Thursday, May 17, 2012
Queridos amigos,
A bar in Spain is much more like a British pub than an American bar or beer joint. People bring their children, breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served at many, and they probably serve as much coffee and Coca-cola as alcoholic drinks.
A few days ago I was paying my bill at a bar and a bedraggled woman came in and talked with the bartender. She told me she was Swiss and would probably have to cancel her Camino. I asked if it were her feet. She said no, she was just feeling very sick, probably something she ate.
Last night as I dined outdoors in Belorado, she walked by. I called to her, and asked if she were feeling better. She said only a little, and that because she was only eating bread and water. She was rail thin, but said she planned to continue on to Santiago de Compostela. True grit. If the Scots don’t take over the world, the Swiss may have to do it for them. I told her that if I see her in Santiago I’ll buy her dinner. She laughed and went on her way.
Trying to find hotels has led to a change in itinerary. Today and tomorrow have had shorter walks, which is certainly easier. Once again, beautiful rolling hills, spiced with fields of rape.
Fields of Wheat and Rape
And a Surprising Field of Lavender
For the last several days I have seen these vast green fields and thought they were wheat. Upon closer inspection, there was no grain on them, just nice long leaves about a half-inch wide.
I stopped at one tiny village and asked a woman and a young man what the crop was. They said wheat, but a particular kind of wheat. Hard to accept that, so I asked another woman 60 yards on, and we talked about it. She said it was wheat for animals, which is to say, hay. Looks nothing like the hay in Texas. All this hay, and no animals in sight.
As I arrived at the outskirts of Villafranca, I saw a car pulled off the road, doors open, engine running. A young man was trying to photograph a young woman; both were smoking. I assumed he was taking her photo against a brilliant rape field background, and asked if he would like me to take a picture of them both.
No, he explained, she was doing the Camino a bit at a time, and she wanted him to take her picture with me! So we posed by a waymarker. I asked to take the same picture with my camera, which he did. Then they returned to the car, still smoking the same cigarettes, and as they passed me, honked five times and waved. Funny encounter.
A Different Kind of Pilgrim
The last several computers Ive (please note this computer does not make apostrophes) used do not have slots for camera cards. Im anxious to upload them before something happens to them.
Tomorrow the only logical place to stay is Atapuerca, a tiny spot in the road that has one albergue and one casa rural. I called the casa rural and was told they were booked up. However, the proprietor offered an interesting alternative. If I arrive at the casa rural at 4 tomorrow afternoon, he will drive me out to a place in the country which can accommodate me. I ask what happens the next day. He said he will fetch me and return me to Atapuerca. I agree; it promises to be an interesting evening. And a long haul into Burgos the next day.
And thats my news from Villafranca Montes de Oca.
Un abrazo para todos,
John
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