I want to shout it from the rooftops, “GET OUT OF YOUR CARS, SLOW DOWN AND REALLY SEE THE WORLD AND THE PEOPLE IN IT!!!!” You are missing sooo much. As in every adventure Sally and I concoct, we make sure a car is not part of it. We want out!
I can hear some saying, “But, what about your VW camper van, that’s a car. A+ for vehicle identification, but using it to vacation in is way down on the priority list. Driving in a car is such an isolating experience. The occupants view the world thru glass as it whizzes by while seated in a chair. TV is the same thing-the world seen through glass while sitting in a chair.
We walked about twelve miles again today, through three small towns, open fields of harvested wheat, past sunflowers stretching their necks at the sun, alongside small streams and under rows of trees lining the road. It took us 6 hours. We could have driven it in 24 minutes. What a crime that would have been. We felt the cool air of pre-dawn morning evaporating the sweat from our clothes under a star filled sky. We noticed each nuance of air movement as it stirred itself to life with the rising of the sun. We took notice of the subtle odors of the fields of harvested grain, a distant bakery, damp earth or whiffs of sea salt tainted air. We watched the world around us turn from jet black dark to faint dusk to muted light to glowing sun rise. We heard the absolute quiet of the early morning, the rustling of the stubble of wheat standing in the field, far off cry of morning doves and the sound of distant laughter as fellow pilgrims caught up and passed us on the trail. The beauty of all this is magnified 100 fold because it is all happening in unison, like a grand symphony for the senses and the soul. The touch of the cool breeze on the skin, the advancing light and the whispering sounds of air through vegetation combine in full orchestration, nourishing the soul. All of this is lost when enclosed in the glass and steel of a car. This is why we chose to leave the car behind.
Yet this is only one aspect of the experience. The fascinating people we meet along the route, the gentle pace that allows one to understand the folds of the land, its relationship to the water that falls upon it, how the air flows over it and the uses man has found for it all come to light with a walk through the countryside. And these details are lost to sight at 60 mph! An exquisite flower tucked in the fold of the hills, the peculiar rock that seems out of place, the talkative babble of a stream working its way downhill, the sudden cool air found in the bottom of a draw. Irreplaceable experiences.
So again I say, “Get out of your cars!” You are passing by the wonders of the world.
We were up at 4:30am this morning, both of us done sleeping. We packed as stealthily as possible, then tiptoed out the door at 5:15am, hoping we did not disturb the 30+ people sleeping in the same house.
We walked up the street to the outside tables of one of the three eateries in town and sat down to eat our hard boiled eggs we had prepared the night before, and a banana. Breakfast done, we were off.
The route climbed 400’ over 2 miles to the top of the mesa. We accomplished this in the complete darkness of a moonless sky. The stars shone brightly in the center of the sky, but dimmed to extinction at the horizons due to moisture in the air. Once on top, we walked four miles of nearly level ground, following single lane gravel roads through the stubble left from harvested grain. At 6:30am, the faint glow on the eastern horizon heralded the coming of the sun. This faint glow added nothing to the general illumination of our surroundings, so we continued by headlamp as the air around us slowly began to illuminate. By 7:00am we were able to switch off our headlamps and travel by the morning glow. The sun poked over the horizon at 7:45am, its light welcome, the unwelcome heat it brings was not yet detectable.
About a half a dozen people passed us with the coming of the sun. Two of our favorites, Ferrari and Renault passed us for the second morning in a row. Renault gave his friend the name Ferrari when they passed us yesterday. Ferrari is 69 years old and maintains a swift pace as his trekking poles “click, click” against the ground. He named himself Renault, a self deprecating description of himself. We laugh and joke when we see them, us in English, they in Spanish and Romanian.
At about mile 6.5 for the day we entered the small Spanish village of Hontanes. The trail begins to descend off the edge of the mesa into a draw. Nestled in this draw is Hontanes. About 100 vertical feet below the mesa and just after entering the paved streets of the town is an open air cafe with outside seating, good music (at 7:30 in the morning?) and tables and chairs. We stopped in for Sally’s morning Coke and sat next to Ferrari and Renault. Some jokes and laughter ensued, then they were up and on the trail. We followed about 5 minutes later. The route wound down through the town, filled with albergues, and empties out in a river bottom that drains the mesa. This we followed for the next 5.5 miles. Along the way we encounter the “town” of San Anton, home to a “hospital” built in 1046AD to accommodate pilgrims and help those with St. Elmo’s Fire and Leprosy. A castle was built on the spot in the 14th century. Much of the castle and the cathedral remain as ruins. It houses an albergue which is reminiscent of a hippy colony. We stopped in for a minute, then crossed the street to a ramshackled outdoor facility to get Sally another Coke. Here we met the Spanish version of a burned out, philosophical Vietnam vet. He sold us a coke, then gave us a slice of watermelon each for free, then gave us a lesson in philosophy of life for 10 minutes. To his credit, he did listen when we spoke, and did not try to hold us when we decided to leave. Truly a unique character.
