Category: 2018 Camino

Firstly I have to apologise about my drivel yesterday. I was tired…I always am when I eventually arrive somewhere…I was joined by Marta and Barbara. They are from Oregan in the US. Marta lives …these are her words…in a red neck town called Crooked River Ranch. She says its stunningly beautiful with the mountains as backdrops but everyone is racist and homophobic. She drives an hour every day to work in a different town as a medic in the Firefighting corps.  She used to be a physiotherapist. Anyhow, she pulled a chair up to join me and said,

”I have my photos to sort out, don’t mind me go right ahead and write”

So my train of thought was fractured  and as my brain is still mushed, I didn’t say much of what was floating in my cerebellum.

It seemed only right in this Sahagun hotel to ask them to join me for dinner that night and Marta is a vegan…so not easy..but it was good, the bed was fabulous and clean and big so in my wisdom. I think well I walkways leave in the dark pre-dawn as its cool but in the morning, I waill lie in till 7am and have a leisurely breakfast and enjoy seeing Sahagun in the light.

My first mistake was not to find the Pilgrims office the night before to get my half way certificate!! Bummer, it didn’t open till after 10.30am.

Leaving Sahagun was uneventful because it seemed all industrial. When I did come across the Benedictine convent of Santa Cruz  I bubbled with excitement and took a photo as though it was the only church I had seen.

Apparently, Alfonso V1  is buried there with his  wives. Naughty boy, I was going to call in but he wasn’t expecting me and I doubt that his wives would have been thrilled so I passed buy without leaving my calling card. At one point, Alfonso offered his kinswoman to El CID in a pact…as you do!!!

But I had to get to El Burgo Rangers in the heat and the daylight.

I was a roman soldier because the road was so straight and lined with upright small sycamore trees so their shade was lovely.

The first one is my sight of one of the churches as I leave Sahagun… Then the beautiful gate. That was still quite early in the morning.

Then begins the straight road…how I miss my olive groves and vineyards of Rioja, but the next one is the little village of El Burgo Ranero….it looks cute doesn’t it?  What have I learnt? Nothing is as it seems.!!

But let me let you look again at me soldier road….Oh and the wine was lovely!! Xxxx

I arrive clutching google maps to see where my bed is and holding onto the Camino app that has a little red line that tells me where I am.

As I arrive outside the bar area which always serves as a reception I am greeted by Diane.

”HEY, its Christmas Carol.” She hales. When you are really dusty and tired you have to fight to be polite. Maybe that is why I am doing this trek….to be a better person…to heal my heart…but all I want to do is hope my case has arrived and I have my room.

Of course neither happens…I approach the bar. I’m getting picky now, the Patron’s jeans don’t fit his bottom and the bar is crawling with flies! That’s ok , I think….its still early in Spanish terms. I collapse outside on a rickety table and order agua con gaz and a vino blanco.  Its all cool.

Diane is a nurse from Canada who says she is burnt out but has left a husband behind and ordered him to book her a full body massage when she returns and to pay for it??? She is in a lot of pain with inflamed tendons and her foot is taped up with black tape.  She walks through the pain. Her Physio says she has to rest but she says that it is not an option…she is a tough nurse.

I see my case arrive in the Jacotrans van and my room is ready…Cool.  I am so dusty and all the showers in these places have baths….maybe little, but hey….I soak.

Well what can I say…I refused the heated tapas….rabbit …and something else. Diane has filled me full of tales of the Camino bug…diorrhea and sickness….aaaagh!!!

Ok,   I make a decision… after chasing 3 Flies or mosquitos round my room which does have  a double bed!!! I’m not eating here.

I spray insect repellant liberally knowing there will be a pharmacy somewhere… I’ll kill the beggars…anyway.  The funny thing was that I pulled the bedcover over to reveal the sheets…they where white…but they didn’t fit? I had a single sheet over a double bed.??

