Day 11 - Cock and Chicken - 20k

Sunrise over the twin peaks...



















The strange and lonely empty village of holiday homes unsold. Mock Tudor in Spain? Yup, followed the Yellow Arrows as usual, wherever they appear past the busy driving range

past this rest stop nice but concrete seats for pilgrims seats?








Reeds and views of fields being thoroughly drenched for spring planting...














Tempted for a second to have a dip, for a second only, or two... ;)




Wow what a difference a good nights sleep makes. I slept like a log but was confused to find Stephen in a bed near the door, miles from where’d he’d started off last night. Apparently although I’d slept really well and straight through, I’d snored so loudly that it had disturbed him in the night. So we made a pact, he wanted to stop in Granon this evening and stay in the bell tower of the church, sounded a bit noisy for me anyway so I said I would stay one place before there or one after. Stopped in Santo Domingo de la Calzada.



Bullring far right on the outskirts

Juan Pablo doesn't go as fast anymore?

Crest at the local Football Stadium...





Unaware of much of the History of the place I found the Main Refugio and stopped there, hoping that if I slowed down for a few days, the people behind me would catch up, knowing that some of them preferred the Donativo variety rather than the fully featured, slightly more expensive Refugios. It didn’t work however although I’d decided to stop where many of my previous days companions had too. Explored the historic buildings including the Paradors which are the expensive hotels in each town, these were historic sights transformed and updated, keeping the oldest bits as tourist traps. It was funny to be allowed to roam around looking at the remnants of History trapped inside modern buildings, wandering right through ancient arches to the dining room to look at paintings and tapestries while guests enjoyed their meals.

Managed to find a hardware store which was obviously not a franchise, asked using sign language for sandpaper from the slightly manish Woman behind the counter who even wrapped it nicely in greaseproof paper for me, and returned via a chat with the two Spanish guys and their American friend who looked a bit like Pete Samprass to the Refugio’s garden to work on my Pilgrim Staff. Checked out the four massive Hens and Cockerels, kept in separate accommodations in the yard as spares for the Cathedral, which like everything else seemed to be closed for renovations.

Borrowed from the net:-

The Legend. The punchline of the story is the important part, so the beginning can be a little woolly. We have to suppose that a young pilgrim (who is, for some reason, always German) is hanged for a crime he didn’t commit, and it is more fun if this is the result of him having spurned a girl; let us suppose for our purposes that a robbery has taken place and she , the innkeeper’s daughter, has accused him for revenge, or that she has feigned having been raped, or… write your own version. Whatever, the young man gets hanged, and a certain time (evidently not all that relevant, let’s say a couple of days) later, his parents (or friends, or passers by, or...) return to his hanging place and note that he is still (miraculously, thanks to the heavenly intervention of Santo Domingo, or Jesus Christ, or...) alive and breathing. The parents, or friends (enough! I hear you cry) rush to the magistrate, who is sitting down to eat a couple of fine roast chickens, or rather a rooster and a chicken. “Our son is still alive!” they cry, “It’s a miracle!” “Nonsense,” says the judge, understandably, but becoming the baddie of the film in the process, “he’s as dead as these birds.” Whereupon the rooster and chicken stand up, make appropriate chicken noises and fly off the table. The magistrate is thus obliged to recognise the miracle and order that the young man be cut down and released. What he did with the chickens is not recorded, but we must suppose that he spared their lives as well…

Tried to go to mass but was given the bums rush, entered the church used but they were knocking the stained glass windows out, more refurbishments, so we made for a bar instead to watch Turkey versus Spain, oh well. Hung out and waited for American guy to come back from dropping off his shopping. Enjoyed the atmosphere and chatted about football, the bar staff disappear on you to prepare food and then reappear to refill everyone’s glasses. You can’t pay as you go along, or at least they aren’t expecting that, however their system seems to work as long as you and them can both keep count of how many drinks you’ve had. They usually have a receipt ready to print so you can argue who has had what amongst yourselves and come up with the tab.