than we do by not springing 7 bucks a day for laundry service, as we do whenever laundry service is available.. I suppose one could also find a cheaper dinner alternative to the pilgrim meal, though not for the amount of food you get, and when you're hiking all day long you do need some decent nourishment. Yesterday it was back out to the Meseta, where we walked 20k's -about 12 miles - from Hontanas to the Itero del Castillo We ran into several expressions of pilgrim graffiti along the way. The above made us laugh, as what pilgrim young or old, exhausted at the end of the day, feet blistered and aching, would have the energy for dancing, let alone romance? Then there was this one, which also made us laugh: ...as it was written on a bench in a shelter at the top of a long, hot slog up a steep mountain trail. We were intending to walk to the town of Itero de la Vega, but along the way a guy on a motorcycle came zooming up to us and handed us an add for the municipal albergue in the town of Itero del Castillo, which is about one and a half kilometers off the Camino. We paused. We were a little concerned about finding a bed in Itero de la Vega as many other pilgrims were also headed to that town. A little while back I'd talked to a couple of women, Danish pilgrims who were planning to stay at Itero de la Vega. "There are three albergues there so there's bound to be enough beds for everybody," I said hopefully. "We've booked ahead, so no worries," replied one of the women. Hmmm, thought I. So we decided to try our luck off the beaten path, which we hoped would turn out to be be the road less travelled. . The road to Itero del Castillo. Itero del Castillo We arrived at the Itero del Castillo albergue to find a note on the door that said to go to the bar down the block. When we, two pilgrims looking for beds, arrived at the bar, a crowded, lively place, ...it was like the "Be Our Guest" scene from "Beauty And The Beast": "Peregrinos! (pilgrims)" called one customer, "Si, si, hay camas! (yes, we have beds!) called another. Then someone led up to the bar to the bartender/hospitaliera, a young lady who looked maybe in her early 30's, who registered us and verified that the price of a bed and dinner was, indeed, only 10€. Then she had us follow her as she left the bar and hurried up the street to albergue. She let us into the albergue, gave us a quick tour and told us she'd be back to serve us dinner at 8 pm. Then she hurried back to the bar. The albergue looked as if no one had ever been in it before. It was charming. The WIFI was lightening-fast and the bathrooms were gender-segregated with awesome showers. The view from our room: . And we had the whole place to ourselves. That is, until two more pilgrims arrived, a couple of nice young Australian ladies, but that was fine, as it's always nice to meet someone new and have have some company. The Australian ladies were as charmed as we were by the place until a little later after we were all settled in. That's when we started to notice what was wrong with this albergue: it wasn't actually all that clean. The trash cans hadn't been emptied. There was an empty water bottle left under a bed. And worst of all, the floors looked as if they hadn't been swept or mopped any time in recent history. There were crumbs from some past meal under one of the dining room tables. Now, on only one other occasion had we been in an albergue that wasn't spotlessly clean. This was on our last Camino when we stayed in a convent in Leon full of elderly nuns whom we figured must have been to frail to keep up with the cleaning. And we would soon find out the reason why this albergue was lagging in cleanliness. At around 7:40 our young hospitaliera returned to the albergue to fix our dinner in the albergue kitchen. She had her two little daughters in tow, a 7-year-old and an 18-month old. She then proceeded to attempt that daunting task so dismally familiar to every mother: trying to make dinner while caring for a clingy, cranky toddler. Tom and I tried to entertain the baby while her mother labored in the kitchen, but the child wanted her mama. At one point the woman was holding her baby on one hip while stirring a pot over the stove. Been there, done that, thought I. After our hospitaliera got our dinner on the table, the best she could manage under the circumstances, and fine by us - a salad, a plate of pasta topped with canned sauce , I'm sure, a loaf of bread and oranges for dessert - she told us to just leave our dishes on the table, she'd come back and clean them later. Then she told us she had to get back to the bar, she had to finish up the evening, close and clean the bar, then go home and make dinner for her family. The she grabbed her kids and hurried out the door. Now we knew why the albergue hadn't been cleaned. The poor young hospitaliera was overwhelmed. She just didn't have time. The Australian ladies decided that