2MoreMiles…

Day 34 (10.2 K)
Lavacolla – Santiago

Somehow, in the dark, we missed the trail outside of our Hostel this morning and ended up walking on the side of a busy road until we can make a turn back onto the Camino.  I did however observe that this main road had a previously used “old” road, to our left, reminiscent of the old Roman road we walked so many days ago…so maybe, just maybe, we were on the actual/original trade route. (Case in point, it was less steep and more direct, than the path we should have been on, for the most part.) 

Once we rejoined the yellow arrow marked (and TP’d) Camino we soon found ourselves 6.7 KM from the Cathedral, at Monte del Gozo where there is a monument commemorating the visit of Pope Paul the second. From here we get a good glimpse of Santiago and the spires of the Cathedral peaking above the urban sprawl in the near distance. A little excitement begins to build.

As we look down on the city and Cathedral, we have sought for so long, we laugh and shake our heads over the fact we have one more “hill” to climb, after, of course, we make our way down this steep hill. The Camino continues along a road aptly named Rua do Peregrino. We walk by large traffic circles, a university, stores and tall (new) buildings and enormous private albergues. The city, for the most part, is just waking up.

“New” structures fade as we enter the “old” and well preserved heart of Santiago. Before we reach the Cathedral, we, just by chance, run into Sue and Jerry browsing a book sale set up in a plaza.  Paul walks up to Sue and says, “Make sure you buy the heaviest book”, upon which she turns and to her surprise sees Paul.  It was a joyous reunion.  Seeing they had the lay of the land, they usher us to the Pilgrim Office where we get into a relatively short line to show our credential (covered with stamps acquired from our journey), and be issued our Compostela, or certificate.  We heard that you needed to get two stamps per day from Sarria (the last 100km) in order to receive your certificate, as apparently the other 700km doesn’t seem to count for much.  Not sure who made that ridiculous rule, as it would seem to me that walking that far should count for something.  Earlier in the trip, we met a young man who had started from his home in Poland.  What if he neglected to get his stamps the last 100km because he camped most of the way?  Then what? 

So… we wait patiently in line outside the Oficina de Acogida al Peregrino.  Sue tells us that the line we are in is the shortest she’s seen “so far”.  20 minutes later Paul, Dave and I are “summoned” into the office by a bell and a LED screen that indicates which of the 7 “clerks” is now available to examine our credential.  It is interesting that for such an ancient route and the simplicity by which you make this pilgrimage, that the issuance of one’s Compostela has become just short of automated. Simultaneously, at separate booths, we present our credentials.

Dave’s credential was filled out in honor of his son who had died 5 years prior.  In fact, Dave had carried his son’s ashes the entire time.  The only places he got stamps were from churches and albergues. Dave was worried, but the lawyer in him was prepared to “take it all the way to the Bishop”, if he wasn’t given a Compostela because he didn’t get two stamps a day from Sarria. His worries were not necessary as both he and Paul were issued their certificates without much examination or questioning.

She has examined and flipped over my credential several times as I write my name on a log-in sheet

