Steve : I’ve been taking some video along the way and I thought I’d post a couple of examples.
Here’s some Slow TV of walking across the meseta
Spain is very fond of wind turbines (as am I). Here’s an early morning dance, also taken on the meseta…
I can gather all the news I need from the weather report…
Steve : I’ve been taking some video along the way and I thought I’d post a couple of examples.
Here’s some Slow TV of walking across the meseta
Spain is very fond of wind turbines (as am I). Here’s an early morning dance, also taken on the meseta…
Steve : Bercianos has a strict no-getting-up-before-6:00am policy, which, on the whole, was adhered to. The promised snorefest (see yesterdays post) didn’t really happen. But sleep was slow to arrive because of the sweltering heat.
We looked at the ‘Vegetarian Way’ poster and decided to stop a few km before normal today in the tiny town of Reliegos, 6km before Mansillas, the usual stop. This will give us 24km to do to Leon tomorrow but that’s ok. We’ve booked hotel rooms in Leon so we can sleep in glorious solitude and use real TOWELS! Oh, the luxury.
The route today was hot and dry, and ran alongside the road.
After yesterday’s blisterfest I wore my sandals with thick socks, which might seem counterintuitive but seems to work for me – trading off coolness (in the thermodynamic sense, coolness in the fashion session having been abandoned long ago) and support. Frankly this part of the trail is a little boring.
H, J and I spent the walk discussing how to declutter ones wardrobe (capsule wardrobe, apparently), scuba diving and flying lessons (to the great surprise of J and me, H doesn’t actually know how to fly a plane. However he does seem to be able to do pretty much everything else…).
Breakfast was in El Burgo Ranero.
By 10:30 the heat was getting problematic so we were very pleased to stumble upon Reliegos as we rounded a bend over a hill and we found the Ada Albergue in no time. We were the first in.
Wash, rinse, leather, repeat, etc and done.
This is a very nice albergue. Highly recommended. Our hospitalero was from Wales and volunteers here for a few weeks every year. The above photo shows him serenading the locals.
Now, cash is in short supply and we were down to our last 12 euros. No cash machine until Mansillas, 6 k into tomorrow, and Spanish shops don’t do credit cards. We tried to pay with a MasterCard in the breakfast cafe and you’d think the lady had never seen one before. She had a look of “why are you showing me a piece of pink plastic?”
Just after getting settled in H got the dreaded email from Edinburgh University informing him that his final degree grade had been posted. J and I stole his iPad and login whilst he looked on in pain. No worries. Let me introduce Mr Hamish Hutchings, BSc Hons, Upper Second. Oh yes… we were sadly too broke to celebrate.
Following our bread and cheese lunch J got the same email. We stole her phone and we’re delighted to inform her that we were now in the presence of Ms Jennifer Logan MA Hons, Upper Second.
By now we had a mere 2 euros and 12 cents to our name so celebrations were restricted to a carton of fruit juice and a KitKat. Living it large.
Dinner was splendid. Pedro, the albergue owner, is an excellent cook and we had the best meal of the trip so far. Pedro provided a free bottle of wine and toasted the future of the new graduates. Very pleasant evening.
There were only 8 of us in that evening. No snorers!
Early to bed. Tomorrow is the trudge to Leon alongside a busy road.
Steps 31,683
Distance covered, according to Brierley
Other Fitbit stats
Steve : Up late today. Breakfast was served from 6:30 and we made it around 7am. There had been a big rain storm in the night and I woke at one point to the sound of huge rain pellets hammering a corrugated metal roof. A lovely noise.
We were all a little low on enthusiasm when we set off, but we’d only got 20k to do today so… head down and get on with it.
We’d walked a whole 2.5 km before we came upon a sign advertising a veggie cafe serving healthy breakfasts.
We felt obliged to stop. We eat huge bowls of fruit salad and drink proper cappuccinos to the accompaniment of Johnny Cash blasting out over the town square.
An hour later, with very full bellies, and much improved moods, we were off.
J and I had an enthusiastic discussion as to whether Paul Simon was our favourite songwriter (dear reader, I have raised her in the way she should go…) which got us to Sahagun around 11am. It was getting hot.
