Day 9, September 2: Santo Domingo de la Calzada to Belorado (22 km; 5:20)

Since it was Sunday, a day of rest, we decided to make it a short day of only 22 kilometres. It was another perfect day for walking.

The citizens of Viloria de Rioja, the birthplace of Santo Domingo, made sure that peregrinos wouldn’t get lost. 359. A plethora of arrows pointing the way to Viloria de Rioja.

On the outskirts of Belorado I ran into a lady from Spain with flaming red hair that I had been seeing on and off for a week. She was ending her walk in Burgos the next day but planned to continue the Camino next year. Regretfully, I never found out her name.

363. Our mystery lady with flaming red hair
By 1:30 in the afternoon I was sitting in the beautiful garden of the Albergue Cuatro Cantones (Four Corners), drinking German beer while listening to the haunting CD “This Embrace” by Kirtana http://www.kirtana.com/kirtana.html . The albergue even had a small in ground swimming pool. 365. Peaceful garden at the Albergue Cuatro Cantones in Belorado


366. Listening to Kirtana in this lovely garden. It doesn’t get better than this on the Camino!
It turned out to be festival time in Belorado. The main square was full of people, many of whom were dressed in identical “uniforms” that apparently designated organizations in the community. They were socializing, while waiting for the entertainment that was to start later in the evening. 373. The chartreus team at the Belorado Festival alternated between performing and spectating.

375. setting the stage in the main square.376. More of the performer/ spectator teams.

377. Ditto. Note the uniforms. The menu de peregrinos at one of the restaurants facing the square consisted of a paella starter followed by fried veal and ice cream for dessert. As usual, the eight euro price included all the red wine we could consume.

We had just settled in for the night when all hell broke loose. Loud music from the main square which was about a block away hammered the albergue. Unlike Larrasuana, the music continued until 5 in the morning, at which time one of the local drum and bugle bands marched right by the albergue while playing and drumming with gusto. We got an early start that morning.

Day 10, September 3: Belorado to Atapuerca (30 km; 7:00)

The party in the streets was still in full swing when we left the albergue. Once again it was cool and cloudy which made for comfortable walking.

Between Villafranca Montes de Oca and San Juan de Ortega, there was a long stretch through a pine forest with spectacular stretches of pink and purple heather. It was a visual delight.

387. Field of heather

389. The seemingly endless rocky trail

At one of the small towns a van selling fresh bread pulled up. This is a common way for those living in small hamlets and villages to get staples and groceries. Bread, fish, meat and vegetables can be purchased from these “mobile stores”. I bought a loaf of bread that was at least two feet long and when Janos and Krisztina joined me a bit later, we ate the whole thing!

Atapuerca was a minor stop along the Camino until the 800,000 year old bones belonging to a new human species, “homo antecessor”, were discovered in the nearby hills in the 1970s.

398. Nearing Atapuerca
Although the museum was very educational, I was more interested in finding a restaurant where we could celebrate Lo’s birthday. We lucked out! The only restaurant of quality served a superb four-course dinner with wine for 12 euros each. The more expensive than usual fee was no doubt because the restaurant was mentioned in the Michelin guide. There were many toasts to Lo!

405. Any excuse for aparty! This time, toating Lo's birthday.

Day 11, September 4: Atapuerca to Tardajos (29 km; 7:15)

This was a somewhat sad day as the three of us decided to split up. Janos wanted to spend an extra day in Burgos to let his feet and legs heal and to do some sightseeing and Krisztina wanted to slow down the pace. So, they chose to stop in Burgos, 20 kilometres away, and I carried on to Tardajos, nine kilometres beyond. We hadn’t really been walking together in the traditional sense. Everyone had their own walking pace but we met regularly during the day to rest and eat, and always stayed at the same albergue. We agreed to email each other along the way and to meet in Finisterre in front of the church at noon on September 25.

From Atapuerca we climbed steadily to the flat-topped summit of the Sierra de Atapuerca where one can see Burgos and the flat Meseta (plains or moors) that stretches endlessly west of the city. At the summit we added three stones to the steadily growing spiral of rocks on the ground.

407. The flash doesn't do justice to the size. It's huge. These stone circles are about two feet apart.
At Villaval there was an amusing cartoon that someone had been painted on a wall.

408. Am amusing caracicature of an atypical pilgrim. Most of us tried very hard to keep our backpacks close to 20 pounds though I, for one, didn't quite manage that.
The long walk through the suburbs of Burgos was unpleasant due to the industrial areas, and dangerous because of the vehicle traffic whizzing by at 100 kilometres per hour or more. In retrospect, taking a local bus would have been preferable and safer. However, the old section of the city, dominated by the massive Gothic cathedral, is beautiful.