I on the other hand had a quite thorough examination.  The young gal looked at each stamp and date.  She then flipped it over several times with a look of perplexity.  I too am becoming perplexed and frankly a little concerned.  ‘Is there a problem?’, I ask.  ” You do not have two stamps for each day from Sarria “, she replies.  ‘It rained on me for three days, since Sarria. Of course I didn’t get two stamps a day’, was my reply. Are you SERIOUS?! THis CAN’T be happening!, I say in my mind through nashing of teeth, as I recall Paul’s admonition, ” You better get a stamp”, as each day he dug his credential out from under his sopping wet pack cover, to which I would respond, ‘Naw, it will be okay’. Seeing my befuddled expression, the clerk states once again, “You did not get two stamps each day from Sarria”. I nod and smile. ‘It was raining, so it was kind of hard’, I tell her. ‘But I started, and walked from St. Jean’, I continue.  It appears that out of the 7 available clerks, I have gotten the one who is a stickler for rules. Why didn’t Paul get her? Argh! ” Well you still needed to get two stamps”, was her reply. About this time, I am thinking of all the sharply clad tourigrinos and peregrinos who walked portions or took cabs and/or buses, and begin to remove my shoes so I can show her my tattered shoes and feet (if I must) as proof of my journey. Of course I could have just shown her the pictures on my phone, but then that’s not very dramatic, and this situation calls for a bit of drama, I thought. She must of sensed my exasperation, or maybe she saw my clenched jaw, and promptly said, “Okay, next time you have to get two stamps…I understand the rain.  It rained here too.”  ‘So that means I get my certificate?’, I confirm with her.  “Yes, next time two stamps a day you must be sure to get.” Oh honey, there won’t be a next time…at least on this route, I smile and think to myself.  I graciously accept my Compostela and Proof of Distance certificates and quickly exit the office before she changes her mind. When I finally emerge from the office with certificate in hand, I am asked, ‘what took so long?’.  I tell them that apparently it IS true, you DO need two stamps a day from Sarria, and that she wasn’t going to issue me my certificate. Dave starts to laugh.  This guy did not get two stamps a day. He started in the middle of nowhere, initially without a credential (or map) and when he did get a credential, he had it issued in his son’s name (which is cool and ballsy).  Go figure. I on the other hand miss getting two stamps and I get the third degree. The irony is hilarious. As we have arrived early enough, we are able to check into the Last Stamp albergue where Sue and Jerry have been staying for the past two days, and freshen up a bit before the Pilgrim mass at noon.

The Cathedral entrance from which Martin Sheen and his companions entered in the movie, The Way, is closed for rehabilitation, so the best we can do is get our obligatory photo standing in the Praza do Orbradoiro.

We will enter from a side entrance, from the Praza da Quintana. The interior of the Cathedral is spacious and lined with confessionals with placards attached indicating languages spoken by the attending priests tucked away inside. The Cathedral is packed already with peregrinos, tourigrinos, and plain old rubber necking tourists (who have no clue that they will be at an actual full Catholic Mass). In the wing to the left of the alter, over which the Butafumeiro will swing, (if they do it during this Mass) we sit upon worn wooden pews whose kneelers are smoothed and indented with undulating ripples from years use . The story and practice of swinging the Butafumeiro (incense burner) is said to originate from the need to “fumigate the sweaty and possibly disease ridden pilgrims”. The size of the Butafumeiro requires at least six people (tiraboleiros). Paul heard that they sometimes let pilgrims assist with swinging the Butafumeiro. This is true, but only after a ” donation” of over €300 (Euro). So, Paul will sit and watch with me. Jerry and I hold seats, while Sue shows Paul and Dave where the statue and tomb of St. James is at. I will check it out later when the crowds have abated. I am exhausted and frankly a little overwhelmed. My foot is screaming in pain, and as most know, I am not a fan of crowds. I sit with my head bowed, to more fully ignore the perfumed masses, who ask if I can move over and make room for them to sit (instead of my husband). I also take time to reflect on our journey, and the transformations that have taken place. The peace that has replaced turmoil, and the prayers of healing for loved ones that I have offered daily on this pilgrimage. I now pray for continued peace as I am now seriously annoyed that Paul has yet to return and take his seat. It is 10 minutes before Mass is to start and I have been staving off people who want his seat for nearly 30 minutes now. Jerry is equally annoyed. Sue reappears, followed by Paul and Dave. I fend off one last person who has attempted to forcibly climb over me to take Paul’s seat, just as Paul returns. Once Paul is seated, I breathe a sigh of relief. Mass begins with a “warm up” from Sister who admonishes the crowd that you are not at a museum or secular event, but an actual Mass, and that their phones and cameras need to be turned off and put away.

Couldn't help myself...had to take a picture of the people taking pictures

All the while you see phones and cameras extended, capturing Sister’s admonishment. I watch as Cathedral ushers, in yellow vests, try and police the “photographers”. In the middle of mass, a large Asian tour group (like 50 people) with flags a-waving pushes its way through the crowds standing in the wings around the pews. A sole, yellow vested Cathedral usher first tries (to no avail) to intercept them and is joined by another usher. They both try to quietly redirect them. They are summarily ignored as Mass reaches the point of the ‘Our Father’, and the group continues marching through Mass, pointing and snapping photos whilst nodding to the obvious tour narrative playing in their earbuds. This is surreal. I’m not sure I am enjoying this. I walked all this way for THIS? I then remind myself that this too is part of the journey, and begin to chuckle. We have been to so many Masses in Spanish that we are pretty comfortable with the flow of today’s Mass, and can almost understand the translation… or at least portions of it. Once time comes for Communion, the uninformed people standing see this as an opportunity to take a seat, and are sadly disappointed when they are told we’ll be back.

