"I have got to find the river,
Bergamot and vetiver,
Run through my head and fall away.
Leave the road and memorize
this life that pass before my eyes"
-REM
Jan 14, 2011:
Sorry I haven't posted in a while...I've been keeping quite busy, but mostly I really didn't feel like it (so sue me). The next day in Astorga, the weather was pretty much the same as the previous two days, and the chest cold that I had caught in León wasn't getting any better. So I made the decision to stop this camino then and there. If I ever decide to do the camino again (and that's a big if), I'll pick it up from Astorga. Also, if I ever decide to do the camino again...it won't be during the winter. Having said that, I still had the urge to go to Santiago and see the cathedral and reliquary where Santiago's remains are kept. The last time around, I never seemed to be there at an appropriate time to visit the remains, so I ended up leaving town without seeing the one thing that pilgrims over the ages had come to Santiago to venerate. That's something that I wouldn't pass up this time around.
The train ride from Astorga went through some incredible countryside. The route between the two cities is somewhat roundabout, turning south into Ourense before finally heading to Santiago. All along the route were signs of the recent spell of bad weather. Rivers overflowing their banks, waterlogged fields, etc. Made me wonder what would have been in store for me if I had continued walking. In Ourense, I made the acquaintance of Lucia from Segovia...we hit it off immediately, partly because I mentioned that I had always wanted to see Segovia, but mostly because she was having a tremendous fun at the expense of my broken (but passable) Spanish.
Arrived in Santiago at about 10:00pm. It didn't feel quite right entering the city this way, but I consoled myself with the thought of how it would feel to enter the city after being rained on for 10 days straight. That notion made it much easier to accept my decision. I had booked a room at a pensión near the cathedral, but for the life of me, I could not find the place. Even after wandering the city for four days, I still haven't come across it. So I wandered by two or three hotels (one closed, one full, one very iffy). Eventually, my wandering brought me to the Hotel Monumental San Fransico. The hotel was a former monestary, and has been restored to probably-better-than new. It's evident that the rooms in the hotel were the former cells for the monks, although they've all been expanded and re-formed into something the former residents could only dream of. Visited the cathedral the next day, and finally managed to visit the reliquary. One disappointing thing in the cathedral...over the centuries, a pilgrim tradition has devloped. When a pilgrim arrives at the Santiago cathedral, they place their right hand on the central pillar of the Portico de Gloria and give thanks for a safe arrival. So many hands have done this rite, that you can clearly see where the stone has been worn away, in the rough shape of a hand. I did this back in 2006. I wouldn't have done it this time (I'm more tourist than pilgrim now), but I didn't even have the option. The central column has been fenced off, presumably to prevent people from touching it. I hope this is is temporary...it would be a shame to erase centuries of tradition, even in the name of conservation.
While I was at the cathedral, I also took the cathedral museum tour, which was fascinating...it's not quite as spectacular as the Burgos cathedral museum, but given my attachment to the camino, it was certainly more meaningful to me. On the way out of the, I bumped into Lucia again, and we ended up spending the next few days touring the city together (hence the lack of blog updates). I have to say - tourism is so much better when you have company. We had a ton of fun, and with the exception of one questionable dinner of pulpo (octupus), we also ate very well. What I just said about tourism with company is doubly true for dinners, etc. Lucia was scheduled to leave town two days after I planned to, but she convinced me to stick around and return to Segovia with her so that she could show me around...but that's another blog entry (which will hopefully come more quickly than this one did).
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Days 24 and 25: León to Astorga via San Martín del Camino
"No matter if you're born to play the king or pawn
for the line is thinly drawn between joy and sorrow
So my fantasy becomes reality
and I must be what I must be and face tomorrow
So I'll continue to continue to pretend
my life will never end
and flowers never bend with the rainfall"
-Paul Simon
January 8th, 2011:
As tough as leaving Pamplona and Burgos was, leaving León was excruciating. León is still one of my favorite cities in Spain, probably in fourth place...so leaving under any circumstance would be less than enjoyable. As it was, leaving my warm, dry, comfortable hotel room there to brave the elements on the road made the prospect of leaving that much more undesirable. But I did end up leaving eventually...in weather that promised to turn sunny and clear at any moment. Turns out the weather was just having a bit of fun with me; the rain started in about a half hour into my walk, and still hasn't stopped. Around mid-day, the temperature dropped and the wind picked up (a lot), which made the journey that much more miserable. I had intended on doing 23km into Villadangos del Páramo that day...anyone care to guess the status of the albergue there? That's right...closed. So I walked on another 5k or so into San Martín, where (thankfully) one of the three albergues were open. Thankfully, while I was in León, I had mailed home a bunch of equipment that I didn't think I'd be using and was just weighing me down. As a result, my backpack was 5Kg lighter, and the 28k I did that day was not at all tiring.
