Posts Tagged With: Favorite Albergues

Walking into Burgos, 2.5k plus 9k taxi ride and 8.2k

The next morning in Ages, the lobby of the Albergue was stuffed with luggage for Jacotrans and the other services to pick up. Somehow, I ended up being one of the last people to leave. My boots were the last ones on the rack.

Getting started at 8:30, late for pilgrims

Lila, the Danish woman and I started out walking together. It was a glorious morning with sun, blue sky, and the Camino took us past charming half-timbered houses.

Half-timbered house in Ages

There was a circle of stones off to the left of the road, and I wanted to see what they were. They reminded me of the stones at the top of Alto de Perdon that were a Civil War monument. At that moment I realized that both Lila and I were both used to walking at our own pace, and I am a habitual reader of signs, plaques, and lover of views. I stop a lot. I sensed Lila was ready to make better time. I was also in search of coffee because I left Ages without having breakfast. When we got to the next village I said I was stopping for coffee and she said she could wait longer. We said, “Buen Camino,” and she walked ahead.

Circle of stones
Entering Atepuerca

My itinerary was getting a bit squished. I wanted to be in Burgos around 5:00 to meet Hale at the bus station, and I had 23k to walk. I also didn’t want to be thrashed when he arrived. Having walked into cities before, I knew how tough the kilometers on pavement could be on your feet. I wanted to walk into Burgos along the river but I wanted to avoid the next 10k or so through the industrial outskirts.

So, I asked the bar in Atapuerca to call for a taxi. I calculated that if I skipped to Costanones, I could pick up the river path and have a scenic 10k walk. I realized that we’d called for a taxi in 2013 at the same cafe, which felt a little like Deja-vu.

The taxi driver arrived and we sped off down the two lane road, then got on the motorway and then took several turns off it into roundabouts. As the crow flies it’s not that far from Burgos so the roads were built for suburban traffic.

The Camino’s approach into Burgos is complicated. There’s a path that follows the road, and two other paths that hug the beautiful shallow river that runs through Burgos. I definitely wanted to try one of those, but the description in the guidebook looked confusing. You know it’s confusing when the guidebook says, “Stop! Focus!”

Fortunately, my dashing taxi driver knew where to go. He let me out where an industrial park met the river path. I was immediately in a greenway, but the signage was somewhat lacking. There were yellow arrows every once in awhile but not many.

But it didn’t seem to matter because the river was on my right, and the path was well-defined. I saw two pilgrim up ahead of me, so I tried to keep them in sight.

Finding the river route into Burgos

It did seem like my days of walking had sped by too fast. In some ways I was just getting in the groove, and wouldn’t it be fun to keep going? At the same time, I was looking forward to seeing Hale and showing him beautiful Burgos.

So I strolled along taking my time and enjoying the river route. Whenever I stopped to recalibrate my route, a jogger would cry out, “Camino!” Pointing me the right way.

After awhile the path became paved, and then became a wide sidewalk along the river. There were lots of residents of all ages out strolling with friends, or getting exercise, or pushing elderly people in wheelchairs and babies in strollers. Every once in awhile there was access to the dirt path closer to the river and I took advantage of it, to walk under the weeping willow trees.

Elegant sycamores

I paused for awhile on a park bench and tried to gather my thoughts before entering town.

I didn’t have any grand summations on the last 12 days. I did feel a sense of gratitude for the time to walk and finding that sense of timelessness again along the Camino that felt grounding to me. Seeing the churches and art gave me joy. I love the human scale of the villages, the narrow streets. I love meeting people from all over the world, drawn to walk in a common direction.

I also felt grateful to be healthy and strong enough to walk the Camino again. My broken wrist, surgery, and osteoporosis diagnosis two years ago had made me anxious about doing another Camino. Was it such a good idea to wear a full-sized pack? I don’t know, but maybe it’s helped my spinal bone density numbers. I haven’t had any back issues. The only side effect of walking has been heat rash on longer stretches. And yeah, no blisters!