As Mass comes to a close, out comes the Botafumeiro. Awesome! This should be good! They load it with the incense and light it up. Sweet smelling smoke oozes from the three foot tall, artfully adorned, silver Butafumeiro. Paul calls it the “Stanley Cup” of the Catholic church. Slowly it swings from left to right across the alter, extending further and higher with each pass. Hundreds of arms extend upwards with phones or cameras, set to video mode, to capture this spectacle. With each pass of the alter, the Butafumeiro reaches further out and over the throngs of people gathered and stuffed into the wings of the Cathedral to witness this. The Cathedral is said to hold over 1000 people, and it appears filled beyond capacity. “Oooohs” and “Aaaahhs” are the sound effects generated as the Butafumeiro extends higher and higher toward the Cathedral’s ceiling.

The nerd in me begins to calculate its velocity (which is reported to reach 65 mph), as well as its trajectory, along with the torque and mechanical advantage of the pulley system and the 6 tirabolerios. Do they need 6 guys? What if they only had 4, would it not go so high or travel so far? What if they had 8, could they and have they hit the ceiling? What if there were only 2 really strong guys and not 6 older guys. Would the outcome be the same?…these are some of the many things I unconsciously ruminate upon as the Butafumeiro passes with a “Whooosh” overhead. Eventually, after it has reached the edges of the interior, the tirabolerios slowly reign in the Butafumeiro. With each pass it retreats back from whence it came, until it finally comes to rest adjacent the alter. The Butafumeiro is removed and Mass is ended…”go in Peace”. We filter out of the Cathedral to the Praza da Quintana which is now crowded with just arriving peregrinos in search of the Pilgrim Office (Oficina del Peregrino). Since we have already gotten our Compestella, we wonder if we had the same wide-eyed look upon entering Santiago as do they. With not much to do, but wander about, we peruse the shops laden with Camino “memorabilia”. We note that “siesta” time does not seem to be observed here. We find some items we consider purchasing, but hold off in order to “price check” said items at other shops. The price difference and selection between shops is negligible. This afternoon we have a decision to make. To walk to Finisterre or not. Paul wants to and it has been our loose plan from the beginning, but my foot still hurts and a massive rain storm is forecasted for the area we are headed. I am tired of being wet, but we hear that the route from Santiago to Finisterre is supposed to be the most beautiful route of the whole Camino, and that a “full” pilgrimage requires you to continue to “the end of the world” where you “shed” your previous life, in the form of removing your pilgrim clothing and burning it. A dip in the ocean completes the symbolism of the “cleansing” of your “sins”, previous life and/or way of living. Sue, Jerry and Dave plan on going to Finisterre as well, but they will take the bus. I do my best to entice Paul into a bus ride. But with most of our adventures, we like to take the ” less traveled ” route and increase the degree of difficulty, just for the challenge of it. In keeping with this ethos, I acquiesce and agree to walk with him to Finisterre… as far as my foot will take me, AND as long as he carries a portion of my pack weight to ease some of the stress off my foot. With that, we look for a NON-PILGRIM, breadless lunch, and plan our next morning’s egress from Santiago. We complete this momentous day “dining” on Tapas with Sue, Jerry and Dave. First “leg” down. Now to the “end of the world”.

Day 25 (30.2 K)
Santa Catalina – El Acebo

We find it funny that people get up early, rustle in their bags all ready to go and then sit in the bar (if the albergue serves food) and eat a whole breakfast.  We, on the other hand get up and get moving.  The morning is the best part of the day for us as we generally have the trail to ourselves. Today was the “big climb” that everyone has been fretting about to Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross) that tradition holds that peregrinos leave a stone or memento that represents a burden, heartache or a prayer for a loved one that you wish to leave at the cross.  It is a symbolic gesture.  We rise before day break (as usual) and walk out of town in the dark under the glimmer of a once full moon.  The brightest stars are still visible against the dark blue sky.  In the distance on the ridgeline lights blink where wind turbines live.  We walk alone in the quiet of the morning. 

