27 April, 2019

Ventosa to Cirueña (km184 to km209)

Today the day dawned very cold, but clear skies promised a sunny day. 

We have been walking The Way for ten days now, and for the first time our legs and feet seemed to be a little less sore as we set with the ambition to pass the 200km mark by day’s end.

As we began, the pathway again comprised our favoured soft red soil, with large rounded rocks our feet were able to easily navigate.

The trail initially wound its way through undulating vineyards, and we made good time to the large town of Nájera where we enjoyed breakfast on green grass next to the river.

Climbing out of Nájera the blue skies above were very busy.

Countless large eagles were circling and using the developing thermals of the warm day to gain height, whilst above them the skies were criss-crossed with the contrails of numerous passenger aircraft.

Cresting a large hill the landscape before us suddenly changed. Instead of having the normal short glimpse of the Camino ahead, we could now see it stretching out for many kilometres, passing between large fields of green and yellow crops laid over gently undulating hills. Snow-capped mountains framed the distant horizon and, as we walked, small picturesque villages, each with a church bell-tower, came into view on the pathway every few kilometres.

Our legs felt light as we walked, and even the final large hill into Ciruena didn’t slow our pace.

Ciruena proved to be a curious town. The first point of contact was a beautifully manicured golf course, which is not what we had expected in rural Spain. This was part of a modern ghost town, a new suburb of modern apartment buildings and townhouses arranged around parks and squares, but largely unoccupied, the result of a development caught out by the Global Financiasl Crisis of 2009. Emerging at the other end we entered the ‘real’ medieveal town and found our albergue, which was not hard given its vibrant colour.

Our host was also very curious, and served the night’s pilgrims a hearty stew largely comprising lentils that certainly gave digestion systems something to think about for the next 24 hours. Leo made a brave attempt, but ultimately pleaded clemency, and we walked to the local bar to get him a steak. In the process we practically walked into another part of our Orisson family, Canadians Kate and Barry, who joined us for a drink and a long catch-up.

In the end we had covered 24kms, crossing the 200km mark, and finished the day in great company,

Accommodation: Albergue Virgen de Guandelupe, Cirueña Opción

28 April, 2019

Cirueña to Belorado (km 209 to km 239)

The chorus of U2’s song repeats over and over again through the mind as we experience the most enjoyable walking conditions on The Camino so far.

Once again it had dawned cold, but promised another fine sun-filled day ahead. Our day had started with a surprise at 6:30am thanks to our host hosteliero who went from room to room to make sure everyone was awake and getting ready to leave. Most aulberges require pilgrims to depart by 8am and this guy was taking no chances!

We found that we had pulled up well after our long walk the day before, so today we set the ambitious target of reaching Belorado, 30km away.

The previous day’s wonderful scenery proved a mere entree to the stunning trail that the Camino had in store for us today. We travelled through a succession of crop-filled valleys, each longer and wider than those of the previous day, making the blue sky seem enormous and enabling us to see pilgrims travelling along The Way well into the distance. The bright sun ensured the vivid colours of the land and sky were on show, and the warm conditions allowed the mind to wander as we moved ant-like across the landscape

At the end of each valley, and breaking the walk into convenient sections, were a succession of scenic hilltop villages, offering refreshments and importantly, after the dinner the night before, timely amenity opportunities.

By this stage of The Camino, most walkers are carrying some form of ailment to feet, legs or shoulders. Consequently refreshment stopping points are starting to resemble battlefield dressing stations, filled with bandages, body fluids and agonised expressions as boots are removed and damage managed. The pain dissipates a little however, with a cafe con leche, or San Miguel to sip, and Camino friends to catch up with.

Re-joining the pathway after a stop for a mid-morning breakfast, we bumped into Kate and Barry again, and we enjoyed their company for the hours that followed. Halfway through the day we departed the La Rioja region and found ourselves once again walking on the pathways with the murderous marble-sized gravel that contributes to so many blisters.

Saying our farewells to Kate and Barry at their destination for the day, we set out to conquer the final 10km of our day’s walk. Our feet and legs were very pleased when our albergue finally came into view and we were able to shower, enjoy a cold drink, and reflect on a great day’s walking in Spain.