As I sat there I gave thanks for not falling, and for no injuries, and not getting sick. As always, I felt a deep sense of safety on the Camino, and a sense of faith in humanity. Trust. With all that’s happening in the US, I needed that. It’s been healing.

Gate into old Burgos

I crossed the river and passed through the old gate into central Burgos. It reminded me of the gate in Canterbury, but much bigger and in better shape. Once through the gate, the Cathedral appears, massive and towering at the same time. It’s one of my most favorite cathedrals, a work of art, full of art.

It felt a bit like coming home. This was the third time I’ve been there, and I remembered how to get around the old part of the city. Now it was time to find Hotel Notre y Londres and rest before meeting Hale at the bus station.

Categories: Camino de Santiago, Pilgrimage | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Taxi to Villafranca Montes de Oca, walk to Ages, 15.8k

At 7:15 I was outside the hotel with my bag, and met the cheery Jacotrans driver, who quickly took my bag, backed down the short little street, and disappeared around the corner.

I regretted telling the taxi to come at 9:30 since it would make my walk from Villafranca start pretty late, but it did give me time to find breakfast.

My taxi driver Dani showed up early and he invited me to sit in the front seat. We had a typical Camino Spanish learner meets English learner conversation as we sped up the A12 carretera named after the Camino de Santiago.

As we drove, he pointed out places where we could see the Camino from the road, and we passed by places I remembered from before: Santo Domingo de Calzada, Belorado, Tosantos, all while showing me photos on his phone. He had a new baby who was baptized in the famous church in Navarrete but somehow I didn’t recognize the town he described. “You must know it,” he said. Then it dawned on me he was pronouncing Navarrete correctly in Spanish! NaVARaTEE. Putting the emphasis on the ETTE like I’d always done was incorrect. Oh! My pronunciation got a good-hearted laugh.

Before long we were exiting at Villafranca Monte’s de Oca, where I wanted to start walking. He dropped me off up near the church and hotel where the path starts uphill into the forest. Having walked the Camino three times, once with his pregnant wife, he knew the spot.

I’d been harboring some anxiety about taking a taxi, and feeling less pilgrim-like because of it, but I’d enjoyed the ride and conversation with Dani. The Camino Magic turns up in unexpected ways.

Taxi Driver Dani

I got to my jumping off place at 10:00 and there were a ton of pilgrims heading up the hill with me. I felt very much a part of the great pilgrim stream.

The path there is like a fire road that goes up into pine woods that at times reminded me of Tahoe.

It’s a 13k stretch with no services until the small village of San Juan de Ortega. In the Middle Ages this area was considered dangerous because it was the perfect place for bandits.

The sky was blue, there was a breeze, it was really nice hiking weather. Part of the reason I chose this place to rejoin the Camino went back to my 2013 walk.

Starting the hike towards San Juan de Ortega

This was where my ankle tendinitis kicked in on my first Camino. I limped into San Juan de Ortega, and my Camino was pretty much over after that. I was drawn to walk this segment again and heal that memory somehow.

The Camino went up and down

About 4k into the walk is a memorial to 300 people who were massacred and buried at that spot in 1936 by Franco’s fascist forces.

Schematic of mass grave

It looked like there had been archaeological work done on the site in the last few years, documenting how the bodies were buried, and then they were reburied in Villafranca de la Oca. I’d read how people in Spain were looking for missing relatives and asking questions about the Civil War. Mass graves like this were being found many places.

In 2013 I saw the site as a sobering relic of history, but seeing it again in 2025 it was much more relatable to our current times. How easily we too could slip into fascism and violence in our divided, well-armed country.

The path went on through the woods and I was enjoying the physicality of the walk. My fitness level was finally advancing just as I was getting towards the end of my mini-Camino. I’d forgotten how automatic walking became after walking for a week or so. It’s like your legs just know what to do and you don’t need to think about it, and your heart and lungs and legs are in synch.

Rock arrows

I fell into conversation with a couple from Boise who had Southern California roots. Jim and Sheri. We walked the next 5-6 k together talking about life until they said they needed to pick up their pace.

Finally, the path started descending slightly and I saw San Juan de Ortega coming into view. I’d made it without an injury. For some reason, that felt fulfilling to me.

