Anyway, to update you all on what I´ve been up to the past week, on the 30th I walked through Burgos on the mostly flat terrain. I noticed that as I got closer to the city, both the buildings and the people appeared more and more unfriendly. Once I got into the city I showed my incredible skills of navigations by immediately getting lost. Fortunately, the cathedral in Burgos is gigantic (and beautiful) so I was able to find my way to it by never letting the spires out of my sight (perhaps a lesson about the church is in that experience?) Once again on the Camino, I left the city, noticing that the people and buildings looked friendlier and friendlier as I went. I had planned that night to stay at the albergue in Rabe de las Calzados, at the foot of the Meseta, a series of barren plateus. Contrary to what the guidebook said, the albergue was closed (could have been because it was Sunday.) As I was wondering what to do, it started to rain. I decided to walk the five more miles to the next town, which was a miserable five miles indeed. I finally got there, however, and got a mattress and hot shower. The bar was so crowded I decided to eat my chocolate with nuts (which was enough for God to fill me) for dinner and wait until breakfast.
The next day the bar looked closed, so I left the town and came to a tiny little place in the next valley between plateus. It was run by a nice German girl who fixed me a delicious toast with cheese and a slice of tomato and a couple eggs. It was perhaps the best meal I´ve eaten on this trip. Fortified, I continued through the rain to Itero de la Vega, passing GTG#3 (German tour group number three), who were walking through the Meseta with umbrellas and without packs. I tried not to make my disapproval too evident as I passed their bus, but I couldn´t resist a little shake of the head. There were few people at the albergue, except for a few French and French Canadians (oh, and one Italian), who were all very nice. Dinner was provided, a delicious paella (with chicken, clams, mussels, shrimp, and calamari) and then a choice of fish, chicken, eggs, or pork. I chose the pork, which turned out to be delicious. I drank a lot of wine that night, which forced me to go to bed early. I woke the next morning very refreshed, had the offered breakfast of toast, cafe-con-leche, and jam, and was on my way.
It was about this time I realized I was running very low on cash. In the next town I arrived in, there were several ATMs, none of which worked with my card for my savings account (turning my relief to dread.) I had brief visions of juggling on the street in Carrion in order to get the cash I needed, but Dad/Wick told me that their credit card would work at ATMs as well. Whew! Despite my relief at not having to be a street performer, I was still feeling pretty wretched, for the rain had continued in the morning, and I had walked over 100 kilometers in the last three days. God provided a three star hotel that night (which was really cool because it used to be a monastery), effectively rebuking me for whining and rewarding me for my efforts through the hardship. After a luxurious bath, I explored the church (which, upon exiting, I found out I was not supposed to do after 8:00.) It was dark, which made the tombs of the counts a little creepy, but it was still a cool experience. That night for dinner I joined what appeared to be an American (cringe) tour group in the resteraunt. I slept sooo well that night and had a hearty breakfast and was on my way.
I had another long day to Sahagun, sometime along the way passing the halfway point to Santiago. I also developed a bit of a scratchy throat. It rained a bit more that afternoon, and I was on the verge of emotional and physical collapse when I came to another hotel on the outskirts of th city. It wasn´t the place I had planned to stay, but it was the closest, and thus the best choice. My approach to the city was a very spiritual experience, for every time my legs threatened to give way, God would answer my cry and give me a new strength. I was so tired I had to skip supper again and go straight to sleep. I ate a huge breakfast in the hotel´s cafeteria the next morning, though, and drank plenty of orange juice to aid my throat, which had worsened over the night.
That day I walked the flat (yet still gruelling) distance to Mansilla de las Mulas, buying a couple apples and some cough drops along the way, which have helped a lot. Along the way I met a German woman who was kind and seemed rather starved for some company. My pace was a little faster than hers, though, so I took what moments of solitude I could to think. The landscape was quite beautiful, with plains stretching in every direction and some very distant mountains ahead (Montes de Leon.) It reminded me of C.S. Lewis´ The Great Divorce, which provoked my thoughts even more. I arrived at the large and crowded albergue there and ate a small tuna pastry at the cafe and my other apple for dinner, then went straight to sleep. Before going to bed I decided to take the bus to Astorga for the reasons I listed above. I still do not regret my decision.
From my last post to Mansilla de las Mulas, I walked nearly a hundred miles, with little food some days. I bussed to Leon this morning, then bought a ticket to Astorga. I got a little confused when the time came for the bus to leave, because I wasn´t quite sure which bus to board. There was a bus that said it was going further than Astorga, so I had the idea that it would stop in Astorga along the way, but I wasn´t sure. Thus, I missed my bus, but as it left I helped a tiny old lady carry her heavy bag into the station, so God used my misunderstanding of the transit system to some good. I was able to rectify my mistake and board the next bus, though I had to wait another hour. I was glad to be skipping the appraoch into the city, for it was very busy and ugly, as was a fair amount of the distance between Leon and Astorga. When I got to Astorga I scoped out the hotel which, according to the guidebook, has an award-winning resteraunt and got a room. I left my stuff in there and took some time to be a tourist and visited some of the plazas and monuments. I then did a bit of shopping and returned to my room for a three-hour nap. That pretty much brings us up to the present.
Over the past week I have seen and experienced many things. For a few days, I walked through horrible weather on rough roads, but God revealed to me that He is with me throughout the way, from the kindness of the German girl in the Meseta to the luxurious stay in the monastery to the fact that I still have strength to walk the road ahead. I miss my family and friends at home (and in Spain. It´s been a long time since I´ve seen Mom/Helen and Dad/Wick), but despite my lonliness I am not alone.
In Him,
Hunter
P.S. I kind of wish I had the camera with me, because over the past few days I´ve been seeing what literally look like hobbit-holes. No joke, I have seen at least three grassy hills with doors and windows and chimneys (and radio antennae.) Some have artificial porches, but all appear to have the main house inside the hill. Perhaps my increasing resemblance to Aragorn will coax a hobbit or two out to meet me, which brings me to:
Stubble Update: Pleasingly bushy on the chin and neck. I find it hard not to play with, because it´s such a novel feeling. Mustache still leaves much to be desired, but it is there. Chops still a little patchy, but another week ought to fix that.