The weather the next day was every bit as bad, although at least it was honest about it and made no attempt to fool me. The first 7k into Hospital de Órbigo passed quickly, though I was drenched to the bone by the time I got into the city. Órbigo is famous on the camino for one of it's legends...that of Don Suero de Quiñones. Don Quiñones was a 15th century knight who, to impress his lady, planted himself on one side of the bridge crossing the river Órbigo during a holy year, and challenged any knight trying to pass to a test of skills. Apparently, he won all the challenges, and ultimately his lady friend as well. Each year, the town celebrates the legend with a midieval festival complete with jousting, etc.
What's more interesting to me about this legend, is that it's rumored that Don Quiñones was the inspiration for Cervantes' Don Quijote...written more than a hundred years later. The character of Don Quijote has always interested me...I remember my first encounter with him was when my mother and I were visiting my aunt in San Jose. She had a porcelain figurine of Quijote, but the sword had broken off. There was something about the aspect of the figurine that fascinated me...despite looking ragged and slipshod, there was a nobility about him, and I couldn't quite pin down what it was. Later of course, I learned the story, read the book, watched the movie/musical, etc. Today, I try to keep something of Quijote around my personal space...I have a framed print of Picasso's Quijote on my living room wall. In my last place, I had a little wooden figurine on the shelf. I guess I keep the stuff around to remind myself that you have to do what you believe to be right...even if everyone else thinks you're crazy. The trick, I suppose, is to learn to differentiate evil giants from windmills.
It should also go without saying that if everyone else thinks you're crazy, they might be right. So you might want to listen to their opinions and arguments, and weigh them against your own before finally deciding on what's right. If you do that, and you still believe you're right, go for it. Keep in mind though...if their reasons don't make sense to you, it might also be because you're crazy. At that point though, you're crazy beyond rational thought...so kick back and enjoy the crazy*.
The remainder of the walk into Astorga was uneventful, although at one point in the rain and wind, I asked myself "could this get any worse?". Fifteen minutes later it hailed for a couple of minutes, as if God were saying: "well, I was saving this for the apocalypse, but just to make a point...". I didn't ask if things could get worse after that. Mostly because I don't like locusts.
For a small-ish city, Astorga is really quite nice. Packed full of history and monuments, and with probably the best maintained and run Albergue on the camino. It's a bit large and impersonal, but frankly anywhere that has washing machines and dryers is cause for celebration during a winter camino (you tend not to wash your clothes as often as they don't dry very well when it's cold). I'll need to make some decisions as to what's next while I'm in Astorga...the rain is forecast to continue into the forseeable future, and Galicia has been under rain, wind and flood warnings for the past couple of days. One of the towns along the camino, Portomarín, had several roads washed out because of the weather...I don't even know if it's accessible at this point. I might end up taking a train further along...possibly as far as Santiago. At this point, I think I've gotten all I can from this particular camino (more on that in a later post).
For now at least, I'm warm and reasonably (but never quite completely) dry. More posts to follow soon.
* If what you belive to be right involves hurting people for any reason (or animals for no reason), please ignore all my advice and go see a shrink. You're crazy.
for the line is thinly drawn between joy and sorrow
So my fantasy becomes reality
and I must be what I must be and face tomorrow
So I'll continue to continue to pretend
my life will never end
and flowers never bend with the rainfall"
-Paul Simon
January 8th, 2011:
As tough as leaving Pamplona and Burgos was, leaving León was excruciating. León is still one of my favorite cities in Spain, probably in fourth place...so leaving under any circumstance would be less than enjoyable. As it was, leaving my warm, dry, comfortable hotel room there to brave the elements on the road made the prospect of leaving that much more undesirable. But I did end up leaving eventually...in weather that promised to turn sunny and clear at any moment. Turns out the weather was just having a bit of fun with me; the rain started in about a half hour into my walk, and still hasn't stopped. Around mid-day, the temperature dropped and the wind picked up (a lot), which made the journey that much more miserable. I had intended on doing 23km into Villadangos del Páramo that day...anyone care to guess the status of the albergue there? That's right...closed. So I walked on another 5k or so into San Martín, where (thankfully) one of the three albergues were open. Thankfully, while I was in León, I had mailed home a bunch of equipment that I didn't think I'd be using and was just weighing me down. As a result, my backpack was 5Kg lighter, and the 28k I did that day was not at all tiring.
