Catching up on entries . . .
Navarette to Azrofa
It was a 21km hike to Azofra. It was miserable for me, between this constant runny nose and the blisters on my toes. (This rhymes). I tried to ignore it, but snot ran down. My kidneys started hurting too, and I don’t know whether I can walk 15km tomorrow. I took a shower, the water was very cool, then I washed my clothes. I was really freezing, so I lay down. Julio wanted to know about dinner, so we went to a little but well-stocked store. I got ingredients to make crepes for breakfast. Tired of all this white bread.
I’ve been buying red peppers, which are sweet and juicy, my raw vitamins and a wonderful food. It’s already October, where has the time gone? Julio, Marie Anne, and Cameron are walking ahead while Carrie and I will take a taxi with backpacks too.
To Santo Domingo
We got here early and the taxi driver knocked at the albergue and asked the couple who answered the door if it was okay to leave our backpacks. Carrie and I walked around in the chilly morning, trying to find a pharmacy, but it was still too early and everything was closed. Finally, we found a bar and we stayed there for a bit to warm up. Then we went to the square by the big cathedral and sat in the sun, drowsy but at least warm.
Close to the albergue’s opening time, we went to a small café and had a pizza. (That’s all they had). It was a lovely square with old-town charm. When we got to the albergue, Cameron was already there. This is by far the very best albergue. Still new and clean. The showers have lovely hot water, and we didn’t have to re-pump it every 25 seconds. Nice, well-equipped kitchen. Off we went, Julio, Marie Anne, and I, searching for food. Then we prepared it.
We all left to wander around town and see more than just bed bunks. I wasn’t sure if I was ready and well enough to walk 24km the next day, but I was willing to try.
I got up at 5a.m. and did my morning toilette. I ate half a red pepper and had coffee and bread. We left at 6a.m. and it was still pitch-black, but we saw our yellow arrow. I thought my boots would be better, but after a few kilometers, my right foot was in agony, and my two small toes hurt like the dickens. Next chance, I took my boots off and skin was hanging off my little toe. The other one was raw hamburger. My H’s were in an uproar, and there was a lot of blood, which created another problem. By the time we stopped to rest, I was in a lot of pain, and just started crying. I couldn’t breathe for all the snot!
Cameron came over to rub my back and give me some of his good energy. I taped up my toes and went to the bathroom and took care of that problem. They asked if I wanted to take the bus, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to walk. I just wanted to slow down, so that I could tend to things and not be run to the next place. I also took an ibuprofen, and it started to kick in. I was feeling a little better. And then click-clacked the rest of the 12km.
Then we were near Burgos, in a private albergue (our first) with a swimming pool and other lovely amenities. I told Cameron that I was ready to “throw the SOBs away” – meaning the boots. Nothing feels as good as a good hot shower after 24km in hot weather. I took the layers of band-aid off my little toe and the skin was hanging loose and pus was seeping out. I wondered what possible function this toe has, other than making my life miserable. We all rested before dinner, then went over to the restaurant. I ordered mixed salad and roasted chicken.
The salad was all right, but the chicken came in a soup plate with fat/oil a half an inch thick in the bottom. And in this greasy pond were the French fries (which I didn’t eat). All that on top of those greasy eggs with jamon that I had eaten earlier. It looks like pancetta but is too salty for me.
I fed it to the many cats that run loose here in Spain. There was a DVD presentation of the Camino, set to lovely music. We were delighted when we recognized some of the places we’ve been, and the assorted pain and difficulty associated with them. This albergue has a kitchen, but no pots. It’s damn difficult to get a cup of coffee.
The next day, we got on the bus, which was 35 minutes late. The ride took just 45 minutes or so, but we saved two days of walking.
Burgos
Burgos is absolutely lovely. The old-town center has many squares with shops, cafes, bars, and restaurants. Julio bought us some expensive jamon and cheese, presenting them like treasures, and we had a picnic on a park bench by the river. The huge cathedral had masterly stonemasonry. We decided to get a ticket and see the inside. My goodness, all that GOLD! Richly decorated altars, to whose glory?
The albergue was near, new as well, and huge. There were seven or eight floors, a large kitchen, showers for each group of four, so that made it nice. Marie Anne, Carrie, and I walked around trying to find some clothes, but a big problem was that fall fashion is in place, and then the sizes only went up to 44, or a 12 in the U.S. My toe hurt worse and I was limping.
I took a shower and put on make-up, and waited for everyone to get ready for dinner. It would be a thank-you to Julio and Marie Anne for their invaluable help. We will leave tomorrow to take a bus to Leon.
Leon
October 4. That was a nice and fine dinner, and good wine too. We even had dessert, tiramisu for me. I woke up at 4a.m. and after lying there for a while, I got my book and used my little light under the covers to read. Later, Julio was awake, and we went downstairs for some automated coffee. He then got the hospitalero to look at my toe. He left and came back with betadyne and asked if I had a needle and thread, which I did. He threaded these through the blisters, and stuff came out. He also made sure that I understood how vital it was to take care of this at once in the next albergue, in Leon. I then bought more stuff at the pharmacy.
We went to have breakfast near the cathedral, and it was another gorgeous day. Julio said it wasn’t quite normal. Then we went to the bus station to say goodbye, and that wasn’t easy. I wonder if I’ll ever see them again.
We decided to go to the Museum of Human Evolution. An impressive building and an amazing past, ancestors and all. Lunch at a nice square, though it was windy. Now we’re just killing time and flies in the lovely sun and surroundings. We met pilgrims from earlier etapas and greeted one another like old friends. Several said they were following the blog.