San Juan de Ortega “city limits“

San Juan de Ortega is a tiny place, the medieval church with the shrine of the saint, the old monastery hostel, and a bar. But since 2013 things had improved! There was a whole new albergue, with a bar, a Casa Rural, and the monastery albergue looked much cleaner from the outside. I visited the shrine and gave thanks for healing and for the new pilgrim infrastructure. The saint, San Juan de Ortega, would approve. He was a major builder along the medieval Camino, and did everything he could to serve the pilgrims walking to Santiago,

I sat down at the outdoor tables to have lunch and ended up eating with Jim and Sheri. I’d caught up with them after all.

San Juan de Ortega

It was 3:00 by the time I finished lunch and put my boots back on. I had 4k more to go to my albergue in Ages.

It felt like a milestone to walk away from San Juan de Ortega, healthy and strong. The walk was flat and green for the next couple of hours, like English countryside in some ways.

Heading towards Ages
Horses grazing on the Camino
Cows, too

It was an easy few kilometers even though I felt my legs getting red, hot and itchy again with heat rash. The Creepers merino toe socks I’m wearing this time have been fantastic—no blisters—but maybe they are too hot.

Coming into Ages, a beautiful village

Ages was my destination for the evening, within striking distance of Burgos in the morning. It turned out to be a beautiful village with lots of half-timbered houses. I stayed at El Pajar, my last albergue of the trip.

Since I got there late in the afternoon I had the last lower bunk bed in a room for eight. Mostly Germans about my age, it seemed. I stretched out for awhile and put my legs up.

Next to me was a very nice Danish woman about my age. On the upper bunk was a younger German guy with many tattoos. He volunteered that he didn’t have a permanent home in Germany, but was living from albergue to albergue along the Camino. Hmm.

The room was pretty crowded with everyone’s stuff so I put my duffle bag away in the locker and took my valuables to the shower with me. Afterwards, I took a stroll around the village before dinner.

Cute inn next door to albergue
Albergue El Pajar
Room at El Pajar with my separate bed
Active stork nest in Ages

The church was open! Shocking! An elderly woman held down the fort and asked for 1€ to support repairs of the large cracks in the ceiling. I was happy to contribute. the church was 16th century like the much of the village.

It’s not often that you see an active stork nest so close up. I sat on a medieval stone bench and watched one of the storks come and go.

The Inn next door to the albergue was serving dinner, so I found a seat inside, and the nice Danish woman joined me. I really enjoyed our conversation. She was surprised I’d been to Bornholm. She went there for short weekend trips. I told her about Grandpa Ted immigrating to San Francisco in 1911 and she said, “We were a poor country then. Many people immigrated to California at that time.”

The dinner was so flavorful. I had a bean soup and fish. The couple who ran the place were working hard serving everyone, and they bickered the whole time.

Everyone settled down to sleep pretty early and one guy across the room was really cutting wood. I had my earbuds ready, but then I think I fell asleep and somehow slept through until morning.

Categories: Camino de Santiago, Favorite Albergues | Tags: , | Leave a comment

Estella to Villamayor de Monjardin, 10k

I was in a funky mood when I woke up. When I was putting my boots on in the lobby, I saw Musk and DJT on Spanish TV news and it was upsetting. I might have sworn out loud. It was time to walk.

I left Estella around 7:30 and walked (without coffee) for about an hour. I stopped at a busy cafe in the suburbs connected to a hotel where lot of pilgrims were eating breakfast in the hotel dining room. They seemed to be on an organized walking trip. They looked so relaxed and the women looked so put together. Their van was leaving with their luggage. It read, “Camino fácil” aka “easy Camino.”

My inner critic was giving me a hard time, like why aren’t you doing this the fácil way? Why are you making this so difícil? Why do you look so…Ugh. I felt a little better after an Americano and a tosta with jamón y tomate.

But my inner critic kept after me and I realized this is the perfect time to say hello, inner critic, what do you want?