While sitting with our “vet” I saw Sandy and Regina pass by on the road. When we finally got to walking again, they were about 300 yards in front of us. We did not try to catch them, but they stopped a few times and we finally caught up. We asked if they had seen our Spanish family. We were sure they would have caught up with us by now, but they said they were way back.
We walked the final 2 miles to the albergue with them, enjoying their company. Just as we were entering town, dad, Maximo, of our Spanish family caught up with us. We were so worried we would get to town, hole up in an Albergue and not see them again. As it turned out, he was headed to the same place as us, his family trailing a kilometer behind. By the time we negotiated with the proprietor of the albergue, the rest of the family arrived. We hugged and high fived as if we had known them for years and were seeing each other again for the first time. What a wonderful family. At Albergue Rosalia we reserved beds for the night, then did a quick shopping trip to the store for bread, pasta, green beans, cookies and nectarines. We tried to exchange our US dollars for Euros at a local bank, unsuccessfully. I suppose it would be the same if a European walked into the Toledo bank with Euros, wanting to exchange them for greenbacks. They said no.
Back at the albergue we cooked pasta and green beans for lunch, then kicked back the rest of the afternoon, writing, showering and visiting an ATM.
About 6:00pm we decided to walk around town a bit, despite the 92° temperature. We visited the cathedral in town and enjoyed the coolness of this massive stone edifice. While inside we encountered Jim, a Presbyterian minister from Michigan. We got into Trump and politics and expressed our mutual disdain for that despicable man. After we left the cathedral we headed up town a bit to see what was there. We met Judy from Toronto on the way and talked with her for a bit, then stopped into a hiking store and bought Sally some trekking poles. This shop was in an ancient stone building facing the town square run by a very old, very sincere man, who wanted to talk. We struggled with the language barrier but what we felt from him was more important than his words; caring and sincere hopes for our success on this walk.
We headed back to the Albergue because there is a bar below it and Sally had a hankering for a glass of wine. We entered the bar, ordered a glass of wine and bottle of water (2.30 euro total bill) and enjoyed the locals as they came in for their nightly gab session. The TV in the corner was set to a 80s music station and the bar tender sang along with all the songs. Very adorable. We returned to the cathedral to get our credentials stamped then back to the bar for another wine. The bar was quite full by this time, so we moved outside to a bench. There we met Maximo, Gonzalo and Alba. Sally still had half a glass, yet Maximo insisted on buying her another glass and me a water. We enjoyed some potato chips and the wine and water. Sally reached for her wine on the stone bench next to her and knocked it to the cobblestone street where it shattered. Sally was embarrassed for sure. True, she was on her third glass of wine, but that didn’t play into the accident. Tilted stone bench and confusion of many people played a greater role. Maximo, Gonzalo and I picked up the broken glass and the singing bar keep brought out a new glass of wine, said it happened all the time and not to worry and life went on.
Last night the Castillo family invited us to dinner, but we had already eaten and declined. We regretted that. Tonight they again invited us. We were not going to make the same mistake twice. We immediately said yes. The delight registered on Maximo and Gonzola’s faces. We returned to the common room of the Albergue with them and enjoyed their company. They had been busy devising a plan to keep us with them.
Pedro, Alba’s friend had to return home. His parents had driven to pick him up. Madara (the mom) rode back to Burgos with them and got their family car that was parked there from when they started (same day as us). Madara would drive half the distance tomorrow, then switch with Maximo who would drive the second half. Sally could ride the first half, second half or the whole thing. What kind and thoughtful people!! We decided to have Sally skip the first section because of a 600’ ascent of a ridge. She would meet us 7 miles along, then hike the rest of the way. I cannot begin to explain how much it meant to me that they would go to such lengths to keep us with them. We had been loath to lose our friends Regina, Sandy, Ferrari, Renault, The Castillo family and others by not walking to the town of Fromista with them. Now we could stay together.
We got to bed about 10:00pm. We were sharing a room with 4 others, and they were asleep. We snuck into our shared room as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake them. Quickly, we were asleep.
As different as this is from the PCT, there are many commonalities. The people on the trail and those supporting them are kind, interesting, helpful and fun to be with. Everyone is open to new friendships. The big differences are the terrain and the language barrier. But with the right attitude, the language issue is fun and informative. The terrain is as hot as Southern California, but full of wheat and sunflowers rather than sage brush. So glad we are here.
Renault of Romania poses with us before dawn.
Sally enjoys the trail side cafe
The sea shell is the symbol of the Camino. It is seen everywhere in all kinds of incarnations.
The signage makes navigation a no brainer for the most part.
San Anton. The arch goes over the road and trail, built in 1046ad.
Spain’s version of a philosophizing Vietnam Vet.
The kitchen in our 10€ a night Albergue
Castle remnants above the town of Castrojeriz
Our adopted Family:
Maximo, Pedro, Sally, Chuck, Alba. Front row: Madara, Raul, Gonzalo.
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