Camino de Santiago, part IV

"Go west, young man!" I'm not young and dw isn't a man but we continued west anyway.  We didn't walk the final three miles into Burgos, rather we caught a city bus in Villafria. The day was hot, dw was tired and foot-sore, and the description of the last bit of trail sounded unappealing. Since we would be taking a bus from Burgos to Leon the little bit into the city didn't matter. It's unlikely we would have been affected but later we heard one woman say some creep grabbed her boobs on that bit of trail, and several others said they really felt unsafe. I have no idea why that bit was so bad. It's the only part of the Camino where anyone reported anything similar. I imagine, at least for awhile, the pleasure in the walk was ruined for those women.

Burgos is a World Heritage City. The medieval old town is well preserved and the cathedral is a giant pile festooned with gargoyles, extra side altars, stairs and doors leading to a blank wall, cloisters stretching every which way, a giant silver "float" carried in religious parades -- pretty much every adornment you can imagine. El Cid and his wife are buried there. The marker on the floor is blocked off so no one can dance on his grave even if they want to. The marker is nondescript, I almost missed it on our first pass through the church. However the city makes up for that with it's statue. Perhaps the beard doesn't make the man, but it doesn't hurt. In the evening I half expected to see Charlton Heston's ghost lurking around, carrying an Uzi and looking noble. Then I realized he doubtless fancied himself as Moses, leading the ignorant and unwashed, so he wouldn't be hanging around Burgos.
     There's not much left of the original fortress, apparently the last bunch who conquered it also leveled it. About the only thing left is the foundation which still looks difficult to storm if you're only armed with a pike. In general, we enjoyed our afternoon and evening wandering around the city.

After just one night, we caught a bus to Leon. Riding the bus, the Meseta (the part we skipped) looked hot and shade free  -- apparently many peregrinos thought so because the bus was half full when we started and as we progressed more and more got on the bus until it was full when we got to Leon.
     Leon is another World Heritage City. It was originally a Roman Legion encampment (29 BC), hence the name. It is another city we enjoyed just wandering around looking at the buildings and assorted curiosities.  The cathedral is another wonder -- It's second only to Chartres for the size and splendor of it's stained-glass windows. It's also notable because it took 50 years to build, it started to collapse and it took another 50 years to re-engineer so it wouldn't collapse. There's a Gaudi building, modest and tame for him, a lovely river walk, bits of Roman walls and gates  --  in brief, another city where we agreed it would be worth spending a few days.

Two days later (including one 20 mile day) we made it to Astorga which is the best small (12,000) town on the camino. It is a tourist destination for locals as well as peregrinos. A small museum has 12  "floats"  carried by 24 or 32 men (a long pole on their shoulders) each with a religious theme (the crucifixion,  Madonna col Bambino, Mary on a Joseph-led donkey, etc.) several crosses for individuals to carry, long masts with flags and crosses -- all things to be carried in religious parades. Next to the museum is the remains of a roman house with a large floor mosaic still in situ. In other places are bits of the original roman walls and gates. There's a small plain 11th century church, now used as an art gallery.  The main cathedral is built with random colors of stone -- mostly tan, with a red steeple and bits of red and black stone spread around -- it's as if when building it the workmen would run out of tan, and then grab whatever was handy and stick it in, it's very odd.

     And the reason we rushed to get here and then spent an evening and morning looking around: the Gaudi designed Bishops Palace. Like most of Gaudi, it's a neo-gothic design replete with unusual details: oddly shaped arches, a pillar directly in front of a window, rain down-spouts that are just groves in a corner. The bishop was a friend of Gaudi's and to his credit he lived in it for only a few months (he thought it was too grand -- he was right) Now it's used as an art museum and the contents, for such a small town, are superb and sometimes unexplainable -- but the building itself is the real attraction.
     After dinner and after wandering around looking at the sights during our evening of arrival, we watched a Korean drum corps, led by a shaman (?) as they performed in the main plaza. A totally unexpected pleasure. They were good, they were fun, and they got us pumped for the last stretch.

WORD OF THE DAY:  "rechauffe"   of food -- reheated, made from leftovers. I always cook for two days: I plan for rechauffe food, that's because I'm not really interested in cooking on a daily basis.  Usually it's OK, but sometimes two days are a day-and-a-half too much.

BOOK OF THE DAY: Capital in the Twenty-First Century (Thomas Piketty) I admit it was tough sledding at times and I didn't actually read every word, but I read enough to get what he was saying: Concentration of wealth, such as we have now, is bad for the economy and bad for society. And "trickle-down economy" is a joke (As Will Rogers said: "Water trickles down. Gold stays in the first pocket it comes to.") Unfortunately the people who should read this book won't -- or if they do, they won't care. 

JOKE OF THE DAY: Little Willie quatrains were very popular around 1900; they had many authors.

Willie pushed his Aunt Elizer
Off a rock into a geyser.
Now he's feeling quite dejected,
Didn't get the rise expected.

Little Willie hung his sister,
She was dead before we missed her.
Little Willies always up to tricks,
Ain't he cute, he's only six.

Little Willie in one of his bright new sashes,
Fell in the grate and was burnt to ashes.
And now although the room grows chilly,
We haven't the heart to poke up Willie.    