This is our favorite part of the day.  On a “crowded” trail we have this time to ourselves and we relish this time. 

Today’s walk actually feels like a hike, rather than a walk from town to town.  We walk through terrain that reminded us of the Sierra Buttes and/or foothills of Central California.  We walk and talk, and trail delirium apparently has set in.  As we hunt for trail signs, which is anything yellow, we realize that frankly any signs of toilet paper are also a sure sign you are on the Camino.  The concept of “leave no trace” has not arrived in Spain.   We then began to wonder why toilet paper is white.  Is it because poop is brown?  What if poop was white?  Would toilet paper be brown?  And so went the morning. 

The trail, as it climbed, paralleled a paved road, or visa versa, and buses filled with tender footed “peregrinos” passed with ease.   Signs for taxi service, pepper the trail, we assume somewhat close to an upcoming road crossing, enticing you to “surrender” as it were, and call for a ride mid trail.  We imagine the call goes something like this:  ‘You have reached Luis’s taxi service.  If you are done walking, and know where you are at, press “1”;  If you are done walking and don’t know where you are at, press “2”;  If you are done walking and don’t want anybody to know, press “4”;  If you are not sure you are done walking, hang up, walk two more kilometers and call again.  Of course this would all be in Spanish, and when you press “0” for a live person, the call would drop.  Not that we begrudge anyone who takes the bus or a taxi during their Camino, it just seems odd (or maybe enterprising) to be advertising a taxi service in mid hike, even if it’s on an uphill climb.

When we finally reach Cruz de Ferro it is nothing like we thought it would be.  We knew that a road went up/by it, but we never thought the buses would park right next to it, or people would loiter atop it posing for pictures like they’ve climbed half dome or something.  The vibe was far from serene or reverent.  We rested a bit and moved on. 

From here was supposed to a steep descent, however there was yet another climb, followed of course by a seriously steep descent that our toes and my knee made sure to complain about.  Once we reached El Acebo, we checked into the municipal albergue who thankfully had beds left.  This albergue had no fee, but relies on donations to continue to operate.  They also serve a pilgrim’s dinner. We also ran into Dave who we have been leap frogging with for sometime. Dave’s from Canada, New Brunswick exactly…eh! His daughter hiked the PCT this past year and gave him her gear to use and a 5 minute hiking lecture before he left…most likely ending with the words “good luck”.

Our dinner was prepared by the volunteer, and the serving and dishes were done by the peregrinos.

This gave all 23 peregrinos a chance to meet each other and converse in broken languages. After dinner most people brushed their teeth and went to bed quickly as the water in this village is shut off at 9pm.

Buen Camino!..for now.
Be Strong! Austin Strong!

Day 23 (32k = 20 miles)
Leon – Villavante

Be careful what you wish for, because it may come true.  Flat is not necessarily the best. 

This past week from Burgos to Leon and our present location has been anything but exciting both in events (which is actually good considering our track record) and scenery.  Today wheat fields became cornfields that rustled in the light breeze that we were blessed with.  As with everyday before it, we went from pavement to dirt road/trail, to pavement and back again.  It was in many ways pleasant bit also tortuous.  We called it penance and wondered what we had done to deserve this.

As we walked we made some observations about Spain.
1.  All the property, whether it be a house, business,or even vacant lot is always boarded up like Fort Knox with fencing and alarms. No one has been able to explain why.
2.  Their parks, town picnic areas and rest stops have NO Restrooms, not even a port-o-potty.
3.  During daylight, it seems that the only things that are consistently open are the bars…which serve coffee, and beer (often in wine glasses, and both very good)
4.  There seems to be no real speed limit…or cops for that matter.
5.  At 0730 in the morning, and sometimes as late as 0900 you can walk down the middle of what should be a busy street.  Hell, you could lay in it!
6. Spain apparently has not gotten the memo that gluten is BAD for you, as bread (savory bread) is served at EVERY meal.
7. The interior of EVERY church we have been in is colorful and ornate.
8. We have NOT had a bad bottle of wine, even the 3€ or less wines (well with the exception of one…that we didn’t buy)
9. Everyone in Spain appears to be happy.
10. I think I could live here.