Coffee Americano was indicated

Fortunately, once I got started my inner critic went back to their cave. I walked on and arrived at the famous Bodega de Irache and its wine fountain right when it opened at 9:00.

I’d missed this back in 2013 when I took the bus to Los Arcos bypassing this section of the Camino. There was quite a scrum of pilgrims waiting their turn at the fountain. A Japanese Camino tour group was in front of me and their guide gave them each a paper cup. I unhooked my shell, and poured myself a sip. It wasn’t great wine but the whole exercise was fun.

Bodega Irache wine fountain
What Camino shells are for?

I realized that my funky mood was probably old emotions bubbling up as they usually do on the Camino. I had been so focused on just physically getting through the day on the trail that I hadn’t had room for any of those moments of emotional processing. Now I was finally feeling more fit, even though the uphill segments were still slowing me way down.

An hour or so after the wine fountain the trail went through an area of beautiful green forest and wheat fields. Off in the distance was a dramatic ridge of cliffs. It was quiet and I felt unexpected joy in walking and just being there.

Sky and cliffs

The beauty continued. The next village Azqueta was cute, and had an open bar with tables outside. I stopped for an Aquarius and a small flatbread pizza. There were some nice pilgrims there, and there was easy conversation about the cost of living, Tesla, and the Camino. The owner was French and had one of those romantic Camino stories. While walking the Camino he met the owner of the local albergue, fell in love, and bought the abandoned bar, and left his corporate job for life in a small village.

As I sat there I noticed that a flock of sheep were huddled next to the building. It was one of those fun, unexpected moments of surprise and delight.

Sheep posing for me

It was a pretty short day. I was going halfway to Los Arcos, staying at Villamayor de Monjardín at Albergue Oasis Trails.

I got there early in the afternoon and had a long, relaxed time sitting on the terrace with the hospitaderos and other guests in the warm sun before dinner at 7 pm.

I enjoyed talking to the lead host, a young Dutch woman who moved there with her parents. The albergue is run by an evangelical Dutch group and I was wondering how that would play out over the course of the evening.

She told me about living in the village, going to school in Estella, and how it was hard to get to know people if you were a foreigner.

I started talking with a fellow guest, a 40 ish year old guy from the Netherlands. His English was excellent and I found myself talking about American politics. I should have noticed a red flag when he asked how bad San Francisco was with all the drugs and homelessness. It was a classic case of mansplaining me about how I should support the current regime since they’d won the election and it was the other side of the coin from Obama. Hmmm. I don’t think so.

Dinner was good, served family style, and afterwards we were invited to a meditation service. I decided to go. I was glad I did. We sat on the floor with blankets around us while the host read a gospel passage and meditative music played. Then there was a “talking stick” exercise. Several guys only spoke French but that was ok.

I visited with the hosts after and they asked to pray for me. What’s in your heart on your Camino, they asked. Good question. Maybe what’s God calling me to do next?

I had the one private room in that ancient house, way up under the eaves. I drifted off to sleep looking forward to walking to Los Arcos, one of my favorite places on the Camino, the next day,

Cozy private room at albergue
Categories: Camino de Santiago | Tags: , , | 2 Comments

Estella rest day

I woke up with the calming white noise sound of the river coming through the window. I saw a text that Hale at home wanted to chat. It was still last night for him. We agreed to talk in 45 minutes when everyone else in the room was up.

I got dressed and we had a good FaceTime chat, me well-rested while he was yawning and ready for bed. It was good to see his face after almost a week apart.

Even though I’d done laundry in Obanos, my wardrobe is limited, so it was time for some laundry again.

European washing machine with international instructions
Scenic drying area

I decided to brave using the washing machine and tried to make sure it was cold water only since I have lots of merino wool socks and ropa interior. (It’s great by the way! Who knew wool underwear was comfortable!)

I drove myself a little crazy watching the lights go on next to what looked like symbol for hot water, but it all came out ok and I hung it up to dry on a rack in this scenic spot just outside the albergue.

Once that was done, it was time to enjoy my rest day in Estella. I walked down into town again and ran into Linda and Mark who I’d met in Cirauqui, walking through town on the Camino. They were skipping Estella and staying farther along. It was my favorite kind of Camino moment.