they wanted to wake up early the next morning and, to help out the hospitaliera, mop the floors and give the albergue a good cleaning, But they couldn't find a bucket and mop or any cleaning supplies. The idea was tossed around to have me, the only one among us with enough Spanish for the task, go down to the bar and ask the hospitaliera for a mop and bucket and some cleaning supplies. But then we realized that interrupting the harried hospitalera at work and asking her to stop what she was doing to rustle up cleaning supplies wasn't really such a good idea and might be taken as something other than the kind offer it was meant to be. "Well" I said, "maybe tomorrow she'll have time to come over and clean the place up.." Yes, everyone agreed, maybe tomorrow she would Yesterday we stepped out of the town of Rabé de las Calzadas onto the Meseta, the vast plateau region of Spain. The Camino as it crosses over the Meseta is a dusty (or muddy, if it rains), stony, flat-to- hilly path through rolling brown fields as far as the eye can see. This section of the Camino is a treeless, shade-less walk where the vista is always the same all day, every day, for the week or so it takes to cross it. The days on the Meseta feel long but, having crossed much of this stretch two years ago in driving rain and boot-sucking mud, I can attest that it's better to cross the Meseta in the hot sun, as we did yesterday, than in the rain. We walked 18 kilometers - about 11 miles - yesterday from Rabé de las Calzadas to the town of Hontanas. As one approaches Hontanas one sees a sign advertising an albergue in the town 2 kilometers away. Upon seeing this sign one is hit with two reactions: 1. Is it possible that the town is still another 2 kilometers away? And, 2. If the town is only 2 k's away, why can't I see it somewhere out on this flat, endless horizon? But you keep walking, keep looking, keep hoping something resembling a town will soon come into view. Eventually you come to another sign advertising the same albergue, but this sign tells you the town is now 1 kilometer away. You still can't see it. Finally you reach a big, showy sign announcing that the albergue is 500 meters away. But where the heck's the town?! You scan the scene before you and all you see is: But you keep walking - what else can you do? - and then thirty seconds later you suddenly see: Like an oasis - or maybe a mirage? - in the middle of the high desert, up has popped Hontanas, the El Dorado of the Meseta, the Las Vegas of the Camino. Hontanas Well, mayhaps I hyperbolate just a weence. But though Hontanas may be a one-street town, that street is lined with albergues and cafes, offering plenty of beds and food, which is about all the entertainment a weary pilgrim requires. We were hoping to - and managed to - get beds at the same albergue we stayed at last time, El Puntido. El Puntido is the coolest albergue on the Hontanas strip, and was one of our favorites on our last Camino. It's got a nice bar, ...5€ beds in lovely dorm rooms,, ...and a little store that sells snacks and necessities. But the store is locked and if you want to enter it you have to ring the store's the door bell, after which the hospitaliera who is busy registering pilgrims, working the bar, and doing the pilgrims' laundry, will drop what she's doing and open the store for you. The showers were about average.albergue showers. There was plenty of hot water and a hook on the wall upon which to hang your clothes, which was nice, but made for a tricky situation since the showers were co-ed. This meant that you had to either hang your clean clothes over the stall door where the'd get wet from the already damp stall walls and the spray from your shower, or you could hang your clothes on the hook outside the stall where they'd stay dry, but then after your shower you'd have to hop outside the stall for a moment to grab your clothes and risk flashing some poor guy who might be waiting in line to use the shower. I opted to hang my clothes on the hook and after my shower to crack the stall door and take a teeny peek outside to make sure there were no guys in the room, then zip out and grab my clothes and get dressed in the stall while holding my clothes, being careful not to drop them or let them touch the wet walls of the stall. It was a delicate operation but I pulled it off splendidly. Dinner was a 9.50€ pilgrim meal served in the homey, rustic-looking albergue dining room. The food was so good. I ordered a seafood paella for starters, ...followed by the tastiest, tenderest beef stew with a side of fries to dip into the juice, ...and for desert I chose, of course, the rice pudding option. Our very nice dinner partners were a Spanish university professor of languages and an Episcopalian priest who, unlike the Catholic diocesan priest we met a few days earlier on the Camino, felt no need to hike in his cassock. To each his own Camino.
