"Hope is the dream of a soul awake"
-French proverb
Five days off from walking makes one forget just how nice walking is. Left Burgos very reluctantly that morning, having enjoyed my stay there fully. Burgos is a very old fashioned town...if it weren´t for the mobile phones and modern fashions, etc., you could almost imagine it was the 1930's. Learned two important things in Burgos. One: roasted chestnuts (over an open fire no less) are absolutely delicious. Two: I'm a little allergic to chestnuts. Nothing serious, just a bit of hives on my right side that subsided after half an hour, but still...enough to put me off chestnuts.
The walk out of Burgos went from city to suburbs to sub-suburbs remarkably quickly. Only an hour's walk out of town and I was out in the country. Just as the countryside started opening up, I ran into a bike pilgrim on the way back from Santiago. He was asking for help, as (apparently) his money and cards had been stolen, and he needed to get back home to Estella. Yes, I know how fishy that sounds. Yes, I know it sounds like a scam. The problem I had at that moment was that I couldn´t ignore a direct plea for help. Blame Kant...his categorical imperative (while flawed) gives a fairly good way of measuring the morality of an action...would it be desirable to live in a world where everyone acted that way all the time? In the situation I was confronted with, the answer was very clearly "hell no". Besides, I'd rather be a chump than a jerk. So I gave him what I could spare, which wasn't a whole lot, wished him well, and put it out of my mind.
Spent that night in Hornillos del Camino in a cold, cold albergue. Two other pilgrims were with me, one from Austria and one from Poland. Neither spoke any Spanish or English, so we all pretty much kept to ourselves. All the shops in town were closed, but the lady running the albergue also ran the bar across the way, and she opened it just long enough to sell us some microwavable meals. My microwavable meal was called "Canneloni", but in appearance, taste and texture, it only bore a passing resemblance to the stuffed pasta shells I expected. For that matter, it only bore a passing resemblance to food of any sort. I'm guessing it's the primordial sludge that canneloni eventually evolved from.
Headed out from Hornillos the next morning, without anything solid for breakfast. It was probably for the best; the proto-canneloni was still swirling in my gut like an angry mob looking for a scapegoat (I´ve been waiting days put that metaphor on-line). I wasn't about to provide it with one. The route from Hornillos passed through Hontanas (everything closed), and the Monestario de San Anton (also closed). So I'd have to wait until Castrojeriz before I could get a bite to eat. Also had run out of cigarettes the day before, and with nothing open, I was out of luck on that front as well. So...there I was, no food, no coffee, no shelter, no cigarettes for 20k. At least the last time I did the camino, there was always hope with every new town. This time, hope seems to be dashed far too often.
And then something interesting happened. 2km outside of Castrojeriz, there's a rural road to another another town that intersects the camino. As I was approaching the crossing, I noticed three figures walking down the road toward the camino. It took 20 minutes from the time I first saw the figures to the time I reached the crossing (you can see stuff miles away on the meseta). By that time, it was clear that the three walkers were three little old ladies. I reached the crossroads just before they did, and as I passed, one of them called to me "¡Espere!". So I stopped, walked over and asked if if I could help them. She said that they had seen me walking down the road, and with that, she handed me four little candies. I was overwhelmed...I would have hugged her if I didn´t stink so much. Thanking them profusely, I wished them well, and went on my way. Turning back a few minutes later, I saw the three figures heading back to the other town. They had only come out to do what they could to help me.
That'll teach me to let hope falter. Hope may be difficult at times, but that just means that despair is laziness.
P.S. The candies were actually kind of disgusting, and ended up enraging the canneloni which, by then, had calmed down. But that's completely besides the point. In this case, it was absolutely the thought that mattered.
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