We shared contact info and they also shared some lambswool for my developing blister. Wearing my crocs was helping it settle down, but I was grateful for the gift.

We said our Buen Caminos, and I peeled off to see all the churches in Estella, which I’ve read about in my trusty guidebooks.

Estella is built into a gorge with rocky peaks all around the touch the edges of the old town. The way it was as organized around a river and hills reminded me of Cincinnati. All of the churches I wanted to see were built elevated way above street level. The first one was San Pedro de Rua.

San Pedro de Rua
St. James the Pilgrim

Another nice examples of Santiago the Pilgrim and a prayer to go with it. The cloister was unique, set into the hill.

After climbing all those stairs, I left the church at the top of the hill and noticed that the city had built a free-standing glass elevator. I took advantage of it since the prospect of going down all those stairs without a handrail and without my poles was stressing me out.

I walked across the river and into the heart of the medieval town to find Iglesia de San Miguel. It was also way up on a rocky crag.

Stairs to Iglesia de San Miguel

Once up there, I found the best part: the art around the entry. Truly worth the climb!

There were so many identifiable biblical scenes:

Mary and Elizabeth greeting each other
Animals greeting the baby Jesus in the manger
Mary Magdalene and women coming to the empty tomb at Easter
St. George and the Dragon

And there were some more unusual carvings, too.

What my guidebook says is a woman breastfeeding two snakes, a positive image in pre-Christian folklore but frowned upon after 12th century
This looks like a man and a mermaid (symbol of temptation) to me
And a sweet, angelic thurifer

The church itself wasn’t that interesting on the inside. The terrace had another ancient olive tree growing out of the rock.

Olive Tree with shadows

After contemplating the entryway sculpture again, I wandered out into the street on the upside of the church to find some lunch.

I was noticing that Estella was quite a diverse town. I saw lots of women in headscarves, and I also ran across a tienda with Mexican products. I’d read that since the Middle Ages Estella was known for its Jewish, Muslim, and French population.

After a slice of tortilla for lunch, I ventured on to see the Basilica of Our Lady of Puy. The guidebook said it was on a hill overlooking the city and they weren’t kidding. About half way up, I thought, “why am I doing this?” It was like climbing Telegraph Hill in San Francisco, but on a hot day.

I sat on the side of the road and rested for a minute. What happened to my rest day? I was up to 10,000 steps already.

When I got to the top I found the basilica open. It was built in the 1950’s where a much older structure had disintegrated.

In 1085 shepherds reported seeing stars falling over the hill in front of the mouth of a cave. When they went inside, they found the statue of the Virgen there, in the cave. It’s a similar story to the Virgen in Nájera, one of my favorite spots on the Camino.

These Black Madonna stories fascinate me, so I had to see it.

No one was there so I had the place to myself. The people of Estella decided to honor their multi-faith heritage when the new structure was designed, so it has a Moorish feel and incorporates the symbol of Estella the Mudejar eight pointed star.

Ceiling of the Basilica Nuestra Señora de Puy

I’m confused whether this is the original statue because my excellent guidebook, The Moon Camino de Santiago by Beene Bahrain, says the original one is at the back of the church, but I didn’t see any statue there, just the one over the altar. She does seem to glow. She has the image of the moon under her feet much like Our Lady of Guadeloupe in Mexico.

Nuestra Señora del Puy

My so called rest day continued with a careful walk down the hill just as hundreds of high school students exited the two secondary schools which are also up there on the hill. I returned to the albergue and met the new women in the room, a very fastidious woman from Korea, and a Spanish woman named Toni. I took a siesta nap, and headed out for an early dinner.

Estella was a good place for a rest day, though I did miss walking. When I set up my itinerary I thought I would be more tired than I was. But I enjoyed seeing more of Estella.

With newly clean clothes, I packed up for my next stop in the morning, Villamayor de Monjardin, about 12k up the road.