Buen Camino!
Be Strong! Austin Strong!

Day 24 (33k)
Villavante – Santa Catalina de Somosa

Every day we rise early with a new group of pilgrims. Everyone is half asleep yet we hustle to dress, organize our packs and do our morning bathroom routine. Then out in to the darkness we go. Today we seem to be on auto pilot as we wander out of Villavante. We are walking to the next village in search of a café con leche (coffee) and a some kind of food. It was cold (45°) so we were dressed in hats and gloves. Headlamps in the “on” position searching for the yellow arrows (also known as “yellow fever “) marking our Way. As we reach the end of town we turn onto the dirt trail and walk in the light of a full moon for the first 4k. The sun was rising and the full moon was still high above the western horizon.

As we entered Puente de Orbigo we crossed one of the longest and best preserved medieval bridges in Spain dating from the13th century.

A famous jousting event took place here in 1434. A knight scorned by a beautiful lady threw down the gauntlet and challenged all knights to a “dare” and pass over the bridge. He defeated 300 knights from all over Europe, thus restoring his honor. Once a year they hold a jousting event in his honor. Oh, how romantic!! These historical events are so interesting, and make us feel so young! After our morning coffee we moved along a bit quicker and traversed over some small hills and came upon an unusual bit of “trail magic”.

It appears that a Spainard named “David” and his Australian girlfriend “Susan” have been living in an abandoned adobe/stone ruin and have been treating peregrinos (at no cost as they will NOT accept any donations) to coffee, juice, assorted fruit and a wonderful place to rest your legs (or even stay if you wish) 24/7 for six years now. Absolutely incredible. Not sure how they pull this off, as they have no transportation and this is truly in the middle of nowhere.

Just before we arrive in Astorga, as we pose for pictures at what appears to be an iconic “stop”, we are beckoned by an older gentleman tending the trees surrounding this hilltop. He asks us where we are from. We tell him California. He grabs my hand and bring me over to a tree and points. ” Do you know what this is?”, he asks in a gravelly voice. Some type of pine we respond.

He laughs, and excitedly explains that it is from California, and is a Giant Sequoia sapling he planted last November (it is nearly 8′ tall now).

He shows us several other trees indigenous to California. He then asks how long we have been married, and if we are “true believers”. Turns out, he is a Catholic priest and gives us a blessing before he sends us on our way wishing us, ” Buen Camino “. Around noon we arrive in Astorga. As usual, the Camino leads to the town center and the church. Always on the highest point in the village. Known to us as “up hill”. This church was quite large and had an unusual figure on one of the roof tops. A woman with an umbrella. It was here that we saw our Auzzie friends Ruth and Neil about to enjoy a sandwich and a beer.  We took advantage of this opportunity to eat and catch up before heading to Santa Catalina de Somoza.

The afternoon was hot, but underneath our hiking umbrellas we stayed in the shade as we covered the last 12 k. We checked into the first albergue on the recommendation of the exhausted pilgrim sitting outside the front door. She told us the albergue was clean, comfortable, and only 5€. As has become our habit, we make our beds, shower, and get a “grande” cervaza! Today was no different, except we drank with Charleston.

Charleston is a Welshman from the U.K. with and accent as thick as a good chocolate shake. He uses words like “bloody” and “bloke”, and ends every sentence with “you know eh”, which we nod as to say …a ya sure. When in reality, we miss most of the words, but understand what he saying. He’s 51 years old and a bit round, but the happiest man with shin splints you will ever meet. We actually met him weeks ago just before Pamplona. He asked where we were from and Paul said the U.K., but he scoffed at the the notion, and we all laughed. So when we saw each other again we had to catch up on our travels. He has been walking and taking the bus a bit. Turns out that we have met some of the same pilgrims along the way. Three hours of laughing, eating dinner, and consuming beer together, made for a great evening.

Buen Camino!
Be Strong! Austin Strong!