The weather the next day was every bit as bad, although at least it was honest about it and made no attempt to fool me. The first 7k into Hospital de Órbigo passed quickly, though I was drenched to the bone by the time I got into the city. Órbigo is famous on the camino for one of it's legends...that of Don Suero de Quiñones. Don Quiñones was a 15th century knight who, to impress his lady, planted himself on one side of the bridge crossing the river Órbigo during a holy year, and challenged any knight trying to pass to a test of skills. Apparently, he won all the challenges, and ultimately his lady friend as well. Each year, the town celebrates the legend with a midieval festival complete with jousting, etc.
What's more interesting to me about this legend, is that it's rumored that Don Quiñones was the inspiration for Cervantes' Don Quijote...written more than a hundred years later. The character of Don Quijote has always interested me...I remember my first encounter with him was when my mother and I were visiting my aunt in San Jose. She had a porcelain figurine of Quijote, but the sword had broken off. There was something about the aspect of the figurine that fascinated me...despite looking ragged and slipshod, there was a nobility about him, and I couldn't quite pin down what it was. Later of course, I learned the story, read the book, watched the movie/musical, etc. Today, I try to keep something of Quijote around my personal space...I have a framed print of Picasso's Quijote on my living room wall. In my last place, I had a little wooden figurine on the shelf. I guess I keep the stuff around to remind myself that you have to do what you believe to be right...even if everyone else thinks you're crazy. The trick, I suppose, is to learn to differentiate evil giants from windmills.
It should also go without saying that if everyone else thinks you're crazy, they might be right. So you might want to listen to their opinions and arguments, and weigh them against your own before finally deciding on what's right. If you do that, and you still believe you're right, go for it. Keep in mind though...if their reasons don't make sense to you, it might also be because you're crazy. At that point though, you're crazy beyond rational thought...so kick back and enjoy the crazy*.
The remainder of the walk into Astorga was uneventful, although at one point in the rain and wind, I asked myself "could this get any worse?". Fifteen minutes later it hailed for a couple of minutes, as if God were saying: "well, I was saving this for the apocalypse, but just to make a point...". I didn't ask if things could get worse after that. Mostly because I don't like locusts.
For a small-ish city, Astorga is really quite nice. Packed full of history and monuments, and with probably the best maintained and run Albergue on the camino. It's a bit large and impersonal, but frankly anywhere that has washing machines and dryers is cause for celebration during a winter camino (you tend not to wash your clothes as often as they don't dry very well when it's cold). I'll need to make some decisions as to what's next while I'm in Astorga...the rain is forecast to continue into the forseeable future, and Galicia has been under rain, wind and flood warnings for the past couple of days. One of the towns along the camino, Portomarín, had several roads washed out because of the weather...I don't even know if it's accessible at this point. I might end up taking a train further along...possibly as far as Santiago. At this point, I think I've gotten all I can from this particular camino (more on that in a later post).
For now at least, I'm warm and reasonably (but never quite completely) dry. More posts to follow soon.
* If what you belive to be right involves hurting people for any reason (or animals for no reason), please ignore all my advice and go see a shrink. You're crazy.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Updated photos
Days 18 to 20: Calzadilla to León via Sahagún
"oh, mama, this could be the end
I'm stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again"
-Bob Dylan
Jan 2, 2011:
Ok, not quite stuck in Mobile, more like stuck in Sahagún. The 22k from Calzadilla to Sahagún was unremarkable and uninteresting. Met another pilgrim on his way back from Santiago, and he warned me that all of the albergues between Sahagún and Mansilla las Mulas were closed down until mid-January. That was bad news... it'd mean a 40k+ stretch between accomodations. In the ongoing battle between determination and pragmatism, pragmatism wins another round. I'd have to catch a bus from Sahagun to Mansilla and try my luck there. I arrived in Sahagún mid-afternoon, and got the same impression that I had the last time I was there...it's a large-ish city, but it's kind of a dump. While the historical centre of the city was well maintained, pretty much everywhere else had all the charm of a Detroit slum (if Detroit slums had been built out of adobe). Checked into the albergue and proceeded to seek out the bus station or an internet cafe. Evidently, the city has neither. Sahagun is on the main railway line between Valladolid and León, so I guess someone figured that busses were unnecessary. Also, given the entire city was covered in grafitti, someone else figured that providing an internet café for the obviously bored youth was unnecessary as well.