Sahagun was taking down the bull barriers that lined the town streets. Apparently we’d just missed another bull running thing.
The casual animal torture that passes for cultural entertainment in northern Spain is baffling to us animal loving Brits. Maybe it’s a national blind spot – Americans have loony gun laws, Germans have no speed limits and we Brits have the House of Lords…
More Coke Zeros in Sahagun and we set off on the afternoon trudge long the roadside to Bercianos. Not a pleasant walk and far too hot.
My blisters are driving me nuts but, being a stubborn sort, my solution is just to keep going. We arrive at 1:25pm and the albergue opens at 1:30.
We join the queue and I have a small blood sugar related almost-collapse. We check in to this truly splendid albergue and do the shower thing. We stagger into the only bar we can find and each eat a large pizza. I feel much better. Back to the albergue for a sleep. I drift off listening to ‘The Big Sleep’, another BBC Radio 4 play. I wake up at random moments and realise I have no idea what’s going on. You cannot fall asleep during a Raymond Chandler story…
It’s so incredibly hot that we return to the bar, which for reasons we can’t determine, is quite cool and pleasant. We watch the Simpsons dubbed in Spanish and zone out.
This albergue is a donativo, run by volunteers on an entirely free basis. It really is a lovely old building and seems quite popular with the seasoned Camino veterans.
As with most donativos there is a communal meal in the evening. A veggie option is provided and all us veggies sit together to make life easier for the hospitaleros. The table is an eclectic group, us Scots, an Austrian, three Germans, a Canadian, a Spaniard, an Italian and a young lady from England – who was doing the Camino following a 2 year stint in South Sudan with Save The Children Fund and a bicycle trip from London to Hong Kong. Like you do…
The delight of communal dinners is that you are forced to meet your fellow travellers. The albergue sensibly has no WiFi and the hospitaleros go to some efforts to make the peregrinos talk to one another.
Following dinner we all gather in the back garden in a big circle and join hands. The lead hospitalero asks us to go around the circle, give our names, and, if we want, state why we’re on the Camino.
I say that I want to prove I’m not dead yet and I want to do something with my daughter, and I add, with a lump in my throat, that I want to remember my infirm son back home. Definitely another CALS* moment…
Others give diverse reasons, others stay quiet. The circle completes and our leader instructs us to hug each other in a meaningful manner. Yes, I know it sounds corny, but written down on a screen, so does every other significant moment in your life… I loved it.
They specialise in spectacular sunsets around here, and, in fact, the main photo atop this blog was taken at this very albergue last year on Jen’s first Camino trip.
So, around 10pm we go to the highest point in the village to watch the sun set. We sit next to some splendid Australian ladies who are celebrating their retirement with a Camino walk.
That same sun, that only a few hours ago was trying to kill us, finally hits the horizon.
The best albergue experience so far…
*Camino Adjusted Lachrymosity Syndrome
Steps 32,311
Distance covered, according to Brierley
Other Fitbit stats
Yup, at the close of yesterday my Fitbit had registered 534,679 steps since we started on this lunatic quest. Oh yes….
That was on Day 14 of 30. Will we make a million?
I write this in Bercianos where, based on the performance in the afternoon nap stakes, I predict a night of low to mid Richter scale snoring.
Before I forget, let me tell you a tale of how appearances can be deceptive and how even the most apparently unlikely candidate can raise their game to supersnore levels.
In Los Argos we’d managed to get into a small room with only five beds. There’s three of us and we can all confirm to you and each other than we don’t snore. A fourth shows up, a 20ish Swiss German girl. Should be fine, youngish girls don’t snore (stereotypes abound here, Jen will step in any second now…). Our final resident is a very fit looking 30-something Frenchman. Excellent we think.
Oh but dear reader, we were so very wrong.
Mr Fit Frenchman turned out to be none other than Snorty Jean de Snorty, winner of last years Mr Snorty championship. I’ve never heard such a loud noise coming out of anything alive apart from a cow I once saw in labour.
