Camino Day 13
Buenos Dias Los Amigos,
Today’s stage took us the massively impressive distance of 34 kms, from Leon to Hospital de Orbigo.
This morning and last night were like the first day of school all over again. Exactly the same as at Roncesvalles, where we started some 22 years ago, there was a mix of young, fresh Camino virgins beginning their religious experience, interspersed with battle hardened veterans of the Northern Section.
This was nothing short of fantastic as suddenly, not only was I not the new kid, I was an experienced Caminoist whose every word was hung upon with reverence and respect! As we sat in a group outside the hostel, cheroots lit from the stubble of our beards, hanging from our lips, people marveled at our ability to survive such harsh conditions and our forbearance in the face of such adversity. Not for these people were the stories of crying over flea bites and friends leaving early – only tales of mountains conquered and French women saved!
A young girl positively gushed with thanks as I bent down later in the dormitory, understanding and compassionate smile on my face, to tighten a strap on her pack with a "It’s OK, you’ll be fine, most of the enemy will be on the other side of town defending the fuel dump anyway" kind of look! Whilst acne faced kids pulled brand new waterproofs from plastic wrappers and discussed the merits of compede against elastoplast, I casually stuck an unnecessary piece of electrical tape to the toe of my perfectly good boot and tried to suck in my stomach – the only giveaway that I had not, in fact, just walked from the North Pole to Leon in 455 days with nothing except a packet of polos and a can of coke for sustenance.
Unfortunately, the morning was much the same as Roncesvalles as well, in that every bugger and his uncle was banging around in the dark, trying to pull on socks, boots and everything else before the sun had even considered rising! In all seriousness, my 12 days on the Camino might not qualify me for a long service medal or a place at the Camino Senate, but they have at least taught me one thing – he who walks in the dark will, inevitably, miss the little yellow arrows and walk in circles until dawn.
As we eventually hit the road at about 7.30 am, at least an hour and a half after the young group of Spanish students had set off at such pace that they must have been attempting to make Santiago by nightfall, the game was in full swing. Pilgrims were rushing about in all directions, desperately trying to find an arrow and looking very much like the contestants in some massive version of the Amazing Race! In their confusion, they had forgotten, or had not yet learnt the golden rule on the Camino – when you lose the arrows in a town, head for the Cathedral or Church! In 800 kms of walking, God never misses a trick and walks you past every one of his houses to remind you that he is your Numero Uno priority on HIS walk!
Unfortunately, the walk OUT of Leon is about as bad as the walk IN to Burgos. In fact it is slightly worse as, through the smog and detritus of the suburbs, you can just about make out the mountains in the distance, the same mountains that are going to f**k your body up in about 2 days time.
Spain being Spain, the Camino also actually spends a large part of the first 10 kms out of Leon on the hard shoulder of the freeway and, by the time you eventually escape the din and roar of hurtling cars and trucks, you are hell bent on finding the nearest church to give thanks for your deliverance!
I had decided that today was the day to give my body a real workout after a good days rest and, with that in mind, we headed out to complete 34 kms, easily the longest walk so far. We had met up the previous night with another veteran, Donal, who walked with Larry for most of the morning. Larry is pretty much stone deaf and can, on a good day, just about have a conversation with me provided that there is no background noise. Donal, from Cork in Ireland, has an accent exactly the same as Brad Pitts gypsy in the film Snatch, and I marveled at how they could possibly communicate as they conversed ahead of me all the way along the deafening freeway. When I eventually caught them up I asked Larry what they had been talking about – "I dunno – I haven’t understood a word he’s said since we left Leon, I just keep on nodding and saying yep and he seems to be happy, so who cares?!" Bless Larry, but he really must get his ears cleaned very soon before he ends up buying a car or agreeing to marry some ugly Spanish girl by mistake!
In the afternoon, I walked alone for about 18 kms, largely because I had to stop to take a phone call from work – even the tax man won’t accept "but I was on a Pilgrimage" as reason enough to give up the hunt! It was a lovely afternoon and I ended up having a siesta, my first, next to a bridge spanning a small stream where it was hard to believe anyone had ever been before. It was so peaceful and beautiful that I stayed there for 2 hours and it really was my best moment on the Camino so far. Suddenly, sitting there in the sun, all those hard days after Pamplona and Logrono seemed worth it and I was so glad that I had decided to continue walking.