Got my ticket at the train station, which did not go to Mansilla, but rather directly to León. Unfortunately, it didn't leave until 2:00 the next afternoon, so I was stuck in Sahagún for several hours more than I wanted to be. More than anyone there wanted to be, apparently...not an especially friendly city. Then again, if I was doomed to a long term stay in Sahagún like they were, I doubt that I'd be particularly happy.
The train ride into León, which covered a two-day walk, took 30 minutes, which just goes to show what an inefficient means of transporation our feet are. Arrived in León, without a clue as to where I was going to stay that night (no internet in Sahagún). Wandered around the city a bit until I found an internet café, then looked up the various hotels...not to mention the location of where I was in the city. Found what I was looking for, and will be spending the next several days in León. Probably until the 7th, as I really don't want to start wandering in the wilderness again until the last big holiday (Three Kings day, Jan 6) is out of the way. Less chance of everything being closed that way.
I'm stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again"
-Bob Dylan
Jan 2, 2011:
Ok, not quite stuck in Mobile, more like stuck in Sahagún. The 22k from Calzadilla to Sahagún was unremarkable and uninteresting. Met another pilgrim on his way back from Santiago, and he warned me that all of the albergues between Sahagún and Mansilla las Mulas were closed down until mid-January. That was bad news... it'd mean a 40k+ stretch between accomodations. In the ongoing battle between determination and pragmatism, pragmatism wins another round. I'd have to catch a bus from Sahagun to Mansilla and try my luck there. I arrived in Sahagún mid-afternoon, and got the same impression that I had the last time I was there...it's a large-ish city, but it's kind of a dump. While the historical centre of the city was well maintained, pretty much everywhere else had all the charm of a Detroit slum (if Detroit slums had been built out of adobe). Checked into the albergue and proceeded to seek out the bus station or an internet cafe. Evidently, the city has neither. Sahagun is on the main railway line between Valladolid and León, so I guess someone figured that busses were unnecessary. Also, given the entire city was covered in grafitti, someone else figured that providing an internet café for the obviously bored youth was unnecessary as well.
Got my ticket at the train station, which did not go to Mansilla, but rather directly to León. Unfortunately, it didn't leave until 2:00 the next afternoon, so I was stuck in Sahagún for several hours more than I wanted to be. More than anyone there wanted to be, apparently...not an especially friendly city. Then again, if I was doomed to a long term stay in Sahagún like they were, I doubt that I'd be particularly happy.
The train ride into León, which covered a two-day walk, took 30 minutes, which just goes to show what an inefficient means of transporation our feet are. Arrived in León, without a clue as to where I was going to stay that night (no internet in Sahagún). Wandered around the city a bit until I found an internet café, then looked up the various hotels...not to mention the location of where I was in the city. Found what I was looking for, and will be spending the next several days in León. Probably until the 7th, as I really don't want to start wandering in the wilderness again until the last big holiday (Three Kings day, Jan 6) is out of the way. Less chance of everything being closed that way.
Days 17: Carrion de los Condes to Calzadilla de la Cueza
"All is quiet on new year's day"
-U2
Jan. 1, 2011:
First off, happy 2011 everyone! I hope you all had a great new year's eve. Also wanted to let people know of a small irony that I've noticed....the more ubiquitous the internet gets (smartphones, wi-fi), the more difficult it's becoming to find internet cafes or call centres. It seems to me that the only time I've been able to find a terminal is when I'm in the larger cities. So my apologies if I'm a bit late in posting entries or responding to e-mails.
Carrion de los Condes was a fun time. The nuns in the convent that ran the albergue were extremely kind and accomodating. I also got more pilgrim company there: Daniel from Quebec, who's an absolute riot, Hiroshi from Japan, who's only doing the Burgos to León leg this time around, and Gareth, an ex-pat brit living in Alicante. Thanks to Daniel's odd sense of humor and Gareth's good-natured gruffness, we all had a lot of laughs in the albergue, as well as over dinner and breakfast the next morning.