411. City square in Burgos with the cathedral peaks in the background

415. Burgos cathedral.

We had a pleasant walk on the promenade along the Rio Arlanzon to the albergue.

418. Picturesque Rio Arianzon.

We took a last picture at some old ruins and then parted ways, not knowing whether or not we would see each other again.

421. Unnamed medieval ruins. Oh, and me.
As I was getting a little short of money I decided to get some from a bank machine on the outskirts of Burgos. It chose not to accept my debit card, so I decided to carry on to Tardajos where, once again, I was unable to get my card to work. Finally I tried using my MasterCard. The debit machine accepted it, but the transaction was aborted when I was unable to supply a password.

424. Stone relief at Tardajos.

At the albergue I took stock of my financial situation – I had 115 euros, enough to last about a week if I was careful. My wine consumption was about to come to a screeching halt!

The computer in the albergue was not working, nor was there an email cafe in the town. So I needed to get to a larger town with email availability to contact Lo to try to straighten out my financial problem.

Day 12, September 5: Tardajos to Castrojeriz (30 km; 6:00)

It was cold enough to see my breath when I left at 6:25 am and the sky was brilliant with stars. After a few kilometres I reached a rise and from the top I saw the seemingly endless flatness of the Meseta.

427. The meseta beckons. But not in a good way.However, it really isn’t continuously flat; the terrain is periodically broken by deep valleys with a town at the bottom, and, of course, the inevitable steep climb on the other side. Hontanas, where I stopped for lunch was a typical example.

431. Approach to Montanas.
Midway between Hontanas and Castrojeriz are the spectacular ruins of the Convent of San Anton. The Camino, as well as the highway, go right through the ruined church.

436. Ruins of the Convent San Anton. Soon after, the ruined fortress overlooking Castrojeriz came into view. I felt really good and would have liked to continue walking, but the need to resolve the issue of my dwindling financial resources was paramount.

442. ApproachingCastrojeriz
After a couple of hours of emailing back and forth with Lo, she managed to resolve the issue and shortly after, flush with cash I decided to celebrate by climbing to the fortress. It was worth the effort; I could see forever in every direction.

450. Looking eastward from the ruined fortress.

455. View of Castrojeriz looking down from the fortress.

After dinner I shared a bottle of Rioja with several peregrinos; a young American man from Boston who had started in Toulouse, a young lady from Holland who was walking for only three days and was returning home the next day, and three German ladies who were having a great time doing 15-20 km per day with the intent to make it all the way to Santiago. They may still be walking!

I slept really well that night.

Day 13, September 6: Castrojeriz to Poblacion de Campos (29 km; 6:05)

By 2:00 pm, I had arrived at the albergue in Poblacion de Campos. I showered and washed my clothes, had a beer at a local bar, and shopped for bread, sausage, and the inevitable bottle of Rioja. This albergue was a converted school house with 22 beds and a kitchen. The fee was by donation. Sadly, they would accept neither my half-drunk bottle of wine nor my witty banter as payment, so I was forced to part with some of my hard-won Euros.

478. Schoolhouse converted to Albergue

After 6:00 pm, only a trickle of peregrinos come into the albergue and this evening there were only eight of us, including Ken from Saskatoon, and two German ladies. We decided to pool our resources for dinner. The pasta with tomato, onion, mushroom and chorizo tasted great - despite Anna mistaking bicarbonate of soda for salt!

479. Another delightful meal with great dinner companions. We had a bit of fun as Ken got a new wig.

480. Nice hair!
When I left Castrojeriz it was barely above freezing. A tuque, gloves and thermal underwear would have been appreciated. Immediately after leaving, I began a steep climb to the Alto de Mostalares. From the top and looking back it was easy to see how the fortress dominated Castrojeriz and the surrounding valley. 463. Looking back to Castrojeriz

466. Puente de Itero with my shadow in the foreground
A few kilometres down the path I crossed over an 11-arch bridge, the Puente de Itero and then followed a canal to Fromista, a large town tucked in the middle of what was once the breadbasket of the Roman Empire. Along the canal I passed two ladies from Norway, as was apparent from the flags on their backpacks. “Har det bra” (Have a good day), I said in Norwegian as I went by.

Despite having a Canadian flag prominently displayed on my backpack I have been frequently asked, “Are you from Canada”? “No, I’m an Aussie in disguise” is what I would have liked to reply, but there was no way that I would get the accent right.