Accommodation: Albergue Santiago, Belorado

29 & 30 April, 2019

Belorado to Burgos (km 239 to km to km 288)

This morning we decided to follow the advice of several experienced Camino walkers to take a bus into the major city of Burgos, rather than wasting a day walking through suburbs and industrial areas. This would give us more time to enjoy the sights of this historic centre, rest our bodies, and avail ourselves to the city hiking stores to make equipment changes.

Accordingly we had a hybrid day, walking from Belorado to Villafranca, catching a local bus into the old city of Burgos, and then treating ourselves to a night in a hotel. We felt strange, and not a little guilty for taking the bus, but this vanished as the bus spent the next hour negotiating dreary cityscapes.

Jennie at mission control had found a great hotel near the city cathedral (Camino central) and negotiated all of her signature value-ads, including early check-in, breakfast and a midday check-out (!!) After two weeks of albergue living it was pure bliss to be sleeping in bed linen, having our own bathroom, not needing to use shower shoes and, being able to sleep-in without being woken by early leavers. The less said about bunks the better.

Checking-in we discovered Kate and Barry had had the same idea, and had found the same hotel – bingo moment!

Under other circumstances, when visiting a stylish European city, time would be spent at historic sites and wandering through shopping precincts. Not now! We strode out in our finest ‘wash-day’ pilgrim’s clothes, sometimes just a rain jacket and rain pants with nothing underneath, whilst soaking most of our kit in our hotel bathtub. Needless to say pilgrims are easy to spot amongst the finely dressed locals.

We found a nice cafe table in the main square, in the shadow of the amazing Burgos cathedral, to take a load off our feet and consume coffee, beer, and healthy food, and kept an eye open for our pilgrim friends.

The following day, fearing the hotel would track down the source of the solid mud that had made its way into the drains after doing our washing, we moved into the main Burgos municipal albergue. We then proceeded to take a rest day doing much the same as the day before.

The albergue was very impressive, the recipient of several architectural awards. Dodging the daily siesta shop closing hours, we also posted some items home, that we weren’t using, in order to lighten our packs, and replace other items that had gotten lost.

All too soon the Albergue curfew arrived, and it was time to drain the last of our wine, say goodnight to friends and retire for the night.

Tomorrow we would once again pull on our hiking boots, and bandages, and enter the famous ‘Meseta’ part of The Camino.

Accommodation:

Night 1: Hotel Norte Y Londres, Burgos
Night 2: Albergue La Casa del Cubo Leona (Municipal) Burgos Centro

01 May, 2019

Burgos to Hontanas (km 288 to km 318)

Today we left behind the built environment and entered the wilderness of the Meseta. The Meseta are Spain’s high plains, covered with endless crop fields and offering little in the way of shelter. They are a famous, and for many, an essential part of the Camino Frances.

The Meseta traditionally forms the second of three phases of The Camino.

The first phase is very much about the physical, the body adjusting to hiking everyday, whilst also contending with some of the most difficult legs of the Camino.

The Meseta is about the mental. With little variation in scenery to captivate the mind, and offering little else to do but walk the seemingly endless road ahead, The Meseta creates the time and space to turn inwards and think about things that don’t get attention in our everyday lives.

Many do not see the value of the Meseta, and delete it from their itinerary. For purists, is the most important part.

We departed Burgos, with ‘Canadans’ Kate and Barry, on a cold but clear day, our clothes smelling of the apple shampoo we had used to wash them, which made a nice change for us and those in close proximity.

Our anticipation of entering the Meseta was offset a little by the breaking news that today was was the beginning of another holiday in Spain, and again accommodation seemingly evaporated in a few hours.

In the Spanish we have found a nation which may rival Australia for the love of a public holiday. Seemingly exhausted by the extended Easter break, the Spanish authorities had thoughtfully extended the Wednesday May Day holiday with two additional days to create a worthwhile break. The Spanish had understandably responded by flocking to their great outdoors, including hiking and cycling The Camino.

That morning many travellers at the albergue had arisen noisily before 6am, waking everyone else in the process, and departed to race for the small number of beds that cannot not be pre-booked, and are allocated on a first-come-first-serve basis. We have subsequently christened these travellers generically as the ‘Montana Convention’ in honour of two pilgrims, seemingly without the capacity to whisper, who informed each other, and the rest of us, about the virtues of this state at 5:55 am whilst brushing their teeth.

