Sunday, 5 April 2009

Day 15 - Burgos or bust - 28k

I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s better to lie there in bed awake if necessary and wait till everyone else gets up rather than get everywhere before it’s open. This morning makes that difficult as people want to turn the light on in the dorm and Snoring Spanish guy was making a racket last night so after I apologise to everyone for having a go at them I feel like a right git for the rest of the day.
Leave nice and early thinking that Harry etc are in Ages (the name of the place not how long it takes to get there) 3.8k down the road. I don’t need coffee in the morning to get going so I usually just eat an orange while I’m walking and stop for a Hot Chocolate later on or to make a sandwich to eat on the run, I want to get to Ages by the time the Albergue will be kicking people out, if not I’m bound to meet them all somewhere on the road today. Stop just outside Ages to write a note to Astrid to let her know how much I enjoyed the day we spent together but to explain my reasons for walking alone, why I came on the Camino, why I’ve been so miserable the last few days without a decent nights sleep.


Getting to Atapuerca, it’s Sunday and everything is closed including the museum I wanted to check out (no surprise there then, everything’s always shut for me), they’ve recently discovered the oldest human fossils in Europe somewhere locally and the whole area is well known for prehistoric remains. The Spanish snoring guy and his ‘friend’ Funky chick were holding hands, it’s discussed like gossip is at home that they’ve been seen kissing but insist they’re just friends when asked if they’re a couple. I hear later that they’ve become an item on the way…

Stop with the Scottish lad and his granddad, Cathy and a few others outside a cafe, disappointed that it’s closed and hand out the last of the heaviest bar of chocolate ever that I got at the Chocolate Hotel a few days ago, each piece is an inch square and half an inch thick, the whole thing was more like a brick when I got it so I can’t complain at lightening my load for the climb out of the village. Then the cafe opens, sods law, as I finish making myself a sandwich, so gulping that down and having my standard Cola Cao and a chat with everyone I leave.
Passing Cathy on the way up the hill, uphills are much easier on the legs but harder on the heart so I prefer them, downhills are just torture although I don’t spend as long walking backwards these days (yes it really works, try walking down stairs backwards when you’ve got a bad knee) as the terrain is too dangerous for that and my knee now supported by its elasticated bandage isn’t too bad after the first half and hour or so as long as I keep going and don’t stop much. Reaching the top of the hill the view opens up and Burgos can be seen as a huge sprawling mass on the horizon. I keep plugging away and stop to transfer my newly dried washing to my backpack from its position attached to various places on the outside whilst Cathy overtakes me, walking with a cyclist keeping pace with her.

Stopping at about lunchtime in a village after passing the youngsters who are hanging out with their cars parked up like a tiny version of the cruises you see in car parks late at night. I comment that I like the Ford Focus RS over the Honda Civic and they give me bemused looks as I wander off with my Purple sun hat at a jaunty angle and my Pilgrim staff chinking on the road surface. It’s hot today and I find Spanish Guy and Funky Chick again just leaving after a wine stop, that looks nice so I order myself a beer and a red wine and a piece of Omelette and take it outside to find a Pilgrim sat on the table next to me. We strike up a conversation, his name is Paul and he’s from Canada, he’s walked from Le Puy in France so has been going for twice as long as me already and has a fine beard. He suggests that it’s time for his to go and I decide that mine should be gone also as it’s getting scratchy and I wouldn’t mind looking my best.


Wandering off with a full belly and a bit of a buzz I leave him to it and make my way towards
Burgos, stopping only to change into shorts for only the second time, feeling a bit stupid for
carrying them around but it’s so cold in the mornings that they aren’t really a necessity yet. I
got to wear them in Belorado so that I could dive into the Hotels pool and get out again
immediately as it was freezing cold, to lie on a sunbed for another half an hour and give my knee a good rest. I stop at the village shop which has everything from hair grips to washing powder to headache tablets and mime shaving to the cheery woman behind the counter, she furnishes me with some disposables and wishes me a ‘buen Camino’ as I leave.

Walking all the way around the fence line of the airport I am passed by Paul and his two walking sticks, as he rapidly leaves me behind I suggest we go for a beer tonight, finally reaching the outskirts of Burgos I soon realise what was meant by the comments that it’s boring and follows the main road. After 8k of outskirts there is another 8k of inskirts to deal with. I ask for directions and am told I’ve got at least another half an hours walk to the Cathedral, I shrug and carry on, enjoying the busy streets and the funny looks I’m getting too. Reaching the town centre I’m accosted by a local who directs me to the Albergue up a huge flight of steps, that’s torture, why put it here?

The people are so jobs worth and grumpy it’s untrue but at least it’s clean and has great facilities and so cheap at 3 Euros! The dorms are like prison blocks with top bunks so close to the ceiling that anyone taller than me might bang their head if they sat up in bed and lockers for your stuff which at least keep it out of the way. I’m shown to my bed and lo and behold who is there but Paul from Canada! We’re bunk mates as they are allotted depending on when you get there.

