The walk takes us past the Aroyo San Bol and I stop however painfully as there’s a cold wind today and my knees not warming up as usual but at least my tendons have de-swelled. I meet a massive Brazilian bloke at the one room Albergue who tells me where the fountain is. I hobble round the Labyrinth on one foot at times but make it all the way to the centre to crouch and pray, partly for my knee to have 
a rest but I make a point of thinking about everyone I’ve met so far and wishing them well too. Then hobbling back out again I fill my water bottle half way so that I’ve got a litre of what looks like some of the clearest, purest water I’ve ever seen. I may have been biased as the legend states that Pilgrims bathing their feet in the waters of San Bol will have them healed.
I continue on, walking very fast now to catch Cathy and Jess before I end up losing them too and have to carry two notes on me for the rest of the Camino. It’s an almighty effort as there’s a lot of downhills into Hontanas where I find them stopped for coffees as usual. I grab a quick tip off Cathy for how to ask for something to be wrapped for takeaway and a piece of a wonderful bread and butter puddingalike that’s only around for Easter and hand the note to Cathy, nervously making a sharp exit just glad not to have to race after someone else. Feeling exposed I just want to get down the trail but have to stop for some of my sandwich and potato omelette so I turn down a side track off the Camino to have my picnic and allow the faster people to overtake me, including Cathy so that I don’t have to deal with talking about my note.
A huge bird takes flight in front of me and then starts showing its anger at having been disturbed by constantly calling back at me and circling as it gets further away from its meal. It’s an Eagle and I’m dumbstruck but feel incredibly privileged as it makes off. I’ll eat up mine and let it get back to its breakfast. Leaving I end up in front of Cathy anyway and probably as red as a beetroot explain that my dastardly plan for
her to be ahead of me has failed, the few hours we’d spent talking at the end of the day before arrival at San Juan were a real eye opener for me and I wanted to thank her for teaching me so much, so that was why I’d given her the note.
We part, I can tell that I’ve given her something to think about as well as giving myself some more restful nights sleep hopefully in the process, having gotten a lot of stuff off my chest that I hadn’t had a chance to share with anyone else.
Arrival at Castrojeritz is awkward because I’m not sure I want to stay with Jess and everyone tonight as I’m feeing a bit exposed so I go past their Albergue and settle down in a bar further on and get a stamp. My collection is growing in my passport with up to three a day if I can find one in every bar or shop I stop at. The whole place has obviously been on the Camino route for ever with the ceiling beams covered both sides with notes from countries around the world and locals that wouldn’t look out of place in a historical reconstruction. The scary looking guy gets an Ol
a from me as I buy some of the tasty looking star shaped biscuits and another beer, trying the “could you wrap them for me to take please” line out successfully, yay!
I leave to find the Albergue and he’s coming after me and talking in Spanish quite quickly so I’m not scared as much as wondering what he wants as I wander in the general direction, stopping briefly to get some tips from a woman but arriving at the Albergue just as panting, the scary looking guy with the balding head and big ZZ Top beard comes up the street on a bike. He’d downed his drink and come all the way to show me round as he was the Hospitalero!
I hang around and chat to the German girls outside, one of them has a very dirty laugh, I comment as such and her friend explains what the English guy means, to more of her naughty giggles. Who should be here but the three Spanish guys from Tardajos. As I reach the bottom of the steps to look for the supermarket for my daily orange and who should be standing there but Jess and Cathy.
So we find it together and wouldn’t you know it, it’s down steps a lot of them. These places are always built on hills, I know why but it’s still frustrating. They’re buying food to cook for
dinner tonight, darn it my pride and unwillingness to communicate properly is getting in the way of having good nights out and in for that matter.
Wander back down later to find a restaurant only to find a good hours wait before they are serving food. It’s crazy but we’ve got to eat usually after eight but be in bed most nights by ten otherwise the lights go out, again a bit like prison. Whilst I’m waiting I see the Irish trio, try to get their attention but they are gone. My three Spanish acquaintances from Tardajos arrive, cheery smiles all round and a wave so we all traipse through into the restaurant together and I am asked to join them. Wonderful evening, although I missed out in one way, I wouldn’t have changed anything as I got to learn more Spanish and we had a really good laugh, mostly they were laughing at Fernando’s attempts to speak English and I just joined in.
