Day 14 - Turnip Mountain, Soup of the Day, Korean Cultural Exchange - 24k

A good nights sleep and the afternoon off yesterday has obviously helped as everything feels great, until I put my rucksack on, oh well the first few hours are usually ahem interesting until I’m warmed up anyway. Leaving Belorado I see the Scandinavian gentleman on his balcony and ask after his foot, he answers although seemingly slightly bemused that it’s great now, I think he’ll probably work out who I am later.

Wander with snowcapped mountains in view and then arrive at a Turnip mountain alongside the main road, strange sight number one today.

Involves walking uphill through woodland where I meet a couple of gentlemen from Mallorca. I manage to tell them that I like Majorca and that I was there for two weeks over Christmas and new year. They show me the Juniper branches and explain that Gin is very important to them in Mallorca, I assume it’s making it not drinking it. Their enthusiasm is still strong, they’ve walked all the way here from home, I joke about them swimming from Mallorca to the mainland.


Monument to the Spanish Civil War out in the wilderness



Eerie Clay built Monastery in the distance

Find Cathy stopped for a break. say hello and carry on with an Eastern looking girl in the mix too, sandals swinging underneath her bag and cyclists annoying me by coming up behind you without saying anything and then wondering why they’ve got to slam on the brakes when someone walks out in front of them. I’m not surprised there are accidents on the Camino. Chat to Cathy and find another person who has travelled a lot more than I have and done loads of things that I want to do already. I knew I’d lived a fairly sheltered life but this is ridiculous!

We get to San Juan de Ortega and arrive at the Monastery. I decide not to check in like everyone else as I’m thinking about trying to catchup with others who aren’t here and have obviously gone on further today. After two small beers and packets of crisps whilst I try to decide what to do, (yeah don’t hold your breath) I’m too settled so sign in and go through the usual routine, wash myself, wash clothes, get annoyed by people using radiators designed to heat the draughty Monastery to dry their clothes instead. Snoring Spanish Guy and Funky chick are here too, see them a few times a day, they’re friends doing the Camino together.
Sit around outside waiting for Mass enjoying the afternoon sunshine. It’s Easter and it’s going to be Semana Santa, or Holy Week and we are sprayed with Holy Water by the Priest before being handed Olive branches? and entering the Church where the Tomb resides of San Juan de Ortega. Saint John of Ortega was a great mate of Santo Domingo de La Calzada (or Saint Dominic of the Causeway) who was born in Viloria de Rioja where I had spent such a wonderful evening and was immortalised by the Town of the same name and had worked with San Juan de Ortega to build bridges, hospitals amongst other things for Pilgrims.

Met a young lad from Scotland and his grandfather at Mass, I’d assumed they were Spanish because he’d been wearing a Barcelona Football shirt when I’d met them earlier in the day, once you’ve said Ola Buenas Dias or Buen Camino and had it returned by a hundred Pilgrims, it becomes easy to assume that everyone is either Spanish or German depending on how they look. The English speakers are harder to find cos we’re all doing the same thing.
The tradition had sprung up here many years ago for the Pilgrims to receive soup together and the man who kept it going was the local parish priest, his having died, there was a fear that this wouldn’t continue and that the Refugio would close. There was a young couple here running the place with several helpers so We were treated to the Garlic broth, twenty or thirty Pilgrims sat around a large table in the freezing cold Dining Hall. It was bready water let’s be fair with a red film on top from spices, I enjoyed the idea and the Legend more than the soup and left with unfilled belly to search out something more substantial.

Having met Andrej from the Czech republic at Mass, he was keen to come with Cathy and I and he brought along the girl from Korea I’d seen earlier on. We headed for the Bar next door and got ourselves a table near the fire. The next few hours were spent trying to speak English to Jong Hee and work out why her phrasebook was all about Holidays in America with statements like “I would like a bourbon on the rocks” or “I need a taxi to seventy first street”. Entering short phrases into her phone, she was able to translate them into Korean with little success although she nodded and giggled a lot. Jong Hee spoke virtually no Spanish but had pictures of things with the Korean below on a few pages of her personal organiser and her English was barely any better so I was worried that she’d been feeding herself properly and how she was going to cope with the rest of the Camino on her own.

I got abused in a humorous way by the Barman who when finding it difficult to work out which of us had ordered Ham and Eggs whilst holding them way above our heads told me “I’d lost my bollocks” which is a standard Spanish insult apparently. The meal was lovely once we’d explained what was what to Jong Hee, Andrej miming a Pigs throat being cut to explain what Blood sausage was and laughing his head off at the distraught and bemused look on her face. I asked Cathy how I could tell the Barman that I had found my ‘eggs’ so as we left I made a point of telling him that “A encontrada me huevos”. He seemed to get a kick out of it anyway…