April 26-27, 2013. Belorado to Villafranca and on to Burgos.

 We traded yesterday’s heat and sweat for a day of cooler rain threatening skies. I suspected that any pilgrims suffering from arthritis were reaching for pain relievers.

Our ponchos were made ready for deployment and gaiters were securely fastened to prevent any annoying trail mud from finding its way into our boots.

Villafranca Montes de Oca (pop. 200) was a mere 12km down the trail. However, there was reason for our abbreviated day. We had learned that the little community featured a private Albergue, San Anton Abad, that was meant to be experienced. More on that later.

We crossed the Tiron River via a footbridge that paralleled the Highway N-12 bridge that replaced the one built centuries ago by Santo Domingo.

The path was shared by creatures more adapted to the damp earth. In some cultures these giant mollusks would be welcome guests for dinner.

800 years ago in the tiny village of Tosantos (pop. 60) a woman known as La Ermita lived in a cave above the town. She spent her life ministering to passing Peregrinos. In her honor the town built a church into the cliff and still holds an annual procession in her honor to the cave.

Our way wandered through the pleasant square and fountain of even smaller Villambistia (pop. 45).

These micro villages as well as the yet smaller Espinosa del Camino (pop. 36) each featured small Albergues.

Shortly before reaching our destination for the day we passed the ruins of the 6^th-9^th Century Monastery of San Felix de Oca. Originally built on the site of a Roman Villa, it is believed that the founder of the City of Burgos, Count Diego Rodriguez Porcelos (died 885) was buried here. The archway and ruins though sparce, were a moving testament to the ancient history of the path that we walked.

Having strolled a leisurely pace we arrived at the Hotel*** San Anton Abad shortly after noon. While not quite up to the standards of a Parador (a series of nearly 100 ultra-luxurious hotels in Spain built in castles, palaces, and other historical structures), San Anton Abad represented high quality for its full pay guests. For we Peregrinos it was palatial.

 

The owner, once a pilgrim walking the Camino, generously dedicated a wing of the Hotel to the hosting of Peregrinos. For only 12 Euros we were furnished with single tier semi-private accommodations set out in two dormitory style rooms.

Pristine bath facilities provided us with unlimited hot showers, towels and linens furnished.

The real joy was that we were welcome to join the “full pay” guests in the bar and restaurant. We were served  with the same grace and aplomb and even acquired a bit of celebrity due to the nature of our journey.

There was an incident that darkened our stay. Christine and I slept in neighboring twin beds. Late into the night I was awakened by the yells of a woman. She stood over Christine, on the verge of reaching down to grab her. I leapt to my feet and thrust myself between her and my wife’s bed. She kept repeating in broken English, “She Snores!… and She Coughs!” In turn I began responding with competing volume, “LEAVE HER ALONE!!!” Eventually the woman, who appeared mentally unstable, relented and left to sleep in the adjoining dorm room. I was shaken. What chance would I have had in a foreign country to defend myself from a charge of assault had the confrontation become physical.

Christine does snore, but no more so than the average adult. She also coughed that night. But in that room there were a few world class snorers. Among them Christine was hardly a medal contender.

What a change 48 hours made! We had gone from the dusty heat of the 25^th to the cool threat of rain on the 26^th to snow and near freezing temperatures on the 27^th.

Burgos was nearly 40km distant, and Christine was not feeling well. She had never fully shaken the breathing issues and it seemed that her difficulties were flaring up in the form of a nagging cough. Whether it was the incident in the middle of the night or the lingering bronchitis, I felt it best that we make it to that large city rather than proceed by foot with an overnight in another small town. The snow and cold provided just enough justification that we proceeded with our packs to the nearby inter-village bus stop. We were not alone.

Instead of feeling a sense of failure at having to seek transportation the atmosphere among the waiting pilgrims became quite festive.

The bus ride itself was very pleasant and the more so as we were insulated from the frigid countryside by the bus’s huge windows. An outside temperature display in the cabin further reminded us of what we were avoiding.

The entire ride, including stops, took less than an hour. Humbling, considering that we would otherwise have been 2 days afoot.

Burgos (pop. 170,000) is a destination city that features one of the three great Cathedrals on the French Route of the Camino.

We had planned to spend two nights in the city which negated the use of an Albergue since they generally only permit single night stays. That and Christine’s health bid us to seek the services of a hotel. For the next two nights we once again gloriously assumed the roles of “Pampered Pilgrims”, this time at Burgos’ Hotel Norte Y Londres.

What I did not know was that dark and ominous clouds lay just over the horizon of our Camino.

Peace Everyone, and Buen Camino. Pete

  

  

 

April 23, 2013. Navarrete to Najera

Exiting Navarrete in the morning we approached and passed by the Municipal Cemetery.

As noted in a prior post, the ornate arched entry to the cemetery was appropriated from the 12^th Century ruins of the Monastery of San Juan de Acre.