I had spotted them in the afternoon at the Albergue having a siesta and finally worked out what it meant, when you get somewhere stop and lie down for a while, you don’t have to be sleeping just taking the weight off. This helped me no end for the rest of the Camino, when I could manage not to be sightseeing or shopping or washing things.
a rest but I make a point of thinking about everyone I’ve met so far and wishing them well too. Then hobbling back out again I fill my water bottle half way so that I’ve got a litre of what looks like some of the clearest, purest water I’ve ever seen. I may have been biased as the legend states that Pilgrims bathing their feet in the waters of San Bol will have them healed.
I continue on, walking very fast now to catch Cathy and Jess before I end up losing them too and have to carry two notes on me for the rest of the Camino. It’s an almighty effort as there’s a lot of downhills into Hontanas where I find them stopped for coffees as usual. I grab a quick tip off Cathy for how to ask for something to be wrapped for takeaway and a piece of a wonderful bread and butter puddingalike that’s only around for Easter and hand the note to Cathy, nervously making a sharp exit just glad not to have to race after someone else. Feeling exposed I just want to get down the trail but have to stop for some of my sandwich and potato omelette so I turn down a side track off the Camino to have my picnic and allow the faster people to overtake me, including Cathy so that I don’t have to deal with talking about my note.A huge bird takes flight in front of me and then starts showing its anger at having been disturbed by constantly calling back at me and circling as it gets further away from its meal. It’s an Eagle and I’m dumbstruck but feel incredibly privileged as it makes off. I’ll eat up mine and let it get back to its breakfast. Leaving I end up in front of Cathy anyway and probably as red as a beetroot explain that my dastardly plan for
her to be ahead of me has failed, the few hours we’d spent talking at the end of the day before arrival at San Juan were a real eye opener for me and I wanted to thank her for teaching me so much, so that was why I’d given her the note.We part, I can tell that I’ve given her something to think about as well as giving myself some more restful nights sleep hopefully in the process, having gotten a lot of stuff off my chest that I hadn’t had a chance to share with anyone else.
Arrival at Castrojeritz is awkward because I’m not sure I want to stay with Jess and everyone tonight as I’m feeing a bit exposed so I go past their Albergue and settle down in a bar further on and get a stamp. My collection is growing in my passport with up to three a day if I can find one in every bar or shop I stop at. The whole place has obviously been on the Camino route for ever with the ceiling beams covered both sides with notes from countries around the world and locals that wouldn’t look out of place in a historical reconstruction. The scary looking guy gets an Ol
a from me as I buy some of the tasty looking star shaped biscuits and another beer, trying the “could you wrap them for me to take please” line out successfully, yay!I leave to find the Albergue and he’s coming after me and talking in Spanish quite quickly so I’m not scared as much as wondering what he wants as I wander in the general direction, stopping briefly to get some tips from a woman but arriving at the Albergue just as panting, the scary looking guy with the balding head and big ZZ Top beard comes up the street on a bike. He’d downed his drink and come all the way to show me round as he was the Hospitalero!
I hang around and chat to the German girls outside, one of them has a very dirty laugh, I comment as such and her friend explains what the English guy means, to more of her naughty giggles. Who should be here but the three Spanish guys from Tardajos. As I reach the bottom of the steps to look for the supermarket for my daily orange and who should be standing there but Jess and Cathy.
So we find it together and wouldn’t you know it, it’s down steps a lot of them. These places are always built on hills, I know why but it’s still frustrating. They’re buying food to cook fordinner tonight, darn it my pride and unwillingness to communicate properly is getting in the way of having good nights out and in for that matter.
Wander back down later to find a restaurant only to find a good hours wait before they are serving food. It’s crazy but we’ve got to eat usually after eight but be in bed most nights by ten otherwise the lights go out, again a bit like prison. Whilst I’m waiting I see the Irish trio, try to get their attention but they are gone. My three Spanish acquaintances from Tardajos arrive, cheery smiles all round and a wave so we all traipse through into the restaurant together and I am asked to join them. Wonderful evening, although I missed out in one way, I wouldn’t have changed anything as I got to learn more Spanish and we had a really good laugh, mostly they were laughing at Fernando’s attempts to speak English and I just joined in.
I had spotted them in the afternoon at the Albergue having a siesta and finally worked out what it meant, when you get somewhere stop and lie down for a while, you don’t have to be sleeping just taking the weight off. This helped me no end for the rest of the Camino, when I could manage not to be sightseeing or shopping or washing things.Coming soon:- Day 18 - Stork in Fromista - 25k
No comments:
Post a Comment