The bus trip covered two hours and boring landscape: hot, land, sand, nothingness.
Leon
We arrived around 7 and took a cab to the albergue, then hurried across the street to have dinner, which was a piece of frozen lasagna, heated on one side, with laboratory cheese, for 10 Euros. Then I had heartburn.
The hospitalero was one of the nicest and most accommodating of the Camino so far. Smiling, too! We had no pillows, so I used my jacket. Woke up with my toes throbbing, but got up and ready for breakfast: bread, coffee, jam (and margarine, my other nemesis). We waited outside for Cameron. A group of German men sat close by and asked questions about where I came from, where I lived, reasons for the Camino. I started talking and pretty soon there were a couple more. They asked who Carrie was, and how she came to be with us. I told them that at first I had had reservations, and had said I was not bringing another teenager to Europe.
Then I told them the rules I had painted for her. One, get up at 5:30a.m. Two, no whining. Three, no time for hair-fussing. Four, no make-up (since rescinded a few times, for both of us). Five, no going off alone. One of the men said, “Wait, wait! I want to write this down!” Sure enough, he got his notebook. Another man said this was the pastor, and he would use the material for his Sunday sermon.
They asked Carrie what her best and worst experience was so far, and she said without hesitation the Pyrenees. They asked further if she regretted being here, and she shook her head vigorously no, and assured them that this was the best experience. We took off, leaving the packs behind, and walked up some small cobblestoned streets. The only other presence was the street-sweeping machine, cleaning up after the fiesta mess of the night before. “Oh, gosh,” I groaned. “Not another fiesta. Everything will be closed.” Sure enough. But then we found a small café and had some form of a Danish (sigh).
The cathedral was just as impressive in architecture as so many others. We went inside and heard Gregorian chanting. We sat down and listened, being still and in the moment, while looking at the many gorgeous stained-glass windows in brilliant colors. Cameron sat beside me, holding “the spot” on my back, then we left and looked through the town. Lovely houses with lots of flowers and beautiful, colored paint. We saw some tents, and these were the beginning of a medieval festival. Many, many different items and so many colors and smells.
Drawback was, walking so much. My toe hurt something fierce and at one point it was stinging like mad. I sat on a bench and unwrapped it to see that a thread had cut off the circulation. I am so sick and tired of pain. We did have a baked potato while we rested. Cameron is being frustrated not knowing how to help me. I thought I needed to go back and take my shoes and socks off, just air out my toes and let them dry. Later we found a Farmacia and bought Compeet for my toes. Then we saw an Indian restaurant and decided to come back later for dinner. A group of people sat outside in the yard of the albergue and we all visited. Then a young man from Chicago and a woman from Denmark (who speaks at least four languages) joined us at the Indian restaurant. We sat outside and had a really good meal, although in very small portions.
Lots of people started to move and go to different plazas for another fiesta. Tables and chairs everywhere, families with their kids and/or dogs all around. Old, young, visiting, laughing, and enjoying their fiesta. It’s a nice way to see your neighbor, in a different setting, other than court. Tomorrow we’ll take the bus just to the outside of Leon and walk the rest.
Astorga
Lovely place here, too, and we LOVE the albergue. Nice couple greeted us warmly, with smiles. The woman, Marlene, immediately showed me a well-stocked kitchen. The room had only two sets of bunk beds, and nice, soft mattresses and pillows. Clean, too. There are nooks and crannies, a terrace, and a park nearby. Great town square and fantastic looking Gaudi house, almost like Hogwarts or some wizard’s home. I went shopping and immediately made a nice lunch.
Later, Carrie and I went to town and bought curlers and tweezers, and hamburger at a nice carneceria, so I could make German hamburgers. We ate on the terrace, which had a beautiful view, vast landscape with church towers, houses, poplar trees, and nice, nice weather.
We rested some, and went to see the first (?) chocolate factory, but it was more about memorabilia. Then I bought new shoes. The salesman was getting a bit nervous, as he didn’t have any more wide shoes to accommodate my right toes and bunion problems. I finally found a pair of Salomons with Gore-Tex, slipped in and said “Ahhh!” Cost: 135 Euros. But the first 50 meters, and more, the next morning were pure heaven. I wore them for about five hours, before having to change into sandals.
Someone said there were electrical lines on the Camino. I envisioned these earthly currents running gently along my spine like some kind of Terra RX.
We hiked 22 kilometers with only a couple of stops. One was in a lovely bar. The bathroom had lights, enough paper, soap, and hot water! All women pilgrims immediately brightened, and we thanked Pilar for these small luxuries. She told us how important a clean and healthy liver is, and how that fact translates into happy, smiling people. “All the poison is in the liver,” she told us. She had a beautiful basket on the bar with fruits and veggies in it.
We came upon some strange but melodious sounds. A young woman held a saucer-looking instrument that had several round indentations, and she struck and stroked it with her hands, thus making it emit this Tibetan-like melody. We stayed a few minutes, then went on.
El Acebo
We finally came to the Albergue Pilar, and a profusion of flowers in the courtyard. Tables and chairs with pilgrims sunning themselves and conversing. No town to speak of, and the only grocery store had closed, so we had no groceries for the next day’s mountain crossing. I had a big plate of pasta with oily sauce (tomato?), which promptly gave me heartburn. We met Barbara from Bavaria again, and Rainer from Cologne. Later on, there was Hans from Switzerland, who had walked all the way from there. His Swiss dialect made him so familiar, and reminded me very much of my brother. I really liked staying at the albergue there.
After a shower, I put curlers in my hair and the grandmother was surprised that there were no stickers to hold them. I told her I wanted to look nice for my visit to the cross.