Categories: Camino de Santiago, Camino Guidebooks | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Obanos to Cirauqui, 10k

I said my good-byes to Elena, the world’s warmest host, and walked out of Obonos towards Puente La Reina. My destination was Cirauqui, 14k away.


Obanos seemed to be very prosperous, with lots of new houses, some of them substantial! I didn’t remember Obanos being that big in 2013.

In less than an hour, I entered Puente La Reina. The first thing you see on the outskirts of town is Hotel Jakue. That’s where I stayed with my Camino buddies in 2013. It has something for everybody: a hotel and an albergue, and private albergue rooms. I remember pilgrim dinner being fun and my friends kidded me for “working the room.” I’d just left my position as associate rector, so I was used to circulating on purpose. It was fun to see it again.

There were two artistic treasures I wanted to see in town, the Y-shaped crucifix and the Black Madonna. The crucifix was in the first church walking into town.

Y-shaped crucifix in Puente La Reina

The crucifix is thought to have been donated by a German pilgrim when the second nave was built in the 14th century. Some think it has a connection to the Knights Templar. Its shape has also been linked to something called The Game of the Goose, a medieval children’s game set on the Camino. Geese were associated long ago with fertility and the sacred feminine spirit in pre-Christian times. There’s a tradition that signs in the shape of the goose foot can be found along the Camino. The shape of the goose foot is Y-shaped like this crucifix, so some think there’s a connection.

Beneath the crucifix there was a book to write prayers in, which I did. I’ve been praying for our country all along the Way.

I didn’t see the Black Madonna, but I discovered an interesting statue of St. James. All along the Camino you see statues of St. James, the Pilgrim. This one was especially handsome, and is known as Santiago Beltza or Black St. James, like the Black Madonnas.

Santiago Beltza

Then it was time to cross the Queen’s Bridge, Puente La Reina, over the river. It was built by one of the Queens of Navarra in the 11th century to facilitate the heavy pilgrim traffic at the time. It’s stunning. The open spaces in the bridge are for when there’s heavy water flow.

Puente la Reina

I thought I remembered what the trail was like after the bridge but I was wrong. Soon I was walking way out in the woods and for the first time I thought I could be lost, and, for the first time I felt a little vulnerable on the Camino. The trail went up steeply into pine woods; it felt like Tahoe. What spooked me was seeing no pilgrims for over an hour. Finally I saw several pilgrims pushing their bikes uphill, it was so steep.

Tough part of the trail

After sitting on a Camino mile marker to catch my breath, and eat a tangerine, I made it to Maneru, which also seemed much bigger than I remembered. The path then opened into open green wheat fields, with fluorescent red poppies, and a dark sky.

Path headed to Cirauqui
Ahoy Cirauqui!

I had to pick up the pace to beat a thunderstorm brewing overhead. Cirauqui is a compact hill town with a church on the top. I was headed to Albergue Maralotx.

Albergue Maralox at the top of the hill
Interior of Albergue Maralotx with tile and antiques
Terrace where I sketched

I was the first to arrive at 1:00 so my worries about possibly having a top bunk were all for naught. I got a cozy lower bunk, and was happy to see a French female pilgrim I’d run into earlier on the path unpacking her pack on the bunk next to me.

She’d been struggling to find her rain gear in her enormous pack as the sky darkened on the way to Cirauqui. I’d shared that I was staying in Cirauqui. She said she didn’t have a reservation, and then our ability to communicate between French and English broke down, and I said Buen Camino and walked on.

It turned out that our albergue wasn’t sold out so she was able to stay. As we were unpacking our stuff for the night, I realized one reason her pack was so big; she was carrying a full-sized CPAP machine with multiple hoses and masks!

Before the rain started I was able to check out the church, which faced the albergue. It looked to be medieval with 18th century classical updates. It had a fascinating early medieval entry portal. I’d hoped that it would be open but the host said it was open once a month at the most and on their feast day.

Soon another French woman joined us in the room, and she revealed that she also had a full sized CPAP machine! There was a lot of laughter in the room and solidarity. They were also old-school pilgrims carrying all their stuff and not making reservations.