Day 14, September 7: Poblacion de Campos to Ledigos (38 km; 7:05)

Taking the scenic, tree-lined path along the Rio Ucieza rather than the gravel path along the highway added about two kilometres to what was going to be the longest day of walking to date. I didn’t see another person until rejoining the main trail about two hours later. The sun coming up behind me and the sounds of the birds and the river flowing beside me made it a glorious walk.

From Carrion, an impressive medieval city, there was an almost endlessly straight and treeless stone path (17 kilometres) until I reached the tiny, one-street village of Calzadilla de la Cueza, tucked into a depression in the Meseta.

490. The entire village of Calzadilla de la Cueza

The only exception to the featureless landscape was a mobile bar an entrepreneur had set up near the halfway point. I gladly paid his inflated price for a beer and a cola.

488. Strange location, but very welcome little bar in the middle of nowhere.

In the heat, the six kilometres to Ledigos seemed to take hours; however, after a rest, a shower, and some cold drinks with Ian from Middleborough, England, all was well. This marked the halfway point to Santiago.

491. Seven peregrinos from six countries resting their eweary feet in Ledigos.

493. Ian from Middleborough.

Day 15, September 8: Ledigos to El Burgo Ranero (36 km; 7:10)

The Camino guide books speak of the haunting beauty and the huge skies of the Meseta. In reality it is hot, dry, windy, desolate, and seemingly endless. Although mostly flat, it is dotted with inhabited valleys and depressions - a bit like walking across Saskatchewan. For this reason some peregrinos choose to bypass this section of the Camino.

The only city of substance between Burgos and Leon is Sahagun.

498. Sahagun from 5 km away

On the approach, I detoured briefly to view the pilgrim bridge and Virgen del Puente Chapel, 499. Pilgrim bridge at Virgen del Puente

500. ... and chapel

then found a park across from the Iglesia de San Tirso where I ate my lunch. This church was a good example of the brick construction that is necessitated by the lack of stone in this part of Spain.

507.

To the left of the park was an exquisite city gate, the arch of San Benito, which was originally the facade of a monastery dating back to the 12th century.

506. Arch of San Benito

About an hour later I reached Calzada de Coto, where there is a choice of two routes. I was persuaded to stick to the main route by a Spanish couple whom I had been seeing almost daily for almost two weeks.

509. took the left fork.

In hindsight they were right, as I would have had to walk a 22 kilometre section without any facilities the following day. Along the way I passed a man from Canada and a woman from Finland, who walked hand-in-hand. Love on the Camino!

510. My favourite candid Camino shot

The village of El Burgo Ranero was the only place to stop as it was a further 13 kilometres to the next albergue.

511. Private albergue at El Burgo Ranero
At the only local restaurant, I shared dinner with a man from Puerto Rico and a couple from Denmark. They served a great menu de peregrino consisting of soup, calamari, and ice cream.

Day 16, September 9: El Burgo Ranero to Leon (38 km; 7:30)

This was a long hot day, made no easier by the discovery that the only bar in Reliegos (after 13 kilometres of walking) was closed because it was Sunday – welcome to Spain! It was another six kilometres to Mansilla de las Mullas before I could have some coffee and croissants.

In this part of Spain there are underground bodegas. In some instances they are also used as homes.

513 The bodega chimneys are actually vents
The last town before reaching Leon is Arcahueja. There was a modern pilgrim rest stop as you entered the town, oddly decorated with an almost-new pair of hiking boots which someone had carefully placed up in the rafters. I later learned they had been left by Mark from Ireland, whom I met quite by chance a few days later and who forever endeared himself to me with a gift of some packets of Ibuprofen powder that provided enough pain relief from the tendonitis in my left leg to continue the Camino.

516. You can see Mark's hiking boots above the "agua potable" sign
The walk through the outskirts to Leon was similar to Burgos – uninteresting and dangerous, an unpleasant combination. At one point I was very nervously walking along the shoulder of a high speed 4-lane highway.

518. One of the dangerous highways along which I had to walk
The old city is delightful, with large open squares and narrow, winding streets.

526. The building with the spires in the background was designed by GAUDI

533. Main square by the cathedral

Like most European cities there are numerous sculptures and statues. One reminded me of a sculpture in downtown Red Deer.

535 A very contemporary sculpture.

537 All that's missing is a pigeon.

538 A more traditional pilgrim statue.
The albergue, a Benedictine Monastery, was a dump – dirty, noisy, poor facilities, with rows of creaky and uncomfortable bunk beds and as in many disreputable and tawdry inns there were uninvited guests – bedbugs. Overnighting in small towns and villages is far more pleasant. The only good thing about the albergue was that I met Markus from Germany. We would walk the remainder of the Camino together.