Day 22 (20 K)
Mansilla de los Mulas – Leon

As is customary, we walk to coffee.  Sometimes it’s 3K, other times it’s 6 or more.  Today it is 6K before we come to our first chance at coffee.  We have our café con leche in Puente Villarente and move on.  The only problem is that about 2K later we realize that we forgot to pay.  We still have not gotten the hang of going back up to the bar and paying after having consumed all our goods.  There is no waiter or waitress to give you your bill.  Once we confirm that neither of us had paid, as we had assumes each other had done, we promptly turn around and head back to the bar to settle our debt.  As we walk “against” peregrino “traffic” we get perplexed looks, especially from the people who were at the bar when we were.  When we enter the bar, the proprietor ask us “what’s wrong?” (In Spanish of course). We respond that we left without paying our bill and came back to pay it.  The proprietor showed definite shock, smiled, and then laughed… “Vole” (okay).  We paid and retraced our steps, and after an uneventful and semi-pleasant walk, entered the city of Leon.  This city is huge and a bit intimidating after being in the “country” for so long.  It is Saturday and this place is hopping.  Cars whiz by and people crowd the streets. 

A cultural dance festival is going on. A farmer’s market is going on at the Cathedral plaza. A medieval faire is going on at another plaza, and weddings are going on at about every church.

We check into our albergue, run by nuns and set off to find Sue and Jerry before they catch their train to Sarria.  Finding them was like playing ‘Marco polo’, but via text, which increased the degree of difficulty.  As we finally locate them near the Cathedral, with a 1000 other people, who should appear but Maureen!  (Karen and Krystal also turned up as well, having last seen them in Burgos.) We grab a quick bite with Sue and Jerry (Maureen as well) and catch up on travel stories.  Sue and Jerry have spent 4 days in Leon as Sue was sick so they were fairly familiar with the city. 

I, on the other hand, found the city (while beautiful) too busy for me, and I find that crowds make me cranky and uneasy, so we will only sleep here tonight and move on in the morning.

Buen Camino!
Be Strong!  Austin Strong!

Day 21
Hermanillos de la Calzada – Mansilla de los Mulas

We awake to singing, as advised and promised, and ready for our day’s trek.  Our plan is to continue the “less traveled” route, but somehow we got waylaid and found ourselves in Reliegos, but not after passing sections of the Romano road that have been cordoned off for preservation purposes.


The trail we tread also had a curious phenomenon with purple flowers pushing out of the rocky red clay soil oblivious to threat of being trampled.

Neither of us complained about the wrong turn and only thought about turning around and figuring out where we went wrong for about a nano second as we sipped our café con leches at the first café we spotted.

This town was interesting for as we entered the outskirts of town we saw homes burrowed into the hillsides, like hobbit homes.

Once caffeinated, we make our way to Mansilla de los Mulas.  Where the Romano route and the Frances route converge, we run into an Australian couple (Ruth and Neil) who we have been leapfrogging with for nearly two weeks.  (They are retired from the Australian Police and have been traveling the world.  Ruth retired out many years ago on a back injury, and frankly it’s a miracle she is walking the Camino.  The irony is that recently (a week ago now…remember I am behind a week) she had an infected blister that sidelined her for a bit.  Neil is a recent cancer survivor, who according to his original prognosis should not be alive, let alone walking 20+ kilometers a day.).

We walk and talk all the way into the municiple albergue.  We asked how their Frances route was.  They said it was flat and monotonous, so much so that Ruth counted paces between the trees as they paralleled the highway. Upon settling in at the albergue, a shower and brief nap, we set out to explore the city and walked out beyond its walls.

At one time this entire city was walled in, and portions of the grand wall remain fully intact and can be seen from the river bridge just outside the city.

Just outside the city as well is a “swimming hole” we considered for a brief moment, but then reconsidered once we examined the water quality.  After our walkabout, we joined Ruth and Neil for an “early ” dinner and early night.

Buen Camino!
Be Strong! Austin Strong!

Day 20
Terradillos de los Templarios – Calzadar de los Hermanillos

After an early start and a monotonous trek on a thread of gravel paralleling the highway to Sahagún, we make a sharp right turn (with the city in our sights), eventually cross a small Romanesque bridge and come across a Knights Templar church, that appears well preserved.

