The Camino turns every town into your college campus; you walk into the central square and you see people you know. It’s the most wonderful feeling.
And there are always surprises. Today I walked around Burgos (slowly, because of my sore ankle) and as I descended the staircase by the Cathedral, I saw Taylor sitting in a cafe.
Taylor was the first person I met on the Camino, climbing up out of San Jean, in France. He is about Colby’s age, wears a straw cowboy hat, and has a prayer shawl, made by his mother, that he uses as a pillow. Sweet guy. I assumed he was way ahead of me with the other 20-somethings. He said he was slowing down to enjoy each place.
We compared notes about where we’d been, and he consulted his staff with the name of every night’s stop carved into it. That was new since I’d last seen him. It’s tempting to buy one of those wooden staves, but I love my trekking poles.
We caught up a bit more and then, instead of plopping down next to him at the table, I sensed that we both wanted to be alone, and said “Buen Camino”, knowing that we will most probably see each other again up ahead.
One Footestep at a Time 
Had dinner tonight with HC&H, including a wonderful slideshow of your voyage through southern France, INCLUDING the video of you walking down the road at the start of your Camino. Talk about getting choked up!!
And yes, asked Hale about the Quies, and he said they were no match for the snoring. Shoot… But very glad to hear (from him and now you) about the albergue con hielo; hope it’s helped get the strain under control.
Look forward to the next update…
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Finally signing in so I can leave comments…
I am so so sorry about your ankle! All part of the path, I guess; who knows what different adventures you’ll have by being forced to slow down for a while.
I literally can’t read your posts without getting choked up, to one degree or another, for one reason or another. Spain and adventure and friendship and slow movement across the surface of the planet. (I keep thinking, “I’m so proud of her,” but it always strikes me as weird to say you’re proud of another person, unless he or she is your offspring. Happy for you I guess. Impressed. But more than that.)
Were you unable to find Quies?
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Hi Lydia! Good to hear from you! The ankle is slightly better this morning, but not trek worthy. I found some ice in the freezer at the lovely Albergue last night and it seemed to help. I think it is just strain, not sprain, from overuse. I’m waiting in the albergue where there is wi-fi to take a bus to Leon and rest by myself for a couple of days, and maybe see someone medical. Funny you say that you get choked up because I’m continually finding myself in tears, of
joy, mostly. the Camino shows you places you would never choose—and they are all beautiful in their own way.
This experience is teaching me so much, and maybe also, that I have all the tools I need already. Or something like that!
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Oh, I did buy the Quies, and im sure theyre good, but have found that nothing really works in regards to snoring. As the guy at Roncevalles said, “Snoring is part of the Camino.” Cheers to that! Off to get coffee.
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Hale, the reference probably comes from subconscious recollection of brotherly strikings on Avenue C with objects leaving identifiable imprinted marks. Next week in Alexandria looks doubtful for me. No word about the meeting in Houston yet.
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George, “word-bruise” is an image I am going to play with for awhile. See you in Alexandria next week?
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Loving your photos of church interiors! Didn’t know much about Spanish High Gothic and am finding it surprisingly lacy, light and almost frivolous ;-), not traits I’d associated with Spanish architecture.
Spanish Baroque, meanwhile, makes me think of pastry bag decorations, too heavily applied and well, pendulous. Not an attractive image, :^( sorry.
Keep resting that ankle & hope it’s better soon.
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Carving places stopped into a walking staff is great imagery and food for thought. Do you create a relic on a pilgrimage? What happens when you stop so often that you run out of room on the stick for more carvings? Do you have to keep walking all night to avoid using up precious name-space? Do you plan to whittle it down to a toothpick for a final banquet? If you need to make a fire, do you carve a little deeper for more shavings? Will a mugger whacked with the well-carved stick be obligated to show the word-bruise as evidence? Fortunately, the stick becomes lighter as you become more tired, but the carving weakens it as you need it more on a long trek. Or maybe you grow stronger as the stick grows weaker and it becomes less a physical support and more a spiritual totem. Maybe I need to get back to work. Love your notes, Beth. Stopping the billable clock to read and think about them is like having mental trekking poles.
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such an uncle!! Mom you are a rockstar, miss and love you all of the days.
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Hello from a place called Carrion de Los Condes. Elevating my ankle on my snug lower bunk.
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