I also sensed they were glad to have each other to talk to. I’ve noticed that people who only speak French or only German can have a more challenging time on the Camino. Having some facility with English and/or Spanish are the common denominators.

I realized that the host was working solo, doing everything that needs to be done once the pilgrims arrived. He checked people in, showed them their bunk, which can be involved when it’s a three story building.

The official office, tiny bar and dining room were accessed by another door on the side of the building. He was in charge of selling snacks and glasses of wine, too. I was appreciative of the way he made it clear to us that he could do one thing at a time in a non-defensive way. He seemed to be a British expat who spoke fluent Spanish.

Interesting medieval primitive figures

Walking shorter stages gives you more time to hang out in the afternoon, and I really enjoyed sitting on the terrace and sketching the view of the church, and some architectural details. The rain and thunder made it cozy.

Dinner was downstairs in the former wine cellar. It was an extra 10€ and well worth it. There was salad and a garbanzo stew, red wine, and flan. The host was serving everything; I think his wife was the chef,

I sat next to a French guy who had started walking in le Puy. I said I was American and he said “Trump? and made boxing motion with his fists and laughed. I laughed too. I’m always impressed with pilgrims who hike across France.

Across the table was a couple from North Carolina who were Episcopalian. We hit it off and after dinner they showed me their private room (the only one in the albergue). I felt somewhat embarrassed because before dinner I’d told the host I’d settle my bill but instead went upstairs with them. When I came down he said no worries he’d charged my card, (which was fine), since I’d booked through booking.com. But I felt a little high maintenance.

The other folks in the bunk room were a Spanish couple who talked on FaceTime with their family at great length before dinner, and a couple of German men. Everyone was over 50.

Everyone turned in early, and there was no snoring, (thank you God for those CPAP machines)

Categories: Camino de Santiago | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

To Sahagun

When I left Albergue Jacque de Molay I had one of those first thing in the morning thrills of freedom. The day was wide open, and exciting. I love that feeling! Zing! My legs felt strong, and everything I had was on my back. (Well almost everything. My daypack  in the vestibule waiting for Jacotrans.) I wonder why I don’t feel it more often. It must be all the endorfins. 

The Camino followed the Autovia for most of the day. I enjoyed the huge directional sign that pretty much described my Camino 3.0: Burgos to Leon!

We also passed out of Palencia and into Leon. The way marker looked like it predates the Autovia.

I love the layers of ancient and modern along the Way.

A little farher on, I ran into Tami again. She had ended up at the other Albergue in town for the night. (There are less than 100 people in the village. The Albergues are the only businesses.)

It was good to see her, and we walked all the way to Sahagun together. We’d only met a few days ago, but it felt like I’d known her a long time. She and I were comfortable saying hello and good-bye, and wordlessly knew when to give each other space. We both wanted to experience the Camino solo, but enjoyed each others’ company. She had walked the whole Camino multiple times. The rigor and beauty of the Camino challenged her and gave her peace, as it did for me.

Her more evangelical vocabulary of faith was different than mine, and yet we talked about God and I enjoyed her perspective. She talked about “knowing Christ,” and it made me think, “do I know Christ? I strive to follow him, and worship him, but do I know him?” Thought-provoking.

The last few kilometers to Sahagun were tedious. The Camino wound through a lot of indescript and abandoned houses with “se vende” signs. Just as I was going into “grind it out” mode we came upon a spot that had a strong spiritual energy.

It was a like a place out of time: a little Roman bridge that crossed a fast-running river. The weeping willows were leafing out and there was an ancient (locked) chapel on the other side. We stopped and took pictures.

There’s that saying that pets cross over “the rainbow bridge” when they die. I wonder if I’ll cross over one of the many beautiful bridges on the Camino when it’s my turn.

Categories: April 2015, Santiago de Compostela | Tags: , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

What a beautiful day on the Camino.

20131011-205203.jpg

Last night I stayed in Foncebedon, a tiny village in the mountains after Astorga. Because I was concerned about my ankles, I decided to taxi up the hill to give myself another rest day but still make some progress. I enjoyed sitting in the front seat conversing (barely) with the taxi driver, who was a Bono lookalike. He very graciously stopped to check that my trekking poles indeed made it in the trunk.