Our group were hindered by blisters, and were not going to be in contention for remaining beds, so we had a civilised breakfast and decided to walk on, relying on the Camino mantra ‘ The Camino will provide’.

We climbed up the high escarpment that marks the beginning of the Meseta and, surmounting the top, found ourselves surrounded by endless flat green wheat crops as far as the eye could see. Gone were the rolling hills and distant mountain ranges, replaced by a hard straight line between land and sky. The flat tableland is broken occasionally by small depressions, where the towns are tucked away, sheltered from the harsh conditions, and effectively hiding them from view until you are practically upon them.

For most a journey of 20km or so is a sustainable daily distance, and we arrived at our planned destination of Hornillos del Camino, 21km from Burgos. As anticipated, no beds remained, and, with plenty of time, sun, and cold beer on hand we sat down to consider the situation. 

It is not unheard of for pilgrims to occasionally rough it by sleeping on church porches and, given the church at Hornillos had a mighty fine one, and that the beer was starting to have a say in things, we began to mull this option over, as an opportunity create a Camino memory for ourselves.

Meanwhile, telephone calls revealed some available beds in Hontanas, 11km down the track. The albergue would hold them for us for one hour, an infeasible walking challenge even on a good day. However, the novelty of a stone porch and prospect of no shower was wearing off, and we rose to the challenge.

Discovering a local taxi number on the bar wall, Leo, Kate and Barry, along with Jasmin, a German colleague, who was also spent, soon sped off to claim the beds. Meanwhile, James hitched his pack and walked, enjoying some quality solo ‘Meseta Time’

During the afternoon, a steady stream of friends wandered into town, all a little worse for wear, having walked further than anticipated in increasingly hot conditions. That evening we dined together at a local bar run by an lively Irish woman, and featuring live music entertainment. Discovering Leo was a singer, he was invited on stage to cheers from the room, and sang two unaccompanied Ed Sheeran numbers, which had everyone singing the choruses in all manner of languages.

Our unplanned day had proven exhausting, but highly satisfying. We finished the day in a town far more captivating than the one originally intended, had moved our backpacks a few extra kms towards Santiago than planned, and had weathered another challenge with many friends, strengthening the bonds just a little more.

Accommodation: Albergue El Puntido, Hontanas Centro

02 May, 2019

Hontanas to Itero de la Vega (km 319 to km 340)

The day dawned clear, sunny and incredibly cold, but we knew that we would be in for a warm day on the Meseta once the sun rose in the sky.

Leaving Hontanas, The Way followed the small valley that sheltered the town, with the high plain escarpments rising steeply on each side.

Mid-morning we arrived at the beautiful remains of the ancient Convento de San Antón XIVth, through which the Camino, passes. 

Strains of classic guitar music drew us to a cafe, of the precarious rustic nature often found along The Way. Tucked away behind one of the ruin walls, it provided a perfect place to enjoy a coffee out of the cool wind, and to meet some new faces. Our ears quickly tuned in to the relaxed antipodean style of English predominating, and it turned out we were in the middle of a herd of Kiwis. We defended ourselves, and our Canadian colleagues, from the usual cross-Tasman banter, and enjoyed having the chance to converse using the rapid, dry humour that is unique to our parts.

A few kms further and we arrived at the beautifully preserved medieval town of Castrojeriz, wrapped around the base of a steep hill, its crown dominated by the ruins of the hilltop castle Castillo IX. 

Kate, with several ailment-free Caminos under her belt, had been struck down by debilitating blisters, illustrating how seemingly random they can be, a case of the wrong combination of shoes, socks and road conditions on any given day. She and Barry decided to stop at Castrojeriz and do some foot maintenance and give her feet some time out of hot shoes, in the hope of re-continuing the next day.

Leo and I continued on, ascending up the very steep escarpment to the Meseta plains again. Here we took the opportunity to introduce ourselves to some French pilgrims whom we had seen several times from a distance over the past week or so. Distinctive because they were travelling with a baby in a pram, it turned out they were three generations of women from the same family – mother, baby and grandmother. Given they were out here traversing one of the most challenging sections of The Way was impressive in itself, but their rate of progress was also amazing. Generally they passed us each day at some point (as indeed they were doing on this occasion) After a short chat as we repaired our feet (as you do on this journey) we bid them “Buen Camino”, and watched them trundle away into the distance, kicking up dust and pebbles as they went.