We were stunned. At one point Hamish jumped down from his top bunk and sat on the floor with his head in his hands (remember, at this point in the trip none of us had managed a good night’s sleep). I feared that Snorty Jean de Snorty would fall victim to some egregious punishment that H had learned in his boarding school days.
But it seemed that H’s loud landing had interrupted Jean de Snort and he was quiet! Quick, get back to bed, shut your eyes, think happy thoughts and get to sleep before the racket starts again. Well, as we all know from the Christmas Eve’s of our childhood, lying still and hoping for sleep never works.
I can’t actually recall if any sleep was had by anyone until, finally, at 4:30 or so Snorty Jean got up, incredibly quietly (I’m sure he didn’t want to disturb us – oh, the irony!) and he was out by 5am. We finally got to sleep. For an hour. At 6am we, the hardened four, the undead, staggered into the daylight and went on our way.
I was there, I saw it, I was in the presence of greatness….
Steve : Way back in Zubiri we saw a poster called ‘The Vegetarian Way’. On it was Alburgue San Bruno, in Moratinos. This would be an extra 3km beyond the Brierley recommended stop at Terradillos de los Templarios, but we were craving something other than cheese rolls for our sustenance. Thus, a 30km walk awaits.
Jen wakes up extremely grumpy. Years of experience tells me that this is not a Good Thing but there’s nothing anyone, particularly me, can do about it. We are up at 5am and make a decent breakfast of scrambled eggs and fruit bought from the lovely air conditioned supermarket the night before.
Off we go…
Off we go, approaching the 17km stretch of nothing before the tiny village of Calzadilla de la Cueza. We’d been warned to make sure we had enough water and energy bars.
I rather liked the nothing. I put on my headphones and worked my way through Paul Simon and the Afro-Celts. I was flying along. We made good progress before the sun came up.
A dark an ominous sky was to our right, to the north. We hoped it would stay there…
It’s hard to convey the scale of this place. It’s big and flat and nothing.
About half way through the 17km was a rest stop. Some wit had added this graffiti to the sign.
Her Grumpiness was bringing up the rear. We made it to a cafe in Calzadilla. There’s a dip in the plain. You’re walking, walking, walking and then out of nowhere appears the town.
A spinach and potato tortilla at 9am was most welcome.
Then the heat starts and the trudge begins. Through Ledigos…
…where J hops in a taxi to accompany a Canadian girl who has ground to a halt with very bad blisters. The idea was to take the taxi to the albergue at Terradillos, and J would wait for us there. Our Canadian friend decided to go to Sahagun, another 10k or so, so Jen exited at Terradillos and waited for H and me.
More Coke and apple pie and we were on our way on the final 3k to a veggie albergue in Moratinos.
We stagger in to San Bruno around 1pm, hot and bothered. The Italian couple who run the place are lovely and within an hour we’d done the washing of us and our clothes and we spent the rest of the day lounging around with our feet in a cold-water pool.
I had some big blisters so Jen did surgery and got to inflict pain on her father which improved her mood considerably.
The only other residents were a French Canadian couple who had walked from Montpellier and were setting a storming pace of 30-40k per day. Dinner was served at 7pm. Tagliatelle pesto, done properly, and a big salad. Good conversation, swapping traveller’s tales and comparing notes.
Early to bed, us three were the only inhabitants of our 18 bed room. A good day. Even Jen cheered up…
Steps 41,093
Distance covered, according to Brierley
Other Fitbit stats
For the long 17km section today we had….
Paul Simon
The Afro-Celt Sound System
Paul Simon is a genius.
My sister got the ‘Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits’ album when I was around 12. It was the first time I’d heard music that was about something. Music that was, if you like, more than just tunes.
I fell in love with New York vicariously. In my dreams I’d go to New York and it would look like the red sandstone tenements of Glasgow (the only big city I knew) with some steel and glass towers in it. Later on I watched the 70’s New York movies like Serpico and Dog Day Afternoon. All fantastically sleazy and beautiful at the same time.
Paul Simon’s songs, like The Boxer and America were a fundamental part of my teenage years. They can still reduce me to tears in seconds.
