On the high plains of Spain in the sun and the wind thinking of you all, you all

Gothic confections 22 06 2010

Burgos is an attractive city. It was cold on the way in but today has been sunny and generally warm (when you are out of the wind that is).

We arrived and bumped into a woman (hi Deidre) we have not seen the crossing from St Jean to Roncevalles – she is a lovely Irish Canadian (born and brought up in Ireland, moved to Canada). She pointed us to the new municipal refugio which is just behind the cathedral, is beautifully presented and brand new. Extremely good in many ways but, like so many other places it does lack some things.

For example our dorm had ten rows of bunks (4 individual beds to a row) and each bunk was a good width with comfortable mattresses. The bunks were separated by a column of lockers so Alison and I were top and bottom and the people next door were separated by the lockers. Each row has a wall separating it from the next so when you get into bed you are open on one side and have a wall with a light and socket on your other side (and a wall head and foot. If you sit up on the top bunk you see the lines of bunks and can wave to your neighbours in the rows beyond). I hope that is all clear....

So, a margin of privacy in a hostel is unusual and welcome. What was not so good was the row of four showers and two loos for all of us to share. Oh, and climbing the narrow ladder to the top bunk was torture!

Two other things. There was not a kitchen. On the ground floor there were some tables and benches fixed to the floor and although they looked good they were not particularly nice to sit at and it felt like one of those places you go to eat your packed lunch at a museum. In the same space were 4 pay as you go internet units, a couple of microwaves and two washing machines and tumble driers. All a bit limited for the few hundred pilgrims who can stay there at any one time.

The second thing was that when we arrived we handed over our pilgrim passports, paid our money and were led off by one of the workers there. He stopped us at the place where you take your boots off and we then stacked them in the large racks provided before we were marched off up stairs to be allocated our beds. It did feel a bit like going to a prison. I was half expecting him to tell us to strip and shower!

Having said all of this it was a very good place. The point is not that these short comings were really significant or that we were in any way being mistreated or short changed. The place was really nice, the facilities were better than many places we have been so far and it was four Euros fifty each for the night. The point is partly that it is amazing what can be achieved with even the minimum of services and partly that the process is different from most other things in our lives. We got the things we needed and we all found space for each other. We did not complain or try to get some extra service for ourselves. We bumped into lots of people we have not seen for a while and exchanged news, we had a good night’s sleep and didn’t even complain when people set their alarms for half five when the doors don’t open until half six (and we wanted a lie in to at least seven, which didn’t happen).

It also makes you more aware of the things you miss and don’t miss. It shows you what it might be like if you have to live like this for longer than just a pilgrimage and it lets you see why people will get ratty from time to time and fed up of being so limited in terms of personal choice and personal space. If you can have that revealed in such a wonderful new resource as the Burgos Municipal Albergue then it is something worth taking note of.

So we had a rest day today and are staying in a small one star hotel in the centre of town for our second night. This meant we could put our backs down somewhere safe and not have to get our sleeping bags out to claim our beds, etc. We have walked all over the place (and not covered half of what we would like to see. We also went to the big supermarket we checked out on our way into town and bought some essentials....

One of the high lights has been the cathedral. I first wanted to see this place when I was a student in 1973 and bought a Geographical Magazine with the church on the cover. It has been much cleaned up and so on since then but the whole thing is quite astounding in so many ways. We paid E2.50 (the pilgrim rate) to get in and as we walked around the cathedral part the section of the church still functioning as a sacred worship space the monks/priests were singing plain chant there and it was being piped throughout the place, so start your visit as soon as the place opens, folks.

It took us the best part of three hours to go around and we popped out as if it had taken 5 minutes. Stunning art, stunning spaces, fantastic stone and wood work, fascinating historical displays. Must go back and do it properly some time.

We went to the front to photograph it and realised that we had not gone into the church part – we always visit the church and give thanks but had failed to do it the day before. So we went in and did that and prayed for all sorts of things and people close to our hearts. The second chapel we went to had the amazing crucifix with Christ in the cross wearing an extraordinary sort of skirt. On the way out a priest came rushing up to me and asked me to stop. He opened the door of the confessional and I though that he had sussed me out (quite astutely) as being a sinner in need of such help. But no, he just wanted us to have little prayer card/leaflets on the Crucifix which included a pilgrim prayer – he had sussed us out as pilgrims!

We then went looking for a present of some pilgrim tat for our friend, Mike, and found a shop across the square that looked the business. We were just on the verge of selecting a suitable thing when Alison’s phone started to ring and guess what.... Yes, it was Mike himself! So we had a nice chat in the sunshine by the cathedral steps.

