The birth of my "new" Camino was marked with a hostel breakfast. I ate cocoa pops for the first time in 35 years... and enjoyed then immensely!
Pierre and I walked with Lisa (USA) and Klaus (Denmark) for 10km, which is about how long it takes to put Burgos in the rear view mirror. They are a sweet couple who have found love on the Camino. He'll be departing for home soon but will return to meet her in Santiago, at which time she plans to go home with him and meet his family!
In Hornillos del Camino, I sadly said goodbye to Pierre. He was really suffering with foot pain and I found I had tapped into a second wind on the messeta. I continued in another 10km in the afternoon sun, arriving at Hontanas around 4pm.
Some pilgrims swear the messeta is the armpit of the Camino Frances, best skipped by taking the bus from Burgos to Leòn. Others rave about its lonely beauty. A beauty perhaps found in the thoughts you have, now that you have gathered back brain space previously occupied by blisters, challenging terrain and the "newness" of finding ones way by yellow arrows.
For me the colors, vast openness and solitude are mesmerizing and gratifying.
The messeta is profoundly beautiful, in a simple way. It has a way of making you feel small, insignificant and yet significant at the same time. Desolate. Quiet. Gently rolling hills, dry and dusty. The colors of the white earth, blue sky strewn with clouds, browning sunflowers and golden barley are striking. On the horizon were haystacks and wind turbines. An occasional village lay tucked into a tiny valley.
My albergue was cute and clean. I met a few new people and smiled at the now familiar ones.
On check in, I was given a slip of paper that read R10, B2. Room 10, bed 2, she explained. But when I got to that bunk.... it was already taken! That Pilgrim also produced a skip of paper with R10, B2 written on it. I returned to the front desk and said " there is a man in my bed". The Spanish woman almost died, she was so embarrassed... and couldn't stop apologizing. I laughed! Then I was given the bunk above him and he and I I had a giggle too. Our Italian roommate was quick to tell my Spanish bunk mate he thought his day had improved! (I'm taking it as a compliment. )
Dinner at the albergue: one German couple, one aussie woman and me. My Deutsch is almost 30 years out of practice, but they humored me in my rough attempts to butcher their language and didn't seem to mind at all when I kept asking them "Auf Deutsch?"
My new aussie friend, Karen, was Camino spirit in person. She had taken a nasty fall over a week ago and landed on her face. The cut on her chin belied the wounds in her mouth that kept her from eating faster... but she remained grateful for being here, able to eat more than yoghurt, and for the kindness that Spanish people had lavished on her after her accident. At the other end of her body, the table hid bandaged feet... a multitude of blisters and gauze that prevented blisters! I loved her attitude and learned so much about life, just sharing a table that one night.
Today I walked 51,236 steps. Almost 30 miles!
Pierre and I walked with Lisa (USA) and Klaus (Denmark) for 10km, which is about how long it takes to put Burgos in the rear view mirror. They are a sweet couple who have found love on the Camino. He'll be departing for home soon but will return to meet her in Santiago, at which time she plans to go home with him and meet his family!
In Hornillos del Camino, I sadly said goodbye to Pierre. He was really suffering with foot pain and I found I had tapped into a second wind on the messeta. I continued in another 10km in the afternoon sun, arriving at Hontanas around 4pm.
Some pilgrims swear the messeta is the armpit of the Camino Frances, best skipped by taking the bus from Burgos to Leòn. Others rave about its lonely beauty. A beauty perhaps found in the thoughts you have, now that you have gathered back brain space previously occupied by blisters, challenging terrain and the "newness" of finding ones way by yellow arrows.
For me the colors, vast openness and solitude are mesmerizing and gratifying.
The messeta is profoundly beautiful, in a simple way. It has a way of making you feel small, insignificant and yet significant at the same time. Desolate. Quiet. Gently rolling hills, dry and dusty. The colors of the white earth, blue sky strewn with clouds, browning sunflowers and golden barley are striking. On the horizon were haystacks and wind turbines. An occasional village lay tucked into a tiny valley.
My albergue was cute and clean. I met a few new people and smiled at the now familiar ones.
On check in, I was given a slip of paper that read R10, B2. Room 10, bed 2, she explained. But when I got to that bunk.... it was already taken! That Pilgrim also produced a skip of paper with R10, B2 written on it. I returned to the front desk and said " there is a man in my bed". The Spanish woman almost died, she was so embarrassed... and couldn't stop apologizing. I laughed! Then I was given the bunk above him and he and I I had a giggle too. Our Italian roommate was quick to tell my Spanish bunk mate he thought his day had improved! (I'm taking it as a compliment. )
Dinner at the albergue: one German couple, one aussie woman and me. My Deutsch is almost 30 years out of practice, but they humored me in my rough attempts to butcher their language and didn't seem to mind at all when I kept asking them "Auf Deutsch?"
My new aussie friend, Karen, was Camino spirit in person. She had taken a nasty fall over a week ago and landed on her face. The cut on her chin belied the wounds in her mouth that kept her from eating faster... but she remained grateful for being here, able to eat more than yoghurt, and for the kindness that Spanish people had lavished on her after her accident. At the other end of her body, the table hid bandaged feet... a multitude of blisters and gauze that prevented blisters! I loved her attitude and learned so much about life, just sharing a table that one night.
Today I walked 51,236 steps. Almost 30 miles!
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