Romaine, you commented that you found the Ice Cream Man kind of creepy but I think he's only trying to help. On our way out of Burgos yesterday we were passed by two pilgrims on bikes, Spanish girls, I think, who looked maybe in their 20's. A little while later we came upon the girls again. They had stopped and one of them was helping a very small, very old Spanish woman get across the street. The girl was tall so that she had to stoop so that the woman could lean on her arm and the girl walked very slowly with the woman. Later when the girls came whizzing by us again I called in English after the girl who'd helped the woman that what she did was very nice and kind. "It's nothing," she called back with a laugh. But for those pilgrims who witnessed her kind deed, it did all our hearts good. Many pilgrims do the Camino by bike. Biker Dudes and Dudettes, I call them. . Dressed in spandex, their gear in saddle bags attached to either side of their bikes, the Biker Dudes and Dudettes come zipping past us walkers, weaving between us if we don't move aside in time, speeding downhill, flying over the jagged rocks, peddling to beat the band up the steep hills. When you hear behind you the "jing-jing" of their bike bells, you'd best move aside, fast. They almost always travel in packs, so when one Dude or Dudette comes zapping by you, you can be sure that a few more are close behind. In the afternoons the Dudes and Dudettes come bouncing into the albergues, all sweaty and cheerful and peppy. They then bounce around the albergues in their undies, guys and gals alike, chatty bundles of energy next to us tired, draggy foot soldiers. They're the first ones to hop into bed at night and in the morning they're gone with the first light. Some of the walking pilgrims find the Biker Dudes and Dudettes annoying and a hazard on the Camino. Me, I like the bikers, but I sure as heck jump out of the way when I hear that "jing-jing". Yesterday we walked 13.3 k's -almost 8 miles- ...from Burgos to the pretty little village of Rabé de las Calzadas. We stayed at a homey little albergue called Liberanos Domine, ...owned by the sweetest hospitliera and her friendly husband, who gives each pilgrim upon their arrival a miraculous medal of Mary the Blessed Mother, the patron saint of the town's monastery. We took the "completo" bed-dinner-breakfast package, as we generally do at the albergues that offer one. The cost of the completo was 8€ for the bed, 8€ for dinner, and 2.50 € for a breakfast of toast and jam with coffee or tea for a total of 18.50€ -about $20.75 - each. After we were showered, settled in, and had handed our laundry over to the hospitaliera to wash for us, we walked to the town bar, which is also owned by the hospitaliera and her husband and run by her husband. We had lunch at the bar, our usual fare of tortillas and bread, then hung out for a while, enjoying how the sociable bar owner greeted each pilgrim who entered the bar, giving each one a miraculous medal, asking each where they were from, then showing them a wall hung with mementos and currencies left by pilgrims from different countries. Dinner was a delicious meal prepared by the hospitaliera and served family-style. The first course was a tasty noodle soup made with saffron; next was a pasta salald followed by a tortilla festively topped with red pimentos. Dessert was yogurt. The hospitaliera told us that there would be vespers at 8 pm sung by the elderly nuns who live in the town's monastery, which these days is a hospital and retirement home for the nuns. About a dozen pilgrims including Tom went to the vespers service. They said it was very nice. We really liked the Liberamos Domine albergue.. Except that we couldn't quite figure out the logic of the bathroom. Can you? Two sinks, two showers and one potty? Yesterday morning Tom woke up feeling, thank goodness, miraculously better. We’d booked one more recovery day at our hotel, but as Tom didn’t feel the need to spend another day lying in bed recovering, we spent the day visiting Burgos. On our first Camino we passed through Burgos, spending one night in the municipal albergue and having just a quick peek at the cathedral on our way out of the city so we had no idea what a beautiful city Burgos is. Nor had we planned to spend an extra day visiting Burgos this time, either, but the fact that we weren’t able to get a room in the albergue and that Tom got sick then better ultimately turned out to be good fortune because, if all had gone according to our plan, we wouldn't have had the wonderful experiences of staying at the Hotel Norte Y Londres and visiting Burgos. Anyway, we spent the morning strolling around the Centro, as this part of the city is called, The building on