All I can think of is that when I turn over in bed, the sheet will ravel round me which it did….I’ m exposed to midges or mozzies….aaagh!!! I’m not eating here.

Back down outside where the little rickety tables were, I rationalise . I’m ok . So all the Spanish older men come here to play Dominoes…that’s ok…I can write.

Im joined by Marta again.

“Its ok you keep writing, I have to sort my photos out again ..you keep writing…so I try…but its punctuated by conversation so I give up in the end. I take 2 phone calls!!! Unheard of. How lovely.

I ask them to join me for dinner cos I ain’t eating here. So naughty of me but Ive been safe so far. I look on Tripadvisor…me on Tripadvisor…!!!! ..and it sends me to a place on the main high street. Marta and Barbara are glued to me so we set off. I find a lovely little garden restaurant complete with one of those trampoline things for the children. Well….Barbara went on about people breaking their necks and being paralysed on these things and all I can think of …is my American babes and Australian babes have one of these in the garden.. ‘This is NOT  conducive to a good night’s sleep.

We take pictures none the less and have good BON HOMIE?

But I don’t sleep…the Mozzies might get me. Every time in the heat of the night, I turn over, the bed is uncomfortable and I’m naked with no covering. Not a pretty sight.

I think in the night that I will do better tomorrow. ??‍♀️???

Like yesterday, the road is so straight. It’s unbelievable really. As the sun floods everywhere with light,the track or ‘senda’ is visible for miles ahead. On my left there are the small trees that stand like roman centurions,to attention,  as the general passes by…that’s me. And beyond that are the miles and miles of harvested honey coloured wheat fields.

The senda is built over the Via Aquitaine…the oldest stretch of roman road in Spain that leads to Astoria I think. Clever these Romans. If you want to get somewhere just do it straight. So I trudge along, mile after mile nodding at my trees. They give me pockets os shade so I nod with respect as I pass.

My brain sweeps back to the vision of the old Spanish guys enjoying their dominoes and then Marta glued to me as she wanted to eat where I was going…I just hope that the next village called Mansilla de las Mulas…’Mansilla of the mules’…is an improvement. Although these few days have been a bit monotonous they have been thankfully short…today will be a bit longer but I think I’m immune now.

The secret is perhaps not to think about the miles but just the time…and to stop and refresh every 2 hours at least…and then suddenly you can see your destination in the distance.

I’m getting good at seeing in the distance. My dad had brilliant distance vision. He used to say that it was all his years at sea. Not sure if he was pulling my leg and he died too soon for anything on his body to go sideways, but it pleases me to think that he could see miles away.  So, I think, Now!! I can too. Its probably desperation on my part so I can get to where I am going.

OOps, wait on!!!…. I could see a junction coming up. This is exciting on this long long road…maybe there will be a bar and a bocadillo or piece of tortilla…. ooops no!!! Its just the road to Villamarco and lots of farm sheds. A pretty road with NO facilities but a display of preserved farm equipment lining the road.  Has my world shrunk to getting excited about old ploughs?

Enough!!! I arrive in Mansilla de las Mulas. ….Its a busy street and its Friday so the town is out…I go up to the bar where a worn out Victor Meldrew is preparing 10 coffees for his locals. I’m dusty, dirty, in shorts, as I signal him that I have a reservation.

He holds his finger up to me…so I wait…he is busy…and I wait…he serves others. I try to smile but he scowls and privately I think…I want my feckin room!…..Ooops, not pilgrim like at all. I admonish myself and sink into a chair with my poles, back pack and dusty me. He seems SO grumpy.

If you cant beat ‘em…join ‘em.

So i haul myself up to the bar to order a cortado. He nods. Recognition.? I sink back down into my seat and he duly delivers my coffee and a plate of Tapas!! I look up and say

”Gracias Signor,  Questa conta?’….I speak Spanish now!!!?

He looks at me with his scowl and says NADA…. he touches his heart to explain its free and to enjoy!!!!!

Im dumbfounded.