I got to Foncebedon early and hung out all day. It’s a tumble-down village of slate stone. Lots of it has fallen down or is in the process of falling down. It reminded me of the song our son played on the cello from the Suzuki method: “Moon over the Ruined Castle.”

But there are 4 Albergues which are bringing the village back to life. I stayed in Monte Imago, run by a small group of yoga enthusiasts. Their shared paella dinner was fantastic. And there was a cozy vibe. I slept straight through the night and didn’t hear any snoring.

This morning I had my pack transported to Acebo, about 10k away, to be conservative on the mileage. It’s still a little unnerving to hit the trail and know that my pack is sitting there at the place I’ve just left. It’s a good illustration of faith.

The pack transport firm, Jacotrans,hasn’t let me down yet—I put 7E in the envelope and write a destination, and it magically shows up further down the Camino.

So off I went in the fog, towards Cruz de Ferro, one of the landmarks of the Camino. It’s a cross on a tall pole around which pilgrims have left stones and momentos that symbolize what they would like to leave behind on the Camino, or something in memory of loved ones. And many other things in between. People bring stones from home and other small items. The fog

was so thick I didn’t see the Cross until it was right in front of me. I left a stone and said a prayer, though, I confess, the Cruz de Ferro did not move me as much as I expected. It was right on the road, not as isolated as I had pictured it.

The fog and sun made for beautiful light the next few hours. It was totally silent and there was a timeless feeling—I would not have been surprised to see people in medieval garb or even fairies.

I got to Acebo early, and my pack was there, but I wasn’t ready to quit for the day. So I repacked everything in the main pack and went on, another 10k . Ankles are doing well, and I felt so energized by the scenery and the experience of walking today.

The last 5k to Molinoseca were tough—all downhill on rocky ground, but I felt confident about continuing on to Molinaseca..

I’ve picked up a bit of a Camino tribe: the Hungarian sisters, the Finnish woman, Austrslians, and the 70 something siblings are here at the Albergue. I’m getting to like bunk bed life—as long as I get the lower bunk.

20131011-192218.jpg

20131011-192257.jpg

20131011-192320.jpg

20131011-192342.jpg

20131011-192404.jpg

20131011-205221.jpg

20131011-205243.jpg

20131011-205311.jpg

20131011-205333.jpg

20131011-205409.jpg

 

Categories: Camino, Favorite Albergues, October 2013, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , | 6 Comments

Night in Los Arcos

I loved my day hanging out in Los Arcos yesterday—experiencing the fabulous church, sitting at the cafe in the town square for lunch and later, dinner with pilgrim friends. Gina, Caroline and I stayed at a cute auberge, and splurged on the more private rooms. They shared,and I had my own room at the top. The ceiling has the original heavy wooden beams. When I went to bed at 10:00 or so, I heard what sounded like a married couple arguing in Spanish. I rolled over, wondered where it could be coming from, next door? How? The building was stone. It didn’t sound like an auberge encounter. The whole place was close for the night. I feel asleep. At about 3 I heard a woman crying out in Spanish and screaming! I was still half asleep, and wondered what the heck?? In the morning I commented to Gina and Caroline about it. Only Gina heard any of it. She thought it was on my floor above her. The Irish woman on my floor heard nothing. As we discussed it on the trail today I realized how strange it was.

The Aubergue was in a building that had to be 300 years old. Who had lived there in all that time? Certainly, many, many people with lives I would never know. Were the voices I heard echoes of another time, of energy held within those walls? I’ll never know. I do know that Spain has an ancient and passionate soul. The voices were not scary. I slept well and felt comfortable in the room. They were human and very real. It was yet another lesson in the mysterious quality of Spain.

20130612-212646.jpg

Stairs in La Casa Abuela

20130612-212721.jpg

Afternoon in Los Arcos

20130612-224050.jpg

Albergue Casa de Abuela in Los Arcos

Categories: Camino de Santiago, Favorite Albergues, June 2013 | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

Blog at WordPress.com.