02/06/07
I found a cafe open and had breakfast, bought some cake and bread then started out of town but suddenly remembered I was walking without my sticks! I went back and found them in the bakers.
Most peregrinos were gone as I now walked out of town over a bridge and remembered seeing the incredible storks on their high poll-top nests here before at sunset. I had been with Biel, another peregrino friend four years ago. We had seen them at dusk with the glorious red sun setting behind them. The storks had been making clacking noises and touching beaks and renewing their bond as they settled down for the night. This morning was quieter, the parents already gone for food, the young were looking for them to return.
I was enjoying this stroll and was going well and soon came to a road and over the other side was a tourist office. I remembered getting a stamp in my credential with Biel here and for old times sake I went in again. A pleasant girl put the stamp on the card and as I came out there were several peregrinos around a tall stone village cross that is so often marking the way. This one, like many, had a wide plinth that you could sit on and rest. I joined them drinking water from a nearby fountain and eating cake. I knew some of them but in the end I left alone. 
I took some nice photos in the old village and then I passed through Grañon. Well, I did stop for coffee and a splash of brandy, only for the feet of course! I noticed the church where last time I had hung wet washing in the belfry! It is used partly as an albergue. Crossing wheat fields, I came to Redecilla then by road to Castildelgado and on to Villamayor. It was 2 p.m. when I stopped in this tiny village to eat my lunch. Here was a fountain, three stone tables and benches and one had a little shady tree, not that shade was very necessary today, but it was sunny. Soon I was joined by a nice couple from Perth W.A. and a Spanish couple who they were travelling with. We swapped stories and shared some cheese. Some of the young Germans that I had met arrived as I was leaving. I plodded on to Belorado alone again and passed the Albergue as I came into town. I had walked 23 km and was tired but felt I could go on if I got some good food first. I asked some local folk where I could eat well and cheaply.
"There is a fiesta on, so go into the main square. There are plenty of places and even at this time of day you should find good food there."
The camino continued straight on and might have bypassed the town, so taking their advice I took a tiny street and soon found I was in the right place at the right time. Tents, colourful banners, buntings, flags and market stalls. Straw bales were everywhere and it was obvious there had been a lot of fun here, probably with the bulls but at the moment it was peaceful. I admired but resisted the cakes and yummy churos stalls. I then entered the big main square. More stalls, shops that spilled their wares onto the street, a big music stand with a band setting up and hundreds of people sitting outside bars and restaurants. People sat where they could and the many straw bales here were in use. I joined a couple of tourists sitting on some and asked if they had eaten in any of the restaurants but they hadn't. We chatted for a while then I left them to soak up the Spanish atmosphere and drink their beer and headed for the nearest bar. I had a job to get near the counter but a Spanish family spoke to me and moved so I could get closer to catch the barman's eyes. As I was still carrying my pack I had to tell where I was from, and my story up to arriving at Belorado. I did catch the barman's eye in the end, he told me to climb the staircase as the restaurant was up there. Saying goodbye to my new Spanish friends I went upstairs and opened the door. The place was packed and as far as I could see not a table free. Girls in traditional dress ran hither and thither with hot dishes. I stood for a few moments until one poor girl, sweat running into her eyes came to ask what I wanted.
"Table for one"
She raised her shoulders and gestured at the tables and rushed off again. Only one man occupied the table in front of me. He was eating but nearly finished.
"You are welcome to join me if you like" he said "I will soon be finished!"
I thanked him and lent my sticks against the wall, took a chair and unloaded my pack onto it then took another and sat down opposite him. He filled a glass from his bottle of red and pushed it my way.
"Gracias, salud" I gestured and with no problem we were soon deep in conversation. He had a stall in the first small square I had come too and was from a nearby town, and here selling his own cider.
"You must stop by before you go, try my cider"
I thanked him and said,
"I'll come and see you before I continue my camino, but I will have to refuse your kind offer of cider, because I drank cider in Oviedo last year and was warned not to mix it with the red. We are drinking red now!" I laughed. "Last time I had one glass and then the cider and was nursing a terrible head till lunchtime next day" I chuckled. The girl appeared and scribbled down my order. When she returned loaded with my dinner Jesus excused himself and left me to eat a rather large and good meal of veal and chips. I drank the last of his bottle of good red wine.
As I came out I met a table full of beer drinking and laughing peregrinos, who all knew me. They joked and wished me buen camino, especially when I said I was going on. I then went back to the first small square and found Jesus and we shook hands and wished each other well too, then I went back to the main plaza and crossed to the far corner and down a few streets till I saw the familiar arrows.
there was a superb old bridge with wide arches that I remembered from my last trip, there is now a wooden one alongside so the traffic doesn't remove any of the peregrinos before they have completed their spiritual journey! The locals prefer to give them a nice chance to photograph it instead! 
At this stage I would like to point out the camino, when it was a true track, was usually well maintained and often stones mixed with clay and rolled well. This gives a smooth sound footing without sharp bits sticking up to annoy your blistered feet and much better than asphalt that heats up in the sun. This French camino was generally much better than my Ebro camino to Logroño had ever been. The camino is walked by thousands of folk these days and getting more each year so naturally there are more albergues and the tracks are wider the well trodden. I liked but hated the changes. My body liked the changes but my eyes hated the disturbance