The Scottish guys are there too. I go to the internet area to upload some more photos and who should appear but Jess the Australian girl and Steffy from Germany. They’re going to Mass tonight so I ask if I can tag along with their group of Otmar from Germany, Herman from Italy and Stefan from Austria who had been at Puente la Reina the night I drank half a bottle of red as had Harry and Steffy.

I casually ask once I’ve left it long enough so that I don’t sound too keen if they’ve seen Astrid. She’s ill with a fever and is sat in the square sunning herself with Inna who I’d massaged into a stupor in Logrono. I rush painfully down ‘those’ steps again and search the entire square looking for them and only run into Cathy who is waiting patiently for her date tonight our towards the park, the cyclist she’d been chatting with from earlier was from Logrono and was going to show her his city. So a bit down, I assume I’ll be seeing them this evening and contend myself with taking in the sights and sounds before heading back to get ready for Mass. It transpires that Harry etc caught the bus to Burgos and arrived in time to see an outdoor Mass with people filling the entire square so a bit jealous and wondering as we’re all sat there waiting for everyone to go into the Cathedral, where Astrid is. “Oh they’ve taken the bus on a few kilometres already to make their days walk shorter for tomorrow.” I suppose I shouldn’t have got my hopes up but I was disappointed not to see her after walking over 50k in two days, that’ll teach me not to ditch people and wander off in the middle of the night, you may never find them again.




Cathy awaiting her date









It’s really strange how much you can miss people that you barely know and then you also have feelings of not wanting to get too close or be swallowed up by a group either when it’s actually nice to have friendly faces to spend time with in the evenings but also nice to do your own thing during the day as I enjoy the quiet of the lonely road and experiencing the landscape, really letting it soak into every pore, every sense maxed out. I realise that it’s necessary to have a conversation about where you plan to stop for the day and then meet up later, when I’ve been trying to avoid doing that so that I can experience the road on my own and not have to explain myself. Jong Hee from Korea is here and greets me with her usual “Oh Jon. Hee hee hee” as she wanders round taking photographs.













I get over it and we experience the Mass in the Cathedral, it’s like any other given that I can’t understand a word that’s said, have to guess when it’s the lords prayer and try to remember it from school days if I want to join in and can’t go up for the free bread either ;-). People come in late just like any other church on the Camino and it’s painfull as you have to stand for periods of time and sit down and then get back up again a lot. After a well deserved shower and a change of clothes it’s the body’s time to relax and chill but you have to give it some more punishment to attend. As we’re leaving my two fast friends from Mallorca come to say hello, I suppose I’m easy to spot as the only guy with a skinhead but it’s nice to see them again and it turns out that they’d helped Jess when a miserable woman in a cafe decided not to understand her requests in Spanish. It’s a small world and it’s also becoming clear that this travelling community of ours is really something special, I love coincidences. Some people are awkward no matter where you go but the majority of the Spanish I’ve met are incredibly helpful and kind. The towns are always going to be full of slightly less friendly people, if I’m being kind to the poor jaded and hardened to life inhabitants of cities as they tend to be at home. We make our way at Harry’s behest to a restaurant on a card he’s been given, as we try to head in that direction we meet the procession for Semana Santa coming our way. It’s incredible to see people wearing what appear to be KKK hats in various colours, Soldiers in old fashioned uniforms, a guy who looks like the King of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland and then suddenly Christ nailed to the cross being swayed from side to side to a repetitive drum beat and the music of a brass band. It was pretty overwhelming, everyone lined the street so that it was packed, locals meeting friends or sharing the parade with their families.



































Getting to the restaurant miles back on ourselves in terms of the Camino, it’s a cafeteria and I’m not that keen. I make my excuses as I’m starving by now and wander back towards the Cathedral unable to find somewhere myself, I dart down an alley into a Kebab shop. They are called Kebaps for some reason although they taste the same. I was the first customer and my chicken Kebap came with chips and a coke can sized beer for 6 euros so I was well chuffed and scoffed the lot as Spanish youngsters caught the trend and came in. Three teenage girls looking for all the world like 16 year olds going on 60 with their handbags, stylish outfits and jewellery come in and sit at the counter giggling as though they’re being very naughty. They looked almost sheepish and were getting strange looks from passers by through the windows, I suppose a Kebap goes against everything the culture stands for and it’s still a novelty over there along with all other fast food.

Just time to wander back and stop at an ice cream parlour for two scoops and a stroll around the town at night before getting back for ten o’clock to the Refugio. The Cathedral is lit up and looks spectacular and the whole place is packed with people out with their families after watching the procession make it’s way through town, you can still hear the drum beat in the distance.

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