We were all dreading the first stage of the next day (new year's eve day) - that being a 17k walk to without towns, water, shelter, etc. The plan was to do the 17k to Calzadilla de la Cueza, and continue another 9k to Terradillos de los Templarios where we'd all heard legends of a fantastic albergue. The first 17k were bearable for me, although the treadmill-like monotony of walking through the flatlands was starting to take it's toll on my sanity. Stopped to rest in Calzadilla, and realized I had a pamphlet for the Terradillos albergue, so I called them up...the lady on the other end told me they were closed until Jan 10. So I decided to call it a day in Calzadilla. The albergue was locked, but there was a phone number to reach the hospitalero at. I gave him a call, and he was there within 10 minutes. He also made sure that everything was in good order (heat, hot water, etc), even if it was for just one pilgrim. Calzadilla being a tiny town, there were no bars, restaurants or stores open. So it looked like I'd be starting the new year on an empty stomach. César would hear none of it...apparently, he also owned the one restaurant in town, and he told me to come by for an early dinner (it was new year's eve after all). Dinner was good, and what it might have lacked in variety, it more than made up for in quantity. Afterwards, it was back to the empty albergue (no other pilgrims had shown) to wait out the new year. Being as tired as I was, I ended up nodding off.
They say new year's eve is an indication of how the rest of the year will be. There may be some truth to that; Last new year's was a quiet even with a close friend who means the world to me. The rest of the year was all about quiet times with friends and family (which was really kind of nice). I spent this new years alone in a town halfway between the middle and the edge of nowhere, in a building meant to accomodate 80 people, awakened by several explosions just outside the building (impromteau fireworks from the 6-10 permanent residents of the town.)
This could be an interesting year.
-U2
Jan. 1, 2011:
First off, happy 2011 everyone! I hope you all had a great new year's eve. Also wanted to let people know of a small irony that I've noticed....the more ubiquitous the internet gets (smartphones, wi-fi), the more difficult it's becoming to find internet cafes or call centres. It seems to me that the only time I've been able to find a terminal is when I'm in the larger cities. So my apologies if I'm a bit late in posting entries or responding to e-mails.
Carrion de los Condes was a fun time. The nuns in the convent that ran the albergue were extremely kind and accomodating. I also got more pilgrim company there: Daniel from Quebec, who's an absolute riot, Hiroshi from Japan, who's only doing the Burgos to León leg this time around, and Gareth, an ex-pat brit living in Alicante. Thanks to Daniel's odd sense of humor and Gareth's good-natured gruffness, we all had a lot of laughs in the albergue, as well as over dinner and breakfast the next morning.
We were all dreading the first stage of the next day (new year's eve day) - that being a 17k walk to without towns, water, shelter, etc. The plan was to do the 17k to Calzadilla de la Cueza, and continue another 9k to Terradillos de los Templarios where we'd all heard legends of a fantastic albergue. The first 17k were bearable for me, although the treadmill-like monotony of walking through the flatlands was starting to take it's toll on my sanity. Stopped to rest in Calzadilla, and realized I had a pamphlet for the Terradillos albergue, so I called them up...the lady on the other end told me they were closed until Jan 10. So I decided to call it a day in Calzadilla. The albergue was locked, but there was a phone number to reach the hospitalero at. I gave him a call, and he was there within 10 minutes. He also made sure that everything was in good order (heat, hot water, etc), even if it was for just one pilgrim. Calzadilla being a tiny town, there were no bars, restaurants or stores open. So it looked like I'd be starting the new year on an empty stomach. César would hear none of it...apparently, he also owned the one restaurant in town, and he told me to come by for an early dinner (it was new year's eve after all). Dinner was good, and what it might have lacked in variety, it more than made up for in quantity. Afterwards, it was back to the empty albergue (no other pilgrims had shown) to wait out the new year. Being as tired as I was, I ended up nodding off.
They say new year's eve is an indication of how the rest of the year will be. There may be some truth to that; Last new year's was a quiet even with a close friend who means the world to me. The rest of the year was all about quiet times with friends and family (which was really kind of nice). I spent this new years alone in a town halfway between the middle and the edge of nowhere, in a building meant to accomodate 80 people, awakened by several explosions just outside the building (impromteau fireworks from the 6-10 permanent residents of the town.)
This could be an interesting year.
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