From there we snake through Sahagún, grab lunch to go and decide to take the road less traveled.

Who wouldn’t want to walk a 2000 year old road?  The same road the Romans made and traveled by Ceasar Augustus, Charlemagne, and countless peregrinos.

At some point in the early afternoon we found ourselves completely alone.  No one ahead.  No one behind for as far as the eye could see.  It’s a treat but also a little disconcerting.

We must be the only “crazy” ones to take the longer route nearly devoid of any shade except that which we provide for ourselves via our umbrellas.  Rolling fields of wheat sprinkled with sparse groves of oak trees are our company for several kilometers.  We lunch under the shade of an oak a bit off the trail with swarms of flies for our company.  Later we pass a vacant swimming pool, that begs to tell a story.

It is here we notice we are not alone, more “crazies” are headed our way.  We just are in the lead.  As we walk we meet up with a Canadian couple we have been running into for quite some time.  We walk and talk all the way into Calzadar de los Hermanillos that for the most part thankfully appears out if nowhere.  The private albergue that the Canadians have made prior reservations at is “completo”, so we move on hoping that the only other option, the municiple albergue is NOT “completo”.  Thankfully it is not, and we are treated to the memorable stay of our trip to date.  Had there not been room, I was not beneath asking the old woman who was seated in her rocking chair on a yard filled with beautiful green grass and a large German Sheppard if we could sleep on her lawn.  However, there was no need to ask.  Once checked into the albergue, that survives on donations we found the volunteer hospitalier, Alphonso from Italy, the best host we have had.  He was most engaging, and quite funny.  He truly enjoyed and embraced his job.  The only thing I thought odd, was that we were required to place our backpacks in “used ” large garbage bags before we brought them into the albergue.  This was to guard against the potential for bed bugs.  My only thought was, didn’t reusing the trash bags defeat the purpose?  Oh well…
After a dinner of a left over sandwich and some crushes oreos, Alphonso had organized a “talent show” of sorts to showcase one our fellow peregrinos, a Finnish woman who sings like an angel.

She will sing, only if others will sing as well…it doesn’t have to be good, and compared to her, its not…but entertaining all the same.  I croak (I have a cold now) out a lullaby that I used to sing to my kids, and Paul thanks me for taking one for the “team”.  Alphonso sings a few, as he is not shy, and others participate as well.  Once 10 pm rolls around, it is time for us to squeeze into our bunks for lights out.  Poor Gary from Colorado is 6’4″ and must sleep in the fetal position.  Soon the snore-fest begins, and I join them in no time after a hearty dose of cold medicine.

Buen Camino!
Be Strong!  Austin Strong!

Day 19 (27 KM)

Carrión de los Condes – Terradillos de los Templarios

The sunrise behind us was stellar, but the line of “walkers” was eerie.

For some reason today, even though it was seriously flat (not “Jerry flat”) ground us down.  A stop at the 1/2 way mark and running into Maureen…again, was a serious pick me up.  By then we we had done 17K, so 10K more “shouldn’t” be so bad especially if we added walking sticks and some serious audio “heroin”.

With 2moremiles left (which equals 3.4K) the town of Lédigos appeared, and with it a local bar.  It is here we had a quick and refreshing beer and charged to our planned stopping point, where hopefully there would be “room at the inn”, as we have taken to not making  reservations, and are going with the “flow”.  When we got to the albergue, we were the last ones to get beds, and the people who just walked up behind us were sent packing.  Divine providence, once again.

Now here is a “coincidence “.  When we arrived and we headed to our room, young gal remarked to Paul, “nice shoes”, referring to his “clown shoes “, the Altras. The new Columbia shoes he bought in Pamplona have broken down.  Luckily he continued to carry his Altras from there…just in case.  Then in the room she remarked about my pack, as she has the same one.  I asked her where  she was from that she would recognize Paul’s shoes and my pack.  “Oregon”, was the reply.  Well that explains everything.  I asked if if she has done the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT).  ” No, but my husband has.  In fact he’s Craig, of Craig’s PCT planner.” Hey we used Craig’s PCT planner, and the world shrinks once more.  Even more interesting we discovered that she had been reading our blog and wondered if she would run into us.  Yet again the universe (aka. God) has a way of making things happen.  Her (Corra’s) feet were pretty trashed and I did my best to help her remedy her feet and shared my KT tape.  More and more the journey is about the people you meet and intersect with.  The walk is just the vehicle to get you there.