Atop the arch and just beneath the crucifix is a carved depiction of the legendary battle between Charlemagne’s heroic knight Roldan and the Saracen giant, Farragut. The 10^th Century battle between the two warriors was reputed to have spanned nearly 4 days without rest. Finally, Roldan slew the giant with a powerful throw of a well-aimed rock. (Shades of the biblical story of David vs. Goliath)

The battle is commemorated along the Camino through statues, relief carvings, and inscriptions, most dating to around the 12^th Century. The killing of Farragut allegedly liberated the region from his tyranny and freed a host of Charlemagne’s imprisoned knights.

High on a hilltop we encountered a restored “beehive” watchtower. Legend says that this is the place where the epic battle occurred and is still known as Poyo de Roldan (Roldan’s Hill).

Passing by the tiny village of Ventosa (pop. 150) we encountered one of the countless images of Santiago (St. James). This one was noteworthy as being “cute”.

Most often Santiago is either represented as a wandering pilgrim dressed in medieval attire with his staff, water gourd, and scallop shell…

…or more ominously as the legendary “Matamoros” (Slayer of the Moors). In recent years these historic statues have generated much controversy for their anti-Muslim theme. (Shades of the current controversy over Confederate monuments in the United States)

At Najera (pop. 7,000) we reached our 16km day’s destination. Prominent in the town is the fortress-like church de Santa Maria la Real.

The impression is no accident. For over 300 years Najera was the bastion and capital of the ancient kingdom of Navarre. The church holds the earthly remains of kings and queens from the 10^th through 13^th Centuries.

Legend has it that in 1044 Don Garcia, son of King Sancho the Great, was hunting with his favorite falcon. The falcon flew into a cave but did not return. Garcia, entering the cave to retrieve his falcon, miraculously came upon a hidden statue of the Virgin Mary. Honoring the miracle of the “Virgen de la Cueva” (Virgin of the Cave) he and King Sancho initiated the construction of the church in 1052.

Najera provided me with my first samplings of two cephalopod delicacies that I would seek whenever possible: “Pulpo” (Octopus), and Squid prepared in its own ink.

Either of these set before me on the table were an incentive for Christine to move to another table. In the years that have followed I learned of the remarkable intelligence of octopi and their related species. They are one of the few life forms on our planet that display complex problem solving abilities, tool utilization, communication skills, learning by observation, and  are perhaps even self-aware. All of this is even more remarkable given that they have a lifespan of only 2 years. Dining on these invertebrate wonders now produces a feeling of guilt in me.

April 24^th was another spectacular day on the Camino.

Clear skies and a feeling of community with those who also walked.

Our spirits were elevated for the 21km ahead and further boosted by a waymark that “announced” Santiago de Compostella to be 582km ahead. We had completed 240km since leaving St. Jean Pied de Port in southern France.

I will display a few more pictures of the day at the end of this post but continuing the theme of “legends” takes me to the end of the day and the town of Santo Domingo de la Calzada (Saint Dominic of the Road). Saint Dominic was born Domingo Garcia in 1019. Legend says that his application to become a Benedictine cleric was twice rejected because he was illiterate. For a time he lived as a hermit in the nearby forests. A bishop from Rome learned of Dominic and became interested in his devout dedication to the Faith. He ordained Dominic to the priesthood in 1039 whereupon Dominic is credited with undertaking the construction of a significant pilgrim bridge, a hospital for Peregrinos, the Cathedral, and otherwise elevating the town from obscurity into a major waypoint on the Camino. He died in 1109 at the age of 90 and is buried in a beautiful vault within the Cathedral. He is deemed Spain’s patron saint of Civil Engineers.

Near the plaza of the Cathedral of Santo Domingo is the large Albergue, Casa del Santo, which contains 210 beds for those walking the Camino. It also features a large chicken coop where roosters and hens are kept and cared for. The reason for the coop and fowl:

Legend has it that in the 1300’s an 18 year old German Pilgrim and his parents walked the Camino. The Pilgrim, named Hugonell, rejected the sexual advances of a Spanish girl who was staying at the same inn as the young man. Jilted, the girl hid a silver cup among Hugonell’s personal effects and then alerted the local authorities that he was a thief. Hugonell was tried and sentenced to hang. After his execution his parents mourned his fate, the body still hanging from the gallows. Hugonell then spoke to them from the gallows and said that his life had been spared through the miraculous intervention of Saint Dominic. The parents rushed to seek aid from the local Magistrate to release their son. The Magistrate who was eating dinner laughed saying, “Your son is as alive as this rooster and chicken that I was feasting on before you interrupted me.” In that moment the two roasted birds jumped up from the plate and begin to happily sing and crow! Hugonell was immediately released from the gallows and pardoned.

For 700 years in tribute to the legend an ornate chicken coop is still kept at the rear of the Cathedral, occupied by a live chicken and rooster. The white plumed birds, which are furnished by the nearby Albergue, spend 30 days in the coop before being replaced by another pair.

I am left to wonder at the fate of the birds after their 30 days in the Cathedral’s pen. Perhaps they go from the “Friar’s Pen into the Frier”. (My bad! Just a pun that I couldn’t resist sharing.)

Peace Everyone, and Buen Camino. Pete

PS. More images from the day:

A virtually abandoned golf village of empty apartments. The golf course and condominiums having fallen victim to an economic downturn.

The spectacular Spring countryside…

…and apparently this has been a problem.