Anyway, here we are, in a bar in Burgos, drinking beer and coffee (me and Alison in that order) and taking advantage of the wifi to put this little package together so I better stop. Our task will be to find a cafe without the world cup blaring in it. Yes, Burgos does seem to have the bug more than most places. And yes we need to find one that has fewer smokers as the public spaces seem to be full of them. Ho hum, I still prefer the strange beehive type sound from a telly playing the world cup than I do having smokers all around me. One way or another, I am certain we will have a lovely evening.

I hope you have the same too!!!

Show me the way.... 20/06/2010

Just a jumble of different things for the moment.

We were in a private refugio last night and it was cold!! It was designed for hot, hot weather and everyone seemed a bit confused (they have a swimming pool on the garden but people didn’t even want to go out and say hello to the bunny rabbit on the lawn or hang their clothes out.

We shared a dorm with about a dozen Spanish people in a walking group. We passed them on the way that day and we were not sure if they were just a weekend walking group or pilgrims. So, now we know that some Spaniards (mainly, but not exclusively men) are extremely loud and do not stop being loud even when they are asleep (ditto as previous comment). They were lovely and full of high spirits but when they got up this morning it was a bit like bedlam (a mixture of whispering and shouting, tiptoeing around and slamming doors, roars of laughter and loud shhhing, etc.) while trying to get up early without disturbing the rest of the people in the room....

The meal was good but there was not enough of it (fish soup, roast chicken and potatoes with salad and crème caramel) and I managed to break a tooth on the salad.... I am still trying to work out how I will recover from that and so my nerves are a bit shot now. (for those who don’t know, I have a pathological terror of dentists and dentistry)

Today’s walk was another new landscape with wonderful oak forests and wide open sweeping hillsides, and although we did do a bit of climbing up hills it was nothing like the profile shown on the guide. But that is not a surprise. If you want a good, useful and practical guide to the Camino do not (I repeat DO NOT) buy the Brierley guide.

[at this point I have deleted the comments on the Brierley guide as they were not kind] the text continues...

......, but, after being so annoyed by the French guide we must confess we miss it so. At least it was informative.

The best one we have seen so far (Guide that is) is the one published by Dodo. They have sketch maps that actually give you useful information which is pretty accurate, their information about places and accommodation is reliable and up to date and it does not try to be a sort of middle aged, middle class English Yoda (although I do prefer Yoda’s approach to English).
So, there you are, I was trying not to gripe about anything and have found myself rubbishing our guide book (well, thank your lucky stars that I restrained myself, folks!) – just buy the Miam Miam Dodo guide and stop worrying.

Anyway, you could almost walk this without a guide because it is basically so well signposted, there are so many information guide boards on the route and every refugio has tons of leaflets and info about the next places. All of the people who run the refugios also know the route very well and can give you loads more info. Oh, and if you are a teeny wee bit worried after all of that just go into the kitchen or the local bar or the dining room and sit down with some pilgrims who look OK and start chatting to them and agree to walk with them for a day or two. It is just so simple when every little place has at least one refugio and where everyone wants to help you. We walked just slightly off the route (about ten feet actually) n the direction of a supermarket the other day and a car hooted at us. The driver then wound down the window and told us we should be on the other side of the road for the Camino and even wanted us to walk across in front of him so we would be sure of going the right way. Yesterday a woman walked us through a small town because there were some road works and she was worried we might get lost.... Only rubbish English guides get you lost on this Camino, folks!

So, now we are in another private refugio – it is a private “Network” place. We have found that they are actually extremely well run, clean and good value for money. They are also smaller with smaller rooms and many have things like individual lockers (which are really important if you are walking on your own as it means you do not have to take all of your belongings with you into the showers).

We are one day away from Burgos and everyone is telling us to get a bus so we can avoid having to walk through the industrial/commercial part of the city and we are wondering why they want us to do this. What is this obsession with hating cities and related things. We like urban walking as well as rural walks and find factories interesting as well as wanting to get to a really good, big supermarket. We would hate to get the bus and watch a fantastic large supermarket zip by us as we headed for the centre of town. Please take note, it is cheaper to shop in a hyper market than it is to shop in a small “supermarket” in the centre of a large city. If you don’t believe me try it at home! So we will walk, walk, walk tomorrow and if we see a bus after the super market we might get it then.