And so it goes DJA




 

Camino de Santiago, part III

              So on we walked, and waited for a cool breeze
              And went without shade, and cursed the sun ---
--- So it doesn't quite scan --- But as we progressed, the afternoons were getting quite hot and dw in particular was bothered by the heat and increasingly by sore feet (not blisters particularly, but by some odd inflammation of her least toes) --- (dw: My "little toes". All of my toes are significant and while I have "little toes", I don't have "least toes".)

In any case, we walked on and at Los Arcos we learned a new (to us) art term: "horror vacui", in particular as it applied to the church interior. (literally: fear of empty space. In art, you can't put in too much detail)  Every, and I mean every, square inch of the interior was carved, painted or gilded and usually all three at once. It was amazing. We sat through the mass and at the start all of the lights were turned on: When the lights hit the gilded, giant retablo it was like being assaulted, suddenly the giant (30' X 50') polished wall, adorned with carvings, statues, paintings, pillars, angels, and saints shone with the supposed glory of heaven -- which was the intent of course. It was amazing. After the mass all of the peregrinos attending (about 30) got a special blessing and then got to go backstage into the vestry. -- One of the few times we really regretted not understanding Spanish. -- The priest showed us and explained some paintings of good quality, and then behind giant double doors (6"X15'X10') -- the door locked with a 12 inch forged iron key -- he showed us relics of Mexico, Peru, Ecuador and of the Spanish Reconquista.  dw and I could understand enough to pick up names and dates but unfortunately that was all.  (mea culpa, we should have studied harder)

     Probably because Los Arcos gets few tourists apart from peregrinos, much of the church was open and we were able to enter the choir loft, sit in the ornately carved stalls, and get a close look at the psalters (they were protected with a glass cover). Because everything was so accessible, this church was as interesting as the larger cathedrals in such places as Pamplona or Burgos.

There were more vineyards at the western end of the walk, but in the middle section, wheat and sunflowers seemed to dominate. The sunflowers north of the path would seem to follow us -- it was amusing, and we (along with many others) brushed off part of the flowers to write our initials on the plants.

The wheat fields though were amazing. The wheat was already harvested, but the straw was baled and piled into giant stacks. The stacks were 40 or more feet high, 50 feet wide and a hundred feet long.  Great piles. (later I found the straw would be used for paper or bio-fuel or a few other things) We were puzzled by these stacks (and I wondered if there was a risk of spontaneous combustion, or arson -- we didn't see any signs of either one) It wasn't clear why the straw was piled instead of being left as bales spread around the field, but the heaps were useful to get behind for a quick whizz.

Still in the wine country, we did stop at the Monasterio Irache, just outside of Estella --- site of the famous wine fountain. And indeed, you can fill up whatever you want for free (people do seem to be somewhat restrained -- There wasn't any sign of 5 gallon carboys) Unfortunately we were there too early, the inside keg was nearly empty, and we just got a half-cup to share. Since it was just at dawn and we had another fifteen miles to walk it was a bit early to knock back a couple pints of red wine but it would have been nice to fill up one of our water bottles.
     As an aside, we thought the Spanish red wine (rioja) -- the vin ordinaire of this region --- was consistently very good and amazingly inexpensive.

 (the jackass in the black hat seemed to think he was being helpful)

Increasingly, dw was bothered by the heat and by her feet. For a few days, I stuffed as much of her load into my pack as I could. But it wasn't enough. Then we tried a carrying service (for a few dollars you can have a service pick up your pack, and deliver it to where you plan on stopping at the end of the day -- there are several companies that do it, including the postal service) I continued carrying my pack, but I did put some of my things into dw's pack.  Ultimately, we took a bus from Burgos to Leon, skipping the Meseta -- the hottest part of the walk. We weren't alone: the bus was half full, mostly with peregrinos when we started, and along the way more got on at each stop. By the time we arrived in Leon, the bus was full.
     Since I felt good I considered walking the Meseta section, but in the end that would have been cutting it too close for our departure date, and I wanted to spend some time in Santiago and Madrid which wouldn't have been possible had I walked. As it was, the time we had in those cities was less than we wanted.

Burgos is the end of Roland territory. The modest hill where he fought Ferragut is noted, surrounded by shabby farm stuff, and planted with a pole on top but there are no more carvings of his great unbreakable sword Durandal. Around Belorado poor Roland is put on his horse Veillantif and told to blow his horn Oliphant (loud enough to wake the dead) elsewhere because starting at Burgos El Cid is the hero of the day. 

POEM OF THE DAY: (Amanda McKittrick Ros) -- the author of what some consider the worse poetry ever written ---
ON VISITING WESTMINISTER ABBEY
Holy Moses! Take a look!
Flesh decayed in every nook.
Some rare bits of brain lie here.
Mortal loads of beef and beer.

HISTORICAL DATUM: In 1983 sacrilegious thieves stole Jesus' foreskin relic from the rectory in Calcata, Italy.   The case remains unsolved. 

WORD OF THE DAY: mallemaroking -- boisterous and drunken partying among sailors in extreme Northern waters. I would suggest anyone living in Sweden should be careful around mallemaroking sailors.                     And so it goes. DJA