the left is all part of the cathedral, but only part of the top of the building. The base of the building is in the plaza at the bottom of the steps. ....hanging around the square, ....and a crowded little pastry shop, ...that made me think of Panera, Spanish-style. Fortunately for us, the Spanish people love their sweets as much as we do, maybe more, as every other shop in the cities seems to be a bakery or candy or ice cream store. When lunch time rolled around we decided we'd like to return to the Italian place, called Pizza Y Competencia, were we'd liked the spaghetti so well the day before., We again ordered a small – read ginormous – very good mixed salad to share and this time decided to try a pizza. I ordered for us a wild porcine mushroom and leek pizza with tomato sauce and mozzarella, figuring we’d get something close to a mushroom and onion cheese pizza. However I learned that day that wild porcine mushrooms neither look nor taste anything like those little white round-topped things we slice and put on pizza in the States, nor are leeks just like onions. I can’t exactly say that the pizza was bad, as it did have a very nice thin and crispy crust. But it wasn’t exactly good, either. The taste was just so different, I couldn’t quite wrap my tongue around what it tasted like. So I’ll just say that the taste was different and be careful to avoid wild porcine mushroom and leek pizza in the future. After lunch we made another stop at the pastry shop for some dessert to eat on a bench in the square, then we walked a few more turns around the city, then we decided to visit the cathedral. The Cathedral of Burgos, the construction of which began in the 12th century, is an architectural wonder. It’s one of the largest cathedrals in the world and the second largest in Spain after the Cathedral of Seville (got that from the guide book). In Spain there’s an entrance fee to visit the cathedrals, which makes sense as I expect the cost of maintaining them must be tremendous. Anyway, it costs 7€ to visit the Cathedral Of Burgos, though with our pilgrim discount we got in for half-price. One could spend a whole day touring the cathedral, though as there are no public restrooms in the whole cathedral I doubt many people do. Though a wonder of human creation, the interior of the cathedral is all bars and walls and reminded me of a magnificent prison. Maybe for some people it was.
As for me, I'd popped into a bakery shop on the way to the square and bought myself (my mate wasn't hungry, having finished his meal) an empanada, a large square of puff-pastry filled with melted cheese and bits of ham ....which I happily noshed on in the square,. Afterwards I paid a visit to the Ice Cream Man, ....and I was one happy pilgrim.
The Spanish people are the nicest, most conscientious, helpful and hard-working people on the planet, and the staff at the Hotel Norte Y Londres is no exception. The day before yesterday when Tom and I got the last room in the hotel I saw the receptionisto trying to help some pilgrims who came in after us find rooms by calling around to other hotels for them. Yesterday morning when I asked the receptionisto at the front desk if we could stay another two nights because my husband was sick he seemed concerned and sympathetic and said that, though he thought the hotel might be already completely booked for the second night, he'd leave a note for the manager to see what they could do to help us. A few hours later the manager let me know that they'd worked it out and that we could keep the room for another two nights. Once again, we were very grateful to have landed at this place. Yesterday morning we slept in until 7:20, about an hour and a half later than usual, as most albergues want you out the door before 8 am and some want you out even earlier, so they can start cleaning and preparing for the next batch of pilgrims. We moseyed on down - well, I moseyed, Tom more dragged down - to the hotel comedor - the breakfast room, ....which was full of older pilgrims. We talked to a few of them who had booked an extra day, a "rest day" as taking an extra day in one place is called,, to visit the city. In the big famous cities like Pamplona, Burgos, and Leon, the albergues will let you spend an extra day to visit the city. Otherwise you may stay only one night, though I think if a pilgrim were sick in a small village where there was no hotel or hostel to recover in the hospitaliero would probably let you stay in the albergue. The breakfast, which was included in the 60€ cost of the room, was lovely, in a bready way, though there were also some apples and yogurt along with the rolls, muffins, and croissants: After breakfast Tom went back to bed and I went down to the lobby