Camino De Santiago: Day 16 Calzadilla de los Hermanillos to Mansilla de las Mulas

It was cold and windy leaving Calzadilla and I can't say that I was all that sad to say good bye to the place. The best part about the morning though, was that the sun came out! It had stormed virtually every day during Semana Santa and even gotten a bit cold, so it was nice to finally see some sunshine. 

Leaving Calzadilla

Day 16 was a continuation of the previous split in the Camino. The route that I had chosen took you along the Calzada Romana, or the old Roman road. It was full of wide open fields and I only saw a grand total of 2 other pilgrims until the end of the day.

Sign telling you it's prohibited to bathe in the water because it's contaminated (as if you needed to be told not to swim in that...)

Oh yeah, and the Calzada Romana was also full of mud. 

Nonetheless, it was beautiful. It was always exciting when you could really see the landscape start to change--the mountains were starting to appear in the distance. 

Alongside the trail were all of these irrigation ditches. Because of all the heavy rainfall they were overflowing and all you could hear was the sound of rushing water. That might sound atmospheric, but it was exasperating a problem--I needed to pee. There were no towns at all along the trail for day 16 which meant no coffee and no bathrooms. This might not sound like a big problem to you, but I am not a pee-in-the-woods kind of girl. And did you see the picture above? There were no trees for miles. On top of that, the Madrid railway was running alongside the trail. I knew as soon as I broke down a train would come racing through. 

But you know what? I broke down. I couldn't take the sound of all that water. I peed in "the woods" (on the plain is more like it...) for the very first time. And, thankfully, there was no train!

A little bit further along the mud just started getting ridiculous. I was wading through it, hopping along in a futile attempt to choose the less muddy patches of mud, when almost falling over I just started laughing--in the middle of the Meseta, covered in mud, all by myself. The whole thing was ridiculous--peeing out in the middle of a wide open field hoping a train doesn't race by, wincing with pain every other step (it was suggested in Calzadilla that I see a doctor), and now falling over as I tried to avoid the avoidable mud. 

After having a good laugh about it all I was in much better spirits. It was actually a turning point for me. And, now that I was ready to appreciate it, the rest of the trail held some truly spectacular vistas. 

Helped perhaps by the solitude you could really feel the history of the place as you walked over it. Thousands of people have continually walked this very path since Roman times or before. 

OK...and there was still a lot more mud. I found this arrow to be amusing...I had to be very creative to get around this pond. 

At some points things even started to look a bit like Asian rice paddies. I found the reflections of the clouds to be particularly spectacular.  

Finally a few trees!

Not only can you watch the landscapes change as you walk across the regions of Spain, you can also tell  where you are by watching the change in graffiti indicating which region of Spain is upset or wants to succeed. Up until then I didn't even know that Leon had a beef with the system. 

Ah, and finally Mansilla! I walked in the last bit with my friends from Valencia after spotting the husbands (next picture) rolling cigarettes and waiting by the side of the road. 

They left me there because my plans were to catch a bus the rest of the way into Leon. My guidebook had said that the entrance to Leon from Mansilla was the worst of the entire Camino including a dangerous bridge. After the unpleasant experience walking in through the industrial waste and suburbs of Burgos, I was seriously contemplating the "frequent buses" that left from Mansilla straight to Leon. 

Also, as stubborn as I am, I was willing to concede that my swollen ankle was not looking good. I actually went to the doctor's office in Mansilla where I was told they treated pilgrims for free (even though I knew they would just tell me to ice it and stop walking 20 miles a day on it...) but it was closed. When I made it to the bus station it turned out that "frequent" was a bit of a stretch--there were no more buses for the day.

I walked to the hostel, still unsure of what to do. I could take a taxi into Leon straight away that afternoon--so I would already be in Leon to see the Easter morning processions the next morning, or I could take a taxi the next day, Easter morning, into Leon...or, my stubbornness kicking in, I could just suck it up (or...drug it up) and walk in the brief hike the next day.

Decision making is not my strenght when I am at my best, but by the end of the long day I really couldn't make up my mind. I was polling my friends at the albergue, and decided I would go ask the volunteer running the hostel what she thought. By that point I was leaning towards staying for the night but unsure whether to walk or taxi the next day. As I went to the reception area the door of the hostel opened and almost hit me. I couldn't believe who it was! It was my retired Sevillan friend Juanma. I hadn't seen them since Burgos when I left for Cantabria. I thought they would be days ahead of me, but walking so fast, I had caught them. I saw him and his wife Maica, and it sealed the deal for me--I would stay the night.

Right after that I saw my friend Sylvia from Germany (whom I also hadn't seen for days) from the window and knew that with so many friends here it was the right choice to stay. On top of that Sylvia offered me a place in their shared taxi for the next morning to Leon--we would split the cost and be there in time to see all of the Easter morning activities.