A few hours later we were nearing our day’s destination, the very small riverside town of Itero de la Vega, when a neatly restored roadside chapel in the middle of the fields and now being used as an albergue, came into view. I vaguely recalled stories of this distinctive place from several pilgrim’s accounts I had read, which emphasised a very spiritual and communal atmosphere, devoid of any modern conveniences, and offering a pilgrim experience similar to those of medieval times.

As we approached it should have come as no surprise for Garry and Martin, forever surprising us with their pursuit of new and genuine Camino experiences, to step out and greet us. We accepted their offer of cool drinks and the opportunity to take some shelter from the hot sun to have a look inside. This confirmed my recollections, with a single large space subdivided with curtains and even the original alter table still in place.

Refreshed, we said our goodbyes to Martin and Garry, wishing them good luck with their latest adventure, and quickly covered the last few kms to our planned accommodation. By the time we arrived the breeze had finally died and the sun had become oppressive.

Settling in, we found ourselves once again surrounded by Kiwis. C’est la vie

We reflected that today The Meseta had delivered a surprisingly varied and scenic day, filled with interesting experiences, given its reputation for plainness and uniformity.

Accommodation: Albergue & Hostel Puente Fitero, Itero de la Vega

03 May, 2019

Itero de la Vega to Villarmentero De Campo (Km 340 to km 364)

Today, after being spoiled for many days with beautiful weather and striking scenery, we walked a rather plain landscape, under overcast skies.

Stepping out shortly after dawn, there was a cold wind blowing and the sun was fighting the clouds unsuccessfully to Try and give us another stunning Spring day. Occasionally it broke through for a few minutes, highlighting the vivid green of the crops, but even these were in reduced supply today. In some areas we walked through rolling hills of bare earth, recently ploughed, providing a droll backdrop.

Even the pathway itself was doing its best to challenge our spirits, serving up km after km of a horrendous large gravel of a type not encountered before, and requiring a great deal of concentration to navigate.

Fortunately such a dull backdrop only served made the memorable parts brighter.

After years of pleading at every opportunity, Leo had been promised that he would be able to have his first-ever espresso coffee whilst on The Camino. Waiting for just such a day, where spirits might require lifting, we stopped in a captivating bohemian courtyard cafe, after a couple of hours battling the gravel, and enjoyed caffe con leche (coffee with milk) with croissants. The combination of shelter from the wind, warming sun, and the company of Australians Garry and Martin, combined to make it a memorable first coffee, as indeed it should be.

Later that day, finding ourselves plodding through flat, non-descriptive countryside we were intrigued to see what appeared to be, a boat gliding across the land ahead. Sure enough, The Way soon brought us to a picturesque, tree-lined canal, seemingly out in the middle of nowhere, and we followed it, and the boat, for several km. Arriving at the next town we learnt that it was part of an extensive systems of canals and locks dating back many centuries. The shaded pathway, extensive birdlife, and the simple pleasure derived from throwing stones into a body of water as we walked, transformed the midday walk into a wonderful memory.

Nearing the end of the day we passed through the town of Fromista and were amazed to discover our friend Matt (Monkey) from New Zealand, last seen in Burgos recovering from some old sporting injuries, whilst his group had moved onwards. Not willing to be separated for long, We discovered him in the process of riding a terrible bicycle he had hired over a 100km to catch-up. We shared some fruit, hugs and best wishes before he rolled on.

For Leo, the lasting memory of the day will certainly be our unique accommodation. Finishing the day in yet another very small town (pop 60), experience had taught us to be open-minded about what type of facility we would be staying in. It would be safe to say that we were still surprised, and delighted, to find an albergue with a garden filled with domesticated farm animals, and accommodation that ranged from the normal bunk beds in dormitories, to hammocks, teepee tents and rustic cabins scattered around the garden. Leo spent the next few hours befriending the donkeys who then took to following him for the rest of our stay.

It was clearly going to be a freezing night, so we went with the bunk sleeping option, and as we drifted to sleep we reflected that contrary to first impressions, the day would certainly be one we remembered. 