Buen Camino!
Be Strong!  Austin Strong!

Day 18 (20.5 km)
Frómista – Carrión de los Condes

Today’s walk seemed long and arduous, even though it was a mere 12.7 miles.  It was devoid of much in the way of flora and fauna.  If you have a lot of thinking to do, this would be the stretch (Burgos – Leon) to do it, or better yet, rent a bike and get through it in a more pleasant manner.  We walk along a gravel trail that parallels a main highway, which makes sense seeing as the Camino was a main trade route connecting each city/village from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.  And so far we have not been to a city/village that St. James did not want to stop in, and I can see why.  They each have their own charm and spirit.

Along the way we have seen road signs indicating “deer crossing”, but we have yet to have spied one (and we’re pretty good at it).  We are beginning to think that the sighting of deer is akin to seeing ” Bigfoot” in our  Northwest.  There is so much grazing land with the wheat, clover and alfalfa fields, we are perplexed as to why we haven’t seen any deer as of yet.  It does, however, give us something to do all morning as we plod along with the sun slowly rising at our backs.  Occasionally a reaper or tractor rattles down the road toward us breaking the monotony of our cadence and giving us pause to step off the trail and wave at a new face.

Tonight we stay at Albergue Espiritu Santo, which is run by nuns and appears to be an old parochial school.  When we are greeted, we are told that the pilgrim mass is at 8pm, and get the “message” (as only sister could convey) that we shouldn’t miss it.  Sister was right.  Whom should we see on our way to mass, but Maureen!  This girl seems to pop up on a regular basis.  A joyous reunion ensued. The pilgrim’s mass at Santa Maria del Camino is truly one NOT to be missed.  I don’t know how to explain it, except I have never felt so much love and peace as I did that evening.  It appeared that I was not the only one who had the same experience.  Tears of what can only be described as joy leaked from many an eye.  A special blessing and a gift from the sisters (a hand crafted star to remind us of the light and infinite love of God) were given to all the pilgrims.  At the end of the blessing, we were directed to a statue of Mary and told that for over 800 years, peregrinos such as us have been coming to this church lighting a candle and praying before her.  Holy Shit!  The look on everyone’s face (mine included), was in fact…Holy Shit!  800 years!  That is a lot of people.  It really puts this journey in perspective, its significance and how lucky we are to have this opportunity to walk this path.  I wish I had a time machine, like Bill & Ted (you know Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure… the movie.). I have so many questions.

Buen Camino!
Be Strong! Austin Strong!

Life Coach

Day 17 (37.6 K = 23 miles)
Hontanas – Frómista

Today’s route was flat and uneventful.

We had a “big” climb out of Castrojeriz (a town we would have liked to have stayed in…they have a castle on a hill) to the top of Alto Mostelares (900m),

and down (of course) to a plateau of farm fields as far as the eye could see.   Today we travelled with music and sang poorly at the top of our lungs.  As we listened to Jake Bugg while  crossing a bridge, a cyclist came up behind us and asked (in an American accent) if we were playing country music.  From here the conversation took us into the next town for a bite of lunch and an icy cold beer to wash away the dusty hot road we have been traveling.  The cyclist, Doug, was from Colorado and on a “whim” decided to bike the Camino.  He is an accomplished mountain bikers, and a once successful financial advisor, turned “life coach”.  We talked of life and what defines happinesses and/or fulfillment.  We agreed that perception and contact with positive people are important ingredients for a happy, fulfilled, life.  Doug seemed to think we had our stuff together pretty well, as was generally impressed that we had been able to retire so “young”.  We told him that we have been blessed with good fortune.  After a leisurely lunch, we parted ways and wished each other Buen Camino.  We trudged onward in the heat, but the Camino saved the best for last as our last 6km were a feast for sore eyes and feet.

We were blessed with shade and a ribbon of water guided us to our afternoon’s destination.

Buen Camino!
Be Strong!  Austin Strong!