to ask the receptionisto if there was a laundromat in the neighborhood. He gave me a map and showed me how to get to a laundry service called Vite-Sec, where you leave your clothes to be cleaned then delivered back to the hotel. Tom pulled himself out of bed and we walked the several blocks and, with the help of the local folks, who stopped to ask if they could help us a couple of times when we stood on the side walk trying to figure out my map - the Spanish always stop to help if they think you look the least hesitant about where you're going - actually, I've found New Yorkers to be the same way, though not necessarily Parisians, at least not the last time I was in Paris 40 years ago - anyway, we finally found the Vite-Sec, a busy place full of customers and workers, including a woman ironing up a storm, working that iron a mile a minute. As the friendly lady behind the counter took our clothes and processed our order she told me she spoke a little English and I told her I spoke a little Spanish, so she suggested we should practice on each other. So we practiced talking about the weather for a minute back and forth in English and Spanish. It was actually quite a chilly morning, I was wearing my sweater and my jacket, and the lady explained to me that Burgos was a cold place, colder than most of the rest of Spain because it was in the north. For being so busy, she was a really friendly lady. Anyway, by 7 pm our clothes were back at the hotel, clean, dry, and smelling wonderful. It cost us 12€, about $13.80, but we didn't care, those were some gross clothes before they were washed. On our way back from Vite-Sec to the hotel we passed a pastry shop selling the most divine-looking pastries, .....including some treble-clef eclaires, ...which it would have been wrong not to buy, so we bought a couple and brought them back to the hotel for later consumption. A few hours later when lunch time rolled around Tom, still lying in the hotel bed, was craving some warm comfort food, a plate of spaghetti or some paella. Just hearing Tom talk about spaghetti gave me a sudden jones for spaghetti, too. So we returned to the streets of Burgos, Spain, to look for an Italian restaurant. We found one right around the corner from our hotel. We ordered a small salad (with tuna, of course) which turned out to be massive, which we spit and two plates of outstandingly delicious bolognese spaghetti of such gargantuan portions that one plate would have been more than enough for us both. I, a gold-star member of the clean-plate club, could, regretfully, finish only of half my fabulous spaghetti. Of course, I guess I was subconsciously saving room for the pastries waiting back in our hotel room which we polished off for dessert after our spaghetti lunch. After lunch - and in spite of how yummy our lunch had been - Tom was feeling worse from his cold so he crawled back into bed and I spent most of the afternoon in the hotel by the side of my my sick mate. Around 6 pm I left the hotel for a little walk around the city, ...and around the cathedral, ....and to get a few shots of the Ice Cream Man. The Ice Cream Man seems to pop up all over Burgos. I love the Ice Cream Man. When I returned to the hotel Tom was still in bed and not interested in eating dinner. So I ventured out on my own to seek some nourishment, maybe some tapas, the small, appetizer-sized portions that the Spanish like to snack on.. The streets around our hotel were crowded with Tapas bars and people standing around the outdoor tables socializing and munching on plates of tapas. I ended up going into a restaurant that was empty when I entered but jammed with people having tapas by the time I left, and ordered a plate of patatas bravas - roasted potatoes in sauce, ....which were quite good but not as good as the totally awesome patas bravas we had in another town along the Camino, ...for which the sauce was ketchup over mayonnaise - I know, I wouod never have thought of that combination, either but it made a really good patas bravas sauce. I also ordered a mixed salad, ....the first salad I've eve had in Spain that lacked tuna fish. Somehow I didn't mind.
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AuthorPatti Liszkay Archives
November 2015
CategoriesThe sequel to "Equal and Opposite Reactions" in which a woman discovers the naked truth about herself.
A romantic comedy of errors. Lots and lots of errors. "Equal And Opposite Reactions"
by Patti Liszkay Buy it on Kindle: http://amzn.to/2xvcgRa or in print: http://www.blackrosewriting.com/romance/equalandoppositereactions or from The Book Loft of German Village, Columbus, Ohio Or check it out at the Columbus Metropolitan Library
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