And his new(er) stuff is pretty good too…
Steve : Some people go to great lengths to avoid the heat of the day. I got up around 3:30am to do my old-man-goes-to-the-loo-in-the-middle-of-the-night trip and someone else was up, packing their bag for the day.
We got up with everyone else and we’re on the road at 5-something am. Today is a short and boring day. 19 km to Carrion, almost all of it along the road.
We had a first rate breakfast at Poblacion de Campos in a rather upmarket albergue as it opened at 6:30am. We must look for more such albergues!
A second breakfast at a fun hippy albergue followed in Villarmentero de Campos.
Then, heads down, suncream on, headphones in, off we go along the roadside.
We arrive in Carrion around 11am. We have beaten the worst of the heat!
Our albergue, a convent just inside the town, called Santa Clara, is very nice.
We have a room with three beds and lots of room. Excellent.
Following the rinse, lather, repeat washing cycle H and I go out for lunch whilst J falls asleep. We find a proper restaurant with white shirted waitresses and air conditioning. We have a veggie version of the peregrino lunch special and are well satisfied. At the next table are half a dozen men who we think are the guitarists for a concert that is happening in the evening. They have the correct fingernails and – dead giveaway – one of them has a guitar. the leader of the group, an American, also has a very small kitten in the top pocket of his white shirt. Every now and then we hear a miaow and a tiny leg pops out to bat at something.
It’s now very very hot. I bought another pair of socks from a specialist hiking store. The lady tells me they are a good Camino choice. I hope she is right.
Back to the albergue for a sleep, difficult in the heat.
In the evening we go to the guitar concert in a converted church.
The American man in the white shirt in the restaurant is, indeed, the leader of the guitar school that is housed in this church. I ask after the cat and he tells me that it died.
I relay this to Jen who says that sick feral cats are very common in Spain. It looks like our American friend was trying to save one small kitten and had, sadly, failed in his efforts.
The guitar concert was excellent.
Back to the albergue where H made some banana and Huel pancakes and finally got to use the Huel he’d carried across half of Spain.
A final wander around outside the albergue, where H decides to do some slack-wire…
And then to bed.
Tomorrow is a long 30km+ day with the first 17 being the longest stretch on the Camino without water. Right!
Fromista to Carrion de los Condes
Steve : I’ve made it through all 27 episodes of ‘Cabin Pressure’. Moved on to a few Kermode and Mayo film reviews shows that I had saved (hello to Jason Isaacs). Today was an excellent Radio 4 play from a few years back (I have hundreds of GB of BBC radio programmes saved over the years) called ‘Double Jeopardy’, a fictional retelling of the relationship between Billy Wilder and Raymond Chandler as they worked on the film script for ‘Double Indemnity’.
Steve : Last night was very hot. The Castrojeriz albergue is one big room and it didn’t cool down until well after midnight. Not too much snorting and I reckon I’ve got the pilgrim way of being able to sleep through anything pretty much sussed.
Bags loaded and out by 5:30am.
Castrojeriz lies in a valley between two high plains. The hope was that we’d reach the other plain on the west side of the valley by sunrise. We made it with a few minutes to spare.
We walked the high plain…
…and then descended into Itero de la Vega.
Another cafe stop at 8:30.
The landscape was changing. The fields were larger and flatter and stretched to the horizon.
It was getting very hot. We crossed the Tierra de Campos, through Boadilla del Camino…
…and walked into the scorching town of Fromista around 1pm.
Fromista is rail yards and canals and long low buildings holding who knows what. The albergue was just off the main square. We arrived, did the pilgrim thing of shower, clothes wash and sleep for an hour or so. We Scots cannot handle this heat.
The 25km had taken their toll. Our feet and legs were fine but the heat had exhausted us. We sat around. H and I fiddled about with tech and backed up the thousand or so pictures that I’d take so far. Dinner was in a cafe off a rather tired looking strip: tagliatelle with mushrooms times three. As we were sitting outside a considerable wind blew in from the east. We were grateful for the cooling effect but in the end we had to retreat into the cafe. We watched a rather good basketball game on the bar TV.
We sloped off to bed at around 9pm…
Castrojeriz to Fromista