Eventually I had to leave if I was going to make my destination before nightfall and, in the end, I was very grateful that Larry and Donal had saved me the last bed in what must be the Camino’s best refugio. The look of pure hatred I got from a young Dutch girl who had just been turned away as I arrived was well worth it as I sank onto a clean bed in the loft of an old townhouse, overlooking a stunning river.
If every day of the Camino could be like today, I don’t think I would ever go back home – why would I need to? It was fantastic to be here and a real privilege! I have just heard that my father will, indeed, be joining us next Thursday and I only hope that he gets to experience, at least once, the way I feel this evening. I am going for a beer and some food now, and then sleep – for tomorrow we camp in the foothills of the Himalayas!
Adios los Amigos and Buen Camino.
Sumo
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LARRY
Somewhere after arriving in Leon I ran into Donal Ryan. Donal lives in Ireland, is studying to be a male nurse and walks the same speed as me. We walked the rest of the Camino together and I feel we’ll be friends for life. Donal had walked all the Camino the year before but this was his first day in 2005.
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The first day out of Leon the destination was Hospital de Orbigo where we’d find a very nice alberque, almost new and a friendly proprietor.
About 8K outside of Leon we were walking down a lane with a canopy of trees overhead. On the side of the road an old lady was filling a water jug from a pipe that had been driven into the bank to tap into a spring. James immediately went over, took the jug from the woman and held it under the pipe until it was full. I was impressed with his compassion. The lady thanked him and we resumed our walk. We looked back , the lady was waving and “Buen Camino” could be heard.
A little further we came to an intersection of sorts. One path went straight ahead, one went across the tarmac road and straight ahead and another, after crossing the road, went to the right. There were no signs or arrows that we could see. 2 men were working on the telephones lines and from their perch, high on the pole, they made hand signals that told us we should cross the road and turn right. We did and a few hundred yards later found a yellow arrow painted on a large rock.
A large amount of new people had come in at Leon. Their objective was to do long miles. This had been the case with others the first few days on the Camino, including us. Very few manage to continue that pace, most are limping by the 3rd or 4th day and many drop out before reaching their goal.
Today was the longest yet with 34K under our belts by 2:30. We left Leon at 8:00, after most had gone and had done the first 22K by 11:00. James had a conference call at 11:00 that would take 1-12 hr and then we would be off again.
Donal and I stopped at a farm implement store at the 22K point where we sat on a bench in front of the store in the shade. We waited for James for quite awhile. When people I knew began going past and I asked one girl who James and I had seen a few times before, if she’d seen James. She said he was sitting a short distance back up the road, talking on the phone. Donal went on and I went back to wait with James.
While I was waiting for James to get done with his conference call I sat at a cement table, on a cement bench in front of a carneceria (meat market) that specialize in pork. Anything and everything that could possibly be made out of pork was, and it was hanging on walls, in display cases and on tables in the middle of the room. I’d gone in hoping to find something to eat and came out with a bottle of water.
I went back to the cement table and not long after I sat down Kirsten showed up. With her was a young man from Spain. He asked me how I liked Burgos and I told him cities weren’t my favorite parts of the Camino. With that he went on a crusade to convince me that I should see the cities and I would like them if I did, like it or not. I think Kirsten could see that the conversation was going downhill. She got up to leave and the Spanish man went with her. He and I were to meet a few times after that. The subject of cities was never brought up again.
Donal was at the alberque early. I left James when he said he’d walk with some others and got to San Miguel alberque not too long after Donal. We had our choice of beds and a hot shower. We booked James in who showed up some time later. From that point on Donal and I became the Greyhounds. We’d go ahead, find the best places to stay and eat, or what appeared to be the best from our information, and would then wait and direct the others with us to what we’d found. My book has three stamps in it on one day. Two of which weren´t places we wanted to stay.
The day wasn´t the best for scenery, we spent a large majority of the time walking next to the freeway. I hoped that in the next couple of days, when we got to the mountains, that we’d have some space away from the noise and pollution of the freeway. The variety of food was improving and I felt really good. James´ rash from the bedbugs in Estella, was almost cleared up and his walking speed and distances were very good. His father was coming the next Thursday to join us for the finish and I wished it was possible for my sons to join me.