Tonight we will have paella, then tortilla and pudding as part of the night’s deal and tomorrow we hope for slightly better weather. It was lots of large clouds sweeping across a bright blue sky with large dark clouds of mist and rain in several directions as we walked. The wind was cold and gusty and the temperature was pretty low. No complaints, especially as it did not rain and I suspected that it might. Also, it is better to walk in cooler rather than hotter conditions, especially when you are walking up hill.

Still managing to avoid most of the World Cup and wondering where we might go to escape the Olympics when they invade our home town in a couple of years time. The Spanish seem to be extremely laid back about the whole football thing (only interested in their own matches, it seems). Ho hum....

Walking on the same old path again 19 06 2010

Today was another day of textures and colours. We walk around sweeping curves in hills and new vistas open out with corn fields gashed red with poppies and walk along between different types of grain fields giving us the soft yellows of ripe rye and the deep blue greens of barley each edged with wild flowers in reds, yellows and blues. Textures, colours and sweeping valleys of curves and sudden changes of angle punctuated our day. And, as with yesterday, the sky helps to give some scale to the landscape showing us just how large this country is. Massive white clouds drift along the sides of the valleys in slow squadrons patrolling the upper reaches and casting chequered shadows that travel along the fields and over the edges of the valleys. Even the motorway and the parts of the roads still being built look small here.

Starting in Santo Domingo we did this journey arriving in Belorado (which sounds like the name used for a cheap brand of cigarettes or naff frozen foods) in time to book into the albergue, do tomorrow’s shopping (tomorrow is Sunday) and have lunch in a local bar – beer and Tapas. Now, after a shower and washing clothes, etc. we are catching up on writing and things.

In addition to the scenery, we have been meeting up with and spending time listening to people we have not seen for a little while and we have encountered other people – some who are distinctly odd. We met Richard, the Scot who is walking wearing a kilt in a little village on top of a hill (the hill was Rioja Alta and the village was Ciruena). On the side of the hill was a posh golf course and beside that was a distinctly grim series of blocks of flats and houses. It was a major tourist development without any shops and with a large “club” area with two swimming pools, children’s play area and a high fence around it. Most of the flats were unoccupied and many were for sale. As we walked through the development we passed along further undeveloped streets with empty plots and weeds breaking up the surface of the roads and taking over the pavements. We felt that people who had bought into that grim development were now firmly located in what we used to say to our children was the “serves you right department”. It looked like it had grown and floundered on the basis of a high level of greed and low level of sense....

Anyway, in the little village of Ciruena we found a bar and headed there for a well deserved drink. At a table outside was Richard talking to a Spanish pilgrim. We went inside to sit while drinking our beer then joined them outside to make our sandwich and chat. We had not seen him since the day we entered Pamplona. He told us several stories about the people he had met and things he has seen and we shared some of ours. As we chatted another person we had not seen since leaving St Jean appeared. Anne, who had set off from St Jean on her bike the day we left for the high pass walked up to us with walking shoes on her feet and a rucksack on her back. We walked into Santo Dominica together and listened to her story then spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with her (she stayed in the same refugio as us too).

Before giving a short outline of her tale I must share the following incident with you.

On the way towards Rioja Alta (but before we had even started to climb the not very steep hill) we were walking along one of the relatively well kept but still coarsely surfaced paths that make up many sections of the Spanish Camino. It was warm but overcast with a light breeze and we kept looking back for signs of cyclists as they tend to come in small groups and approach you quite quickly and silently giving you no warning that they are there. Usually they just give a short shout of “Hola” or “Buen Camino” just before they are on your back and you have to jump out of their way or have them skidding into your back – which is a very unpleasant experience.

I looked back and saw both a cyclist and a car behind it some way back. I warned Alison and kept monitoring them by glancing back. They went past a small group of walkers, then a couple and still the bike was just a head of the car and I thought both what a shame it must be for the cyclist being harassed by a car like that and also thought the cyclist must be either an idiot who cannot work out how to stop or a pain in the butt for blocking the car in that way.

Alison and I stood off the path to let them past (she was going to take her fleece off so it seemed like a good time to stop anyway) and we watched in awe as a quite good looking woman in possibly her forties cycled past us. She was wearing very expensive clothes and riding a very posh bike. She was cycling slowly and seemed very pleased to have us watching her as she went by. The car behind her was driven by a fit, very well dressed man of similar or slightly older age driving brand new top of the range Mercedes with cream leather interior, etc. He was accompanying her as she wobbled stylishly along the path.