Accommodation: Albergue Amanecer, Villarmentero de Campo

03 May, 2019

A Camino Tale

Whilst most travellers on the Camino come forearmed with guidebooks detailing the Camino route, on most days that there is no need to refer to a book at all. Official signposts and markers have been augmented by a myriad of thoughtfully placed markers, painted arrows and other devices by locals and other pilgrims over many years to guide our footsteps.

04 May, 2019

Villarmentero de Campos to Calzadilla de la Cueza (km 364 to km 391)

Today we woke to the sound of hungry farm animals, and stepped out into what has been the coldest morning on the Camino so far. Once again the sun had emerged from behind yesterday’s clouds, and we were in for a clear sunny day.

For the first days on the Meseta we had been spoilt with landscapes that were simple, bold and striking. Endless green crop fields dissected by vivid white gravel pathways stretching into the distance, atop dramatic steep escarpments, capped by vivid blue skies had provided wonderful backdrops for walking and thoughts.

Today The Camino took us through areas that were devolving into forgettable backdrops. Gone were the escarpments, replaced by low rolling hills and fields of freshly plowed soil. Like the day before, The Way continued to follow the shoulder of a bitumen country roadway, safely separating pedestrians from vehicles, but offering little for the mind and ensuring passing vehicles intruded on thoughts. The early morning sun tried its best to bring things to life with its golden colours and long-cast shadows, but once it was high in the sky the visual show was over.

Morning break was taken at the pretty town of Carrión de Los Condes where, once again, we bumped into Australians Garry and Martin who were waiting for a bus to León to continue their unique version of doing ‘The Camino’. Having our morning beverage, we struck up conversations with travellers who had recently commenced the Camino in Burgos, a key starting point for many. Leo became an honorary fourth member of the ‘Travelling Bananas’, an unlikely multi-national trio of travellers whose itinerary was refreshingly ‘unstructured’ and were clearly enjoying every opportunity for a good time along The Way.

Our own day held a planning quandary of its own. Due to our starting point we had the choice of either walking a 10km day, or a 27km day, with the last 17km being without any intermediate towns. 10km would be a very short day, and would effectively constitute one of our precious rest days, whilst 27km would be on the longish side. In the end we decided Carrión was not the place to invest in a rest day, and we decided to push on.

The final 17km stretch commenced at Carrión (an unfortunate name invoking thoughts of feet being extracted from socks and boots at day’s end) Our guide book informed us that the road we would travel was part of the old Roman road via Aquitana, the original paving now covered with gravel. Whilst no toilets or water points were available, a mobile food van offered the promise of refreshments at the 10km mark. With it’s neat white gravel, and attractive trees lining both sides it looked very inviting. What could possibly go wrong?

Our previous reprise of Burke and Wills had already highlighted the folly of relying on mobile food vans. However, in the finest traditions of Antipodean exploration, where anything likely to dampen a good adventure is largely ignored, our journey unfolded, and then, unravelled.

As we walked, we soon noticed that the lovely shade trees on both sides of the road had started getting smaller and smaller, and, after a short while, it appeared that the tree planters had given up and gone home. The cooling breeze soon also evaporated and the sun reminded us of its intentions of giving us a warm day.

Once again the food van packed up before our arrival, and slowly drove past us as we walked on, the driver giving us a strangely knowing, yet sympathetic look.

We continued onwards for an hour, and then a second, and began to reflect on the original builders of this road. The Romans had carved an empire through, amongst other things, a level of dogged determination that simply wore down their opponents’ will to continue. The guys that Rome had sent to Spain to build this road had certainly lived up to their Empire’s standards in this respect, and we were gaining an insight into what Rome’s foes had been subjected to.

Our road continued mile after featureless mile, a heat haze now shimmering over the white gravel, which was reflecting light and heat into our faces. We crested each rise with the hopes of seeing our destination, only to have them dashed again as it disappeared over yet another hill in the distance. 

The unrelenting Roman road, and an accumulation of recent ailments, such as aching feet, blisters and chafing, combined to sap our will to go on, and forward progress eventually reduced to a crawl. 

After four hours we had not seen another pilgrim for some time, the last being a flock of French women who gracefully trotted, gazelle-like, past us over an hour before. Then, out of nowhere, a mad Russian appeared, muttering things about the heat as he staggered past in a full length tracksuit, which, on balance, made us feel much better about our personal circumstances.