Almost sold, but still feeling like maybe I should walk (which looking back seems ridiculous!), my friend Maica told me--I think your year long sabbatical deserves a day of sabbatical. I was sold!

Next stop--Leon!

(Ha, and it was also at this albergue where I met a Spanish guy who, when I introduced myself, said, Ooooh, you're the Texan! I'm still confused as to what and how he heard about me!)

Camino De Santiago: Day 14 and 15-Carrion de los Condes to Terradillos de los Templarios to Calzadilla de los Hermanillos

Wow. That title is a mouthful!

I'm breaking Camino post tradition here on the blog by combining two days. Why? Because for some reason I have no pictures from these days! I remember that my camera stopped working at one point in the Camino, but I thought it was further along. Who knows.

Anyway, these days were much like the previous days on the Meseta--long, wet and flat. Day 14 included an 18 km stretch with absolutely nothing but fields. This meant that you had extra weight in your pack as you had to make sure you were carrying enough water and food with you. The weight was one thing, but honestly, the worst was just not having any kind of natural break in the walk. It was surprisingly mentally taxing. Somehow we also made the discovery that while climbing up and down hills is hard on the heart and lungs, constantly pounding the flat pavement is really tough on the joints. The ankles were feeling it.

Nevertheless, it we made the best of it. I walked the first part of it alone, but then joined up with The Irish Teachers and my Parisian Friend to walk the rest of the way. With great company and the lunch I packed--consisting of my left over pina y curry salad and ripe strawberries--we made it through the 18 km stretch without too much complaining.

When we finally made it in to Terradillos we had another Camino first--the albergue was full. This apparently happens quite a bit in the summer, but we had yet to experience a full albergue. Even though it was still early in the season, lots of people were out walking just for their Easter holidays. Luckily we encountered my Korean friends walking back out of town who let us know that it was full. This saved me the trouble of walking into the town and back, and we just stayed at the private hostel right outside of town. We camped out there for the night--it poured all evening so we had dinner at the restarant in the hostel. I ate with my German friend Christian (who was on a mission to teach us German words--ja genauuu!) and a Korean American (who is the winner of most interesting job I encountered on the Camino--he was a graphic designer for the Vatican!).

When planning the next day on the trail (basically what we did every evening after supper), we realized that the albergue in the town we planned to stay in only had about 20 beds. When we calculated that the rather big albergue in town was full, and that ours had plenty of people as well, we decided we had better start early to make sure we had a place to sleep at the next stop. At 5:30 I as up, and I was off by 6! (Definitely another Camino first!)

Should I say it again? It was a long, wet day (are we seeing a trend?). It had rained so much overnight that we had to leave from a side door because the front was all flooded! I stopped for breakfast in the next town (because believe me, finding a cafe open at 6 in a Spanish town is a futile search!) and found my Korean friends. We walked together most of the morning. It was so rainy that we made frequent stops...so I am not sure it really did us that much good to start so early! We waded through mud and water, and the ugly town of Saghun. By this point I had started (lovingly) referring to the Camino as the Rio (river) de Santiago. Soon after that we split as I realized walking slowly with them (my friend Jaeky  is tiny and has to take lots of tiny steps) was actually causing me more pain rather then less. I figured if every step was going to be painful I might as well take big ones and just get myself to town.

I finally made it into the one-street town of Calzadilla de los Hermanillos, found the municipal hostel and asked (in hope) if they had any beds left.

I was the first one there. All that hurry for nothing! This was another section of the Camino where you had two choices in routes, except here, the routes would not meet back up for a couple days. I thought most people would chose this way, but I was wrong. In the end only a few more people showed up--my Korean friends, my French friend (who had the sense to stay in a nicer place in town), and...the weird Norwegian guy! I met some Valencian people on the way, but they chose to go on to the next town to sleep (they were only walking for the week, so were ready to tackle a little more than the rest of us).

In the end the Albergue was super basic--less than twenty beds, temperamental hot water and only a gas stove to heat it. The French volunteer running it was a bit strange, but she had the place clean and fixed me up with an ice pack, so I didn't complain. It was Good Friday, so I made my way down to the church in town to check out Good Friday Spanish style.

Verdict? It was kind of strange. It was very "small town" and after the first part of the service they went into a portion that reminded me of the wake scene in the movie Volver. The chanting was almost like bees humming. After a bit, I said some prayers, shuffled my way back to the albergue, took some ibuprofen and tucked in for the night. 

Lake Ohrid

In the Week In Review I mentioned that I wasn't a huge fan of Skopje, Macedonia. Ohrid, though? Different story.