A few hundred metres on the path began to climb at a gentle angle as it reached the latter stages of the valley we were walking along. She stopped the bike and to car stopped behind her. The man go out and they stood together for a few minutes before she climbed back on the bike and he ran behind her for a good hundred feet or so pushing her until she was going slowly but steadily up the hill.

Despite their distinct lack of speed and the open aspect of the camino at this point they were long gone when we reached the top of that valley some five minutes after them (the path out of the valley continued up the side of the next and on along the side of the golf course and we could see up it for more than a kilometre when we reached to top). Perhaps she had done her designated exercise for the day or had become sufficiently bored with it to want to stop. Whatever the reason, they had taken up the bike and left a la merc before the real hill climbing began.

Look out in the papers and magazines to see if any famous woman claims that she has recently cycled the camino – it might have been her.

Contrast this with Anne’s story.

Anne walked the Camino 9 years ago and decided, as she had a bike, to spend some time cycling the Camino revisiting places she had enjoyed and checking out new places. With seven weeks to do this in she though it seemed feasible to cycle to Santiago and return to St Jean in time to go back on the transport she had booked.

She was thoroughly looking forward to the experience and was only worried a bit about the problem of being able to watch the World Cup while doing the Camino (Refugios all seemed to close too early for the games).

She soon found that cycling was not as good as she had hoped.

Firstly, the guide she was using was pretty out of date. Add to this the fact that the country road she was hoping to use was on the way to being replaced by a major motorway and you begin to see her peoblems.

She would start from a place and soon discover that the route she was hoping to take soon developed into a large roundabout with all the exits going onto major high ways. When the old road existed it was so busy it soon became too dangerous to use on a bike. She asked various people for advice (including the police) and they all said the same thing. Either cycle on the camino itself or risk the busy road (but only if it was still the old road – she could not cycle on the motorway, even she wanted to...).

Cycling on the Camino was not really an option for Anne. There are very many stretches of it that are incredibly steep, muddy, uneven, filled with boulders and very twisty (not to mention heavily encroached on by all sorts of trees and bushes. Ths is all great stuff for a strong, experienced All Terrain Biker with the right sort of equipment. For Anne it was not an option – Anne is very petite, she has a standard woman’s road bike and only basic experience with no idea of to cycle such routes.

She then discovered that many of the standard refugios are not particularly welcoming to cyclists. Many refuse cyclists and others say cyclist can come in if there are spaces left after 7pm in the evening (Refuios in Spain are not allowed, by Law, to refuse any pilgrim help after 7 pm in the evening)

She found this deeply upsetting and another aspect of the journey that was destructive to both her morale and her enjoyment of the pilgrimage.

By the time she had done two or three days she was beginning to wish she had never started and within another day she was ready to completely break down.

She managed to find a good refugion in Logrono that welcomed bikers and the woman who ran the place was extremely supportive and helpful. She talked it through with Anne and let her stay an extra day. Anne walked around the town distraught trying to work out what to do. She had seven weeks to do the Camino and get back to St Jean for her transport home but she just could not face another day on the road. She moved from place to place finding herself crying and in despair. She went to a church hoping to find some clue and found the reading for the day was one about the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears. This made her cry even more as she wondered what the story might mean for her.

She went to the pilgrims’ information bureau at the start of the bridge over the river leading into Logrono. The pounding water below seemed to be washing away her hope rather than feeding her strength and, when she asked for help in the bureau the really nice man behind the counter only confirmed her worst fears. He really wanted to help (the bureau is a great place, by the way – clean, well designed, brand new and peopled by really good staff) but the simple solution was that she needed to seek the help of hospitaliers in each refugio she stopped at. They would be able to guide her along the route safely, pointing out the best local options for her on the way. The solution only seemed to make her prospects worse.

Eventually, she found herself at the door of an outdoor pursuits shop and she walked through the entrance and into the walkers’ department. There she bought a rucksack and a pair of walking boots.

When she returned to the refugio the lady there threw her arms around Anne and congratulated her on her decision. The bike and any un-needed equipment could stay at the refugio until Anne returned for it in a few weeks time. She sent Anne to the bus station to find out options for getting her nd the bike back to St Jean and everything just fell into place.

So, now Anne is walking to Santiago and is so much happier she just cannot believe how happy she is. She had made a mistake and had been given the chance to correct it before it destroyed her and now she was enjoying everything except, perhaps, the awful performance of the England team. But she knew there was nothing she could do about that.

I keep thinking of the contrast between the woman on the bike with the Mercedes following her and Anne who is no longer on her bike. I keep getting new thoughts of what it all means and I keep thinking that it is all part of that rich, heady concoction that is the Camino.