Fortunately, The Meseta we loved came through one more time and defeated the Romans. Seemingly in front of our feet, the road dipped into a shallow depression, and there, without any warning and less than 50 metres away, with beer-drinking pilgrims sitting under umbrellas, was our destination! The little village of Calzadilla de la Cueza with its neat white buildings surrounded by grass. Bliss.

Things quickly got better when we discovered our friend Leandro from Brazil, one of our first-day Camino friends, and his friend Hannah, were staying in our room. In fact, not only in our room, but in the bunks above us! True to predicted form, the ‘Travelling Bananas’ also turned up, albeit at 11pm when everyone else was asleep.

From a travelling perspective it had been a forgettable day, but with a refreshing shower, meal and cold drink under our belts, and a reunion with old friends after a few days of solo travel, we went to sleep with smiles on our faces.

Accommodation: Albergue Camino Real, Calzadilla de la Cueza

05 May, 2019

Calzadilla de la Cueza to Sahagún (km 391 to km 411)

Following our arrival the previous afternoon, in a sorry state (Leo’s chafing in particular clearly making walking extremely painful) the Camino community had rallied and come forth with creams, bandages, potions, spells, talismans and all manner of things to assist.

The Brazilian hospitelero managing our albergue gave Leo a tube of German nappy rash lotion, with his personal guarantee of effectiveness. Sure enough, after shower, treatments and sleep, we awoke the next morning, with the most pressing ailments faded, and ready to continue.

Of course, after a few days of near solitary walking, the prospect of joining up with Leandro and Hannah for some good trail talking, also lifted spirits. 

Leandro was suffering badly from blisters, and had made the brave decision to buy new boots. Good footwear is the singularly most important item to ensuring an enjoyable Camino, and travellers typically spend a lot of time selecting and breaking-in their footwear ahead of starting so that, on day one, feet and shoes are ready to go. 

One of the most common ailments for travellers are blisters, caused by a combination of friction between foot and shoe, and skin softened from hours of being broiled in hot, sweaty footwear. These can be serious enough to delay walking, or require significant medical attention if they get infected.

What is often overlooked when preparing for the Camino, and cannot be replicated ahead of time, is just how much feet expand when subjected to weeks of continuous hiking. An increase in one or two shoes sizes is not unusual. In addition, dressings and bandages are constantly being applied to ‘hot spots’ to prevent emerging blisters developing, which effectively make the foot even larger in the shoe. The result is new friction points, and blisters.

Leandro’s original shoes were simply too small, and after three weeks of walking he had persistent blisters, and was likely to lose several toenails as a consequence. Now he was trying to break-in new boots, whilst walking large distances everyday, and hoping his battered feet would recover. In this challenge he was far from alone.

We were still recovering from the previous day, and, with Leandro’s fragile feet, our collective group were in no mood for a big distance today as we stepped out into another sunny, crisp morning. 

As to make up for the harsh conditions of the day before, The Camino relented and gave us some wonderful scenery in which to immerse ourselves. For much of the morning we followed a pathway edged with shade trees that wound its way around small, vivid green, hills and connected a series of closely-spaced villages.

Many of the hills contained private bodegas, essentially the ultimate version of a Spanish ‘Man Cave’ as far as we could tell. Basically a wine storage room dug into the side of a hill, or built and then buried under a mound of earth, they are entered via a neat porch and doorway, and often feature a chimney or vent projecting out of the hill above. 

Covered with the spring grass and flowers, the effect is something that invokes thoughts of Hobbits, particularly when clustered together.  It was not difficult to imagine men undertaking serious ‘wine storage’ activities with a few friends, and the fire going, as a key aspect of village life, and possibly of marital harmony as well, for generations.

Sometime during the first couple of hours of walking, we quietly crossed the invisible halfway point of our journey. 395km completed.

By midday our walking ambulance had reached the small village of San Nichols de Real Camino, a distance of 14km or so. Leandro had gone as far as he could for the day, and peeled off with Hannah, whilst we continued onward to the larger centre of Sahagún. 

We had pre-booked our accommodation, picking the option closest to the town entry point to minimise our trip distance for the day. It turned out to be a combined albergue and hotel with fantastic wall murals, some featuring St James, and others of the owner’s extended family, which we deduced when they sat down to have a meal in front of a harvest scene in which they featured.