The Camino is a great experience but I believe those who see it through the eyes of the romantic would be surprised. My impression of the large alberques can be best summed up as a walking tour bus experience with blisters. I´m not a big dormitory type and feel much more comfortable while on the road than in the crowds.
I´ve found everyone to be very helpful and can say that I´ve met no one who is a peregrino (pilgrim) or anyone in a small town that wasn´t helpful when you needed it. Most times when standing with a “where am I¨ look on the face someone would come up and point the way. They recognize who you are by the backpack and there are lots backpacks a year going traveling the Camino.
Hospital de Orbigo has a colorful history. There’s a bridge across the river that was built by the Romans and restored many times since then. The arched bridge is made of cobblestones and cement with a smooth section in the middle. The Romans, or maybe the Greeks, were the ones who discovered how to make cement. The smooth section may have been there a long time, like to keep 2 jousting knights honest and on their respective sides. The bridge is very picturesque but when we were sitting on the terrace I didn’t have my camera. When we went to dinner I had one thing on my mind and forgot the camera. The next morning my mind was on hitting the road and I didn’t think about the camera. So, you’ll have to take my word and sketch for the visual aspects of the bridge
After checking in and showering we searched out a cafe/bar with the bridge behind us and found there was a story behind the bridge. The story was told to us by a man who lived there. After a beer and the story, and in a more relaxed state, we went back to the alberque to see if our clothes were dry and to decide if we wanted to cook, they had full facilities, or eat out. No one we talked to knew if there was a supermercado in town, Donal hadn’t stopped there when he did the Camino the year before and we were hungry. We found a very good place to eat, thanks to the suggestion from the alberque proprietor.
The story that goes with the bridge follows. In 1434, as the story goes, a knight sent out word to all of Europe that he challenged any other knight to a jousting on the bridge. It seems his motive was to prove his love for a beloved fair maiden. Kind of a strange way to show your love for another but things may have changed since then, and then on second thought, maybe they haven’t. Anyway, he challenged, and defeated, many different knights from all over Europe. Some say as many as 300.
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If you use your imagination you can almost picture the bridge and the knights.
After defeating the last of the 300 he, Suero de Quinones de Leon, put down his weapons and walked the Camino. No one seems to know what happened concerning his love affair with his beloved. Maybe things didn’t work out and that’s why he did the Camino. Maybe he was so busy jousting with the boys that the girl got tired of bandaging wounds and ran off with a traveling musician. Lots of people do the Camino for lots of different reasons.
When we got to the restaurant the TV was on a shelf in the upper, left hand corner of the room and it was bad news time. They played hurricane scenes from the USA, bomb scenes from Iraq, riot scenes from various places around the world and some authority from somewhere came on and discussed the unavoidable, inescapable pandemic that was about to ravage the earth. I’d turned on a TV 1 time in the last 4 months and I asked the proprietor, who wasn’t watching it anyway, if it would be possible to turn it off. He did. Some sayings are truisms like: “no news is good news.” Seems that there is no good news if you tune into the mass media version.
That was the last night I slept close to the door if I had a choice. Many people think they’re the only ones in the dorm. They get up in the night, open the door to go to the bathroom and leave the door standing wide open. Everyone close to the door gets the light in their faces until the person comes back and, maybe, closes the door or gets yelled at to close the door. In the morning, those who choose to get an early start before daylight, often getting lost in the process, shine their headlights or flashlights around the room until one feels like they’re part of a prison break or in a concentration camp.
With flashlights in hand or on their heads, they seem to have to make multiple trips to and from somewhere to get something from someplace that requires much digging through and thrashing about. All the while they’re doing that, they leave the door open and the light on. I talked to a couple of people about leaving the door open and they seemed to think I was asking too much of them to at least take others into consideration. Internalizing ones complaints doesn’t make the other party aware and doesn’t make the internalizer healthy. From my point of view, they should be aware and I should be healthy.
The town was very nice and the alberque where we spent the night was one of the best so far. The people were hospitable and the food, beer and wine not only good but
inexpensive.
Since Leon we had been walking and staying in synch with lots of others. It was decided that we needed to either go long and get out of sequence or go short to do the same. We talked with some of the others, not telling them why we asked the questions we did, and found that if we did a couple of short days we might be able to accomplish our task. James’ dad was still deciding when, where and whether he was going to join us so we had no real schedule except when James felt he had to leave for London.