Camino Frances

I shared my communal meal last night with a Dutch couple in their late seventies who are doing their fourth Camino and an elderly American couple from Colorado who live an isolated existence in a log cabin by a lake, having sold their business importing jumpers from Nepal. Am I now elderly? Looking around the dining room last night, the answer is probably yes.   The couple from Colorado spent just the right amount of time issuing the now routine apologies for their beloved leader, as did a rather amusing ex American Naval military intelligence officer who was in the bunk opposite me last night. He too had an interest in the Peninsula war and the extent to which the successes of Arthur Wellesley, later the Duke of Wellington, led to the weakening of Napoleon’s forces and thus his ultimate defeat.   When I got up to go this morning it was pissing down. It made the decision of whether to continue on yesterday’s unbelievably horrid, narrow, rocky path or simply walk down the road ...

Last night’s albergue, La bohème, is what’s called a donativo. There are no fixed fees for these places, you just give a donation when you leave. Typically run by free spirits who have committed themselves to a pilgrim's way of life, David, originally from Brittany, was an incredible host.  Whilst his place was pretty random, nothing was too much trouble, he made everyone’s bed, did all the laundry and was happy to dispense his views on the meaning of life for anyone who wanted to listen. All the beds were in an attic room, I had one of two enormous double beds, everyone else were in bunks arranged around the edges of the room. Downstairs the dinning room had beer and wine on tap and the evening meal when it eventually came, consisted of enormous quantities of lentils and couscous, on reflection, perhaps not the best evening to be packed in a dormitory. Leg felt alright this morning so set off with full pack for a day in the mountains. There has been a thin, dark line of hills grow...

I’m not one to believe in miracles, but as I’m on a pilgrimage, I wouldn’t entirely rule out the possibility. From not being able to walk last night, the pain in my shin had abated by morning and what with sending my pack onwards, as opposed to having to carrying the bloody thing, today’s 17 miles was really pretty comfortable. I suspect this had more to do with ‘Saint’ Sofia, the elderly pharmacist in Hospital de Orbigo who strapped my leg and sold me a plethora of pills and potions, than any divine intervention, but either way I’m most grateful. It felt like the first proper day of summer today. Clear blue skies and temperatures close to 30 degrees replaced the grey of recent days. Spent the morning chatting to an Irishman who’s been working for the ECB and is about to start a new role with the Irish Central Bank. He’s using the Camino to escape from his concerns about the state of the world in general, and about AI specifically. We found an Irish pub in Astorga and decided the world...

So, left  León bright and early for a pretty  dull 20-mile day as the path tracked along the main road nearly all the way to Hospital de Órbigo, my destination for today.   Rather a nice medieval place where in the 16th century the Knights Hospitaller established a pilgrim hospital, and thus the name. Staying somewhere with ‘Hospital’ in the name is strangely appropriate as something’s gone a bit wrong with my leg, I’m told it’s likely to be shin splints and it’s bloody agony, so not sure what’s going to happen now as walking is a bit of a problem. Went along to a nice woman at the pharmacy who has given me straps and drugs. Also, I think I’ll take advantage of the transfer service tomorrow that takes your pack onto your next destination, rather than you having to carry it. I’ll take my own body weight in painkillers as well and we’ll see what happens.  Great Albergue this evening and a lovely communal meal with a delightful woman and her daughter from Bermuda and a ...

  Short hop today into León , just 19Km, which is probably a good thing after a night on the oldest and most lumpy mattress in Christendom. My hostel here is within the old city walls but as I can’t get in until two, I think a spot of lunch and a wander around the cathedral is probably in order. Why I wonder, do I feel such a connection with these places? Whilst I’m not a religious man in the conventional sense, these places do transport me. To a simpler age perhaps, an age of different values. I can sit for hours in here and just let the calm descend. This place was built mainly in the 13th century and is an extraordinary example of Gothic architecture, similar to the great cathedrals of France. Famous for its magnificent stained-glass windows, it was an important religious and cultural symbol of the Kingdom of León and a key landmark for pilgrims travelling the Camino. I wandered down to the hostel for 14:00 and found a Frenchman trying to get in. After a certain amount of swear...

  We were certainly tightly packed last night, sixteen of us on eight bunks in a comparatively small room at the Albergue in Bercianos del Real Camino; a night of varied smells and noises and almost impossible to get to the bathroom. Excellent dinner though with the usual gang plus a rather nice landscape gardener from Glastonbury and a retired financier from Hong Kong. This chap was brought up under British rule but is quite an advocate for the Chinese system - interesting to chat to as I get into my ‘China after Mao’ tome. My final day on the Meseta today as tomorrow I get into León, so long flat path tracking along the road with little to look at apart from the odd mural. Strangely, the bathroom at the hostel in Mansilla de las Mulas had a bath. So, as I was first there, the sociopath in me decided to lock the door and climb in, oblivious to the pathetic taps on the door from fellow pilgrims, desperate to clean their teeth - I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunity for me to a...

Albergue Los Templarios was excellent, huge stone sinks in the garden for doing your washing, decent food (lots of good red wine) and I ended up sharing a room with a nice Argentinian Departed Terradillos de Templarios bright and early, for what turned out to be a fairly dull, grey sort of day with the path following a main road most of the way. Stopped at the village of San Nicolás del Real Camino for coffee and croissant but other than that spent the day wandering along educating myself on ‘China after Mao’. Checked into the hostel at Bercianos del Real Camino and I discover my gang (Irishman, American and Brit) are staying in the same place, should be a good evening…