Lake Ohrid is going onto my list of happy places. I was just going to stay a couple of nights then settled on 3. Then I added two more. I've now been here a week. Honestly, I could stay longer, too.

There are tons of churches to visit and fortresses to climb, but the real draw of Ohrid for me was just drinking coffee while taking in the views and lounging in the water.

One of the beautiful frescoed churches (of which there were at one time 365). The frescos were interesting both artistically and theologically--including the Trinity portrayed as a three headed woman and a vegetarian last supper scene. 

I just so happened to be there during the regional folk dance festival. Attempts to take photos largely failed, but it was so much fun to watch!

This picture was taken from a cafe perched right on the edge of the water. Not a bad view for the price of a $1 latte.  

Ancient theatre

These flowers seem impossible. I saw some on the Camino and they seemed just as incredible this time around. 

View from the fortress

This tiny chapel was tucked right into the cliff. The caretaker inside insisted that I dip myself some of the holy water from the little cave in the back. 

The choices she gave me were to either drink it or to wash my face with it. I chose to dab it on my face (and gave the rest of it to the hydrangeas...which must be really holy)

Sveti Sofja--supposedly modeled ater Haggia Sofia in Istanbul although I couldn't see the correlation. It had some great frescos nonetheless. 

There was an old fashioned paper making shop in town. We stopped in and they let us make our own paper (I always loved this kind of stuff) and then showed us their printing press--its an exact replica of the original Gutenberg press (of which there are apparently only 2 of in all of Europe). I ended up buying my very first souvenir of my entire trip here. 

The view from my room in Ohrid at dusk

The view a ways up in the village of Elshani where I am currently residing. It's almost 3,000 feet above sea level and has a million dollar view of the lake (yeah, my pictures can't do it justice!). 

Lovely all around. Tomorrow I'm headed away from the lake and making my way to Albania. I'm excited about being there, but something tells me the getting there (even though I am almost at the border right now) is going to be a very interesting ordeal. We will see!

Camino De Santiago: Day 13-Boadilla to Carrion de los Condes

Day 13 was an experiment in choosing the path less traveled. Midway through the day you had two choices--go along the highway, which I believe was a little shorter, or go through the woods alongside the river. Surprisingly most everyone chose the highway so I had the river path almost all to myself. 

The day was rainy, but started out following the surprisingly beautiful Canal de Castilla. 

Animo!

I was surprised when we got to a set of locks. It was no Panama Canal, but it was fun. 

I remember that right after this sign we entered a small town which had a) an ATM, b) a cafe, and c) (the most important) a pharmacy--with everything a pilgrim could ask for (otherwise known as bandaids in every shape and size!)

Arrows also came in every shape and size

A little while after the paths split I came across this man named Pepe (who is apparently a Camino legend...something I didnt know about until later). He had a basket of candy and offered me a piece. I was a little skeptical of random old men with candy but a Spanish father came by with his two kids and he let them take a piece, so I figured it was ok. I leaned on my walking stick as he told me stories and nuggets of wisdom. (It also was a stark reminder that even if you stop for 2 minutes your blisters will ACHE when you start again.)

He had a pilgrim stamp, but I was too lazy to take off my pack, remove the rain cover and dig out my credentials. He wouldn't let me pass, so I agreed that he could stamp my hand. He said it would protect me. After the near death by lightening experience the day before I figured it couldn't hurt. 

And what do you know? The clouds started looking menacing again. 

I was thankful that there were at least taller things than me on the horizon this time. Either way, I was trying to walk as fast as possible to avoid the coming storm. 

Unfortunately after this point the signage got a bit tricky. I missed a somewhat hidden arrow and had to follow a small road for what seemed forever. It wasn't bad, but with the storm at my back I wasn't exactly up for walking extra kilometers. 

I finally made it to the town where my path merged back with the highway path. 

The rest of the way to Carrion turned out to be interesting...

Because right after I took this picture I started getting pelted in the head with hail. Yes, hail. I was soooaked to the bone. I thought about running, but then you look up and realize, where are you gonna run?

I was not amused. 

But finally I made it to Carrion de los Condes! The long day on the trail--filled with storms and hail--would all be soothed away when I got to my albergue filled up with tiny Benedictine nuns bustling around like hospitality fairies. Yeah. In the end there was only a random twenty-something year old guy. Decidedly not a nun. 

Eh. Anyway, they had a nice cathedral and the pilgrim mass was a nice experience. The picture above is of a famous facade in town. I ended up having a nice conversation with the non-nun hospitalero, got to know a group of young Irish teachers, shared a dinner of pina y curry salad with my Parisian friend, and ran back into my two South Korean friends whom I hadn't seen since Burgos. So all in all, I'll call it a win.