By a strange quirk, that an expert in fluid dynamics might be able to explain, the bed situation had gone from famine to feast. Only days since participating in the great Meseta bed rush, we found ourselves the only occupants of a large, 80-bed dormitory albergue. In the end the owner decided two guests were not enough to operate the albergue for the night, and upgraded us to a private hotel room.

06 May, 2019

Sahagún to Reliegos (km 411 to km 442)

Today we stepped out into the now standard clear and crisp morning, with a very big mission for the day. Our plans for a walk of around 23km had received a setback when the nearest available beds turned out to be over 30km away in Reliegos, well outside our normal walking range. With no apparent alternatives, we booked the beds and set out with the intent of walking as far as we could, and reluctantly thinking about using a taxi for the balance.
Our first km was through Sahagún itself, and we stumbled upon most wonderful cafe, Confitería Asturcon, where we promptly stopped for breakfast. Occupying a small wedge of space at a fork in the road, it looked it had been transplanted from Paris or Madrid and dropped into this farming town. We were welcomed by the warm-hearted proprietress, who showered us with French-style coffee and pastries, which was served to the music of Louis Armstrong – a perfect start the day.
Leaving town, The Way led us on a gravel pathway, with neatly spaced shade trees, on the shoulder of a quiet country road that remained fairly uniform for the entirety of the day. The gentle rise and fall of the landscape meant we couldn’t see more than a km or so ahead, which made things interesting as forward progress opened up new vistas, at least initially.
We soon sighted friends Leandro and Hannah on the pathway ahead and, on joining them, found they were on a similar walking strategy, although they were very hopeful of making it all the way to Reliegos without taxi assistance.
After walking for several hours we arrived at the town of El Burgo Ranero, where we had originally hoped to stay. As the name suggests, it invoked thoughts of a quiet spaghetti western town, with only Clint Eastwood and the rolling tumbleweeds missing. Here, at Cafe La Costa del Adobe, we had the most amazing lunch, easily the best meal we have eaten on The Camino to date.
Sitting under umbrellas in the middle of the Main Street, and reluctantly moving each time a car wanted to pass every hour or so, we were soon joined by Swiss traveller Laura, likewise resigned to walking to Reliegos. After a hearty lunch, and many coffees to strengthen our resolve, we stood to leave, after awarding the café owner an order of the golden kangaroo pin for services to food excellence.
The need to consider a taxi to complete our journey had been weighing heavily on us, given the walking objective of The Way. It felt as though it would be Doing something that we would later regret, notwithstanding its practical necessity. Our companions sensed and understood this, and by the end of lunch, with the benefit of a good meal, and the gentle support of our friends, we had decided to try walking the entire way to Reliegos, a further 13km away.
The next three hours were indeed challenging for all of us, but through constant conversations and joking we were able to keep our feet moving and our minds off the hardship.
The name of today’s blog, the punch line from a classic Monty Python sketch, was selected in reference to Leo’s passionate love of word quiz games, and his ability to spring them upon unsuspecting walking companions. Today he was in his element, given the time available and a captive audience. His favourite is to take turns naming different animal species in alphabetical order. This continues for several rounds of the alphabet, until someone repeats an animal, or concedes defeat.
With Leo having been playing this game for over 400km of the Camino already, giving him an impressive animal database, and the game being conducted in English, which is rarely the native language of his opponents, the outcome is always a foregone conclusion. Some opponents however, such as Leandro, put up an impressive resistance, lasting several km.
We felt a giant sense of relief, and satisfaction, when we finally stumbled into Reliegos, just as the sun was nearing the horizon, especially those who had been immersed in quiz games.
James had promised the first round of beers, and after everyone had checked-in at their various albergues, we reconvened with a card table and deck chairs on the road outside our albergue, which was also a bar. The owner had prepared a huge dish of paella for her guests, and having plenty left over, insisted on serving our travelling group several helpings, as well as pizza.
It had been an epic day, where our Camino family had helped us continue our journey on The Way, without reverting to a taxi, through their friendship, support, and willingness to subject themselves to Leo’s Spanish Inquizition.

Accommodation: Albergue Vive Tu Camino, Reliegos