Camino De Santiago Part 3: A Turning Point

Day 9 Belorado to Cardenuela 36.3km

Leaving Belorado the route was much the same, a dirt track along a dual carriageway. I didn’t know how much more I could take. With artic lorries passing very minute it wasn’t an enjoyable experience. I stopped and had a look at the map, and I was relieved to see that the route ahead soon cuts across country and over the hills leading me away from the main roads. Once I was on this track crossing the hills I was much happier. Out of nowhere 3 three fellow pilgrims approached from behind. As they passed I had a quick chat with them. They were from Hungary, and they started their journey from their home city of Budapest. So far they had over 4000km walked already, which amazed me. They were walking at a much faster pace than me, so I wished them all the best and as one of the men walked away I noticed his boots were held together with duct tape and I wondered if his boots would make it to Santiago. I eventually got to my Albergue that evening and found myself to be the only resident there apart from a harvest crew that pulled up with their combine harvester and tractors and trailers for their dinner and a few beers. I suddenly became very aware of my feet; they were in a lot of pain. I had a good look at my boots, there was no soles left on the heels, sure no wonder my feet were in agony. I was about 14km outside the city of Burgos, so I thought I better find a shoe shop as I passed through tomorrow.

Day 10 Cardenuela to Hornillos 35.4km

By mid-morning I had reached the city of Burgos, and my first stop was a shoe shop where I asked for the best walking boots they had. They were expensive but unbelievably comfortable and well worth the money. So, with a new spring in my step, I headed towards the cathedral. What I have found is that whether you were religious or not the churches and cathedrals were always where pilgrims gathered. Outside the cathedral I sat down beside a German man who had actually finished his walk to Santiago and was now walking back to his home city of Berlin. He was fixing his boots using empty cigarette boxes as soles. I tried to hide my sparkling clean new boots. I could have let myself feel guilty for not suffering in my old boots, but I thought if there is a way of relieving that suffering then do it. After I had some lunch I hit the road again, once I left the city and I was back on the dusty tracks away form the traffic, I began to really enjoy the Camino, and I was now very comfortable on my own and in my new boots of course. Hornillos was my final stop of the day. After checking into my Albergue I sat outside to have a cigarette when I spotted a gang of pilgrims looking confused. I went to them and showed them to the Albergue, we all got along very easily and so we all went out to dinner together. The gang tonight was Oliver and Mel, a couple from Scotland, Michael from Peru, Christian from Poland and Peter, a local Spaniard.

Day 11 Hornillos to Hero de la Vega 31.2km

I bid my new friends farewell and said I will meet them again on the road ahead. Today was a walk through nothing but wheat fields. I was in my element here, the road was quiet, and I felt completely in the present moment. I stopped in a town called Castrajeriz for lunch and examined the route ahead. It was a steep vertical climb up to Alto Mastelares and for some reason it made me nervous. I thought I wouldn’t make it up without having a heart attack or something. So, I waited until my food was completely settled in my stomach before setting off. It was tough going but I was well able for it. When I reached the top I noticed a man that was completely out of breath and the first he done was light a cigarette to celebrate. I did the same, but I waited until I caught my breath and cooled off a bit in the shade first. So, after a little rest I was off again, I felt like there was no stopping me now. My final stop of the day was Itero de la Vega, with not another pilgrim in town I relaxed for the evening watching the combines harvesting wheat.

Day 12 Itero de la Vega to Carrión 34.7km

Most of the day was spent walking on the footpaths along a main road. However, the road was quiet, of both traffic and pilgrims, and as far as I remember I spoke to nobody during the days walk. I didn’t mind, at this stage I was very happy in my own company, and I knew that the road ahead will always provide company at some stage. I arrived in Carrión that evening and settled into my Albergue, which was a convent. That evening I found a nice place to eat and then strolled around town. Outside another restaurant I heard English being spoken by a group having drinks, so I sat in and joined in the conversion. There was a Scotsman, an Australian, and an American man who turned out to be a Hollywood actor. The Australian was drunk and wasn’t particularly nice in his present state, so I kept my distance. The Scot and the American were nice, and the chat was good. The American soon realised that I actually knew nobody at the table, he assumed one of the other men knew me, and he was shocked that I just casually sat down and joined the conversation and thought that that took courage. I didn’t see it that way at all and thought it was normal enough, the Scot agreed with me, it must be a Celtic thing.

After a while I felt it was time to leave the table and have a walk around town. I spotted the gang from the night before strolling into town looking tired and hungry. I ran down to meet them and they were delighted to se me. I showed them were to get good food. The restaurant owner give me free drink as a thank you for directing extra custom to his restaurant, so I joined the gang at the table.

It was getting late and the nuns had strict rules in their Albergue, everyone had to be in their bed by 10.30. I showed the gang where to check-in for a bed and then I headed off to find my own bed. It was a busy Albergue with close on 100 people staying that night. It wasn’t your typical Albergue with dorm rooms and bunk beds but rather huge, big rooms with polished wooden floors and massive ceiling high windows and everyone had their own single bed all well-spaced out, 22 beds to a room. The nuns came around to each room to say goodnight with a short prayer, well I’m guessing that’s what they were saying as none of them spoke English, and I only have a tiny bit of Spanish. It was a funny situation, especially being slightly tipsy after a few drinks in town, but I slept well that night.

Day 13 Carrión to Sahagún 39.8km

With the flat terrain in this area, it was easy to clock up the km’s. Today was a big day. It was an early start to beat the hot sun as I had a long stretch of about 12km with no shops or water stops. Peter, the Spaniard came along with me. He was struggling, he felt sick, and his head was spinning. He decided to stop for a while until his stomach settled enough so he could eat some food that he brought along with him. He insisted I carry on without him. At this point I felt uncomfortable leaving him, but he insisted that he will be fine. Once I knew he was safe and I knew the others, Oliver, Mel, Michael, and Christian, were coming behind and he’ll probably join them, I carried on alone. That evening, I began to struggle myself, my legs were in a lot of pain. Because the land in this area was so flat I could see the town of Sahagún, where I’ll be staying that night, ahead in the distance, but it seemed to never get any closer. Eventually though I made it and my accommodation for the night was a museum. There was bunk beds upstairs in the museum that overlooked a concert hall. That evening, I befriended an English woman, and we went out for our pilgrim meal in town. Upon return we were treated to a concert by the Manchester Concert Band who were touring the area. While the locals took to their seats to watch the concert, we enjoyed the concert from the comfort of our bunkbeds. It was one of those experiences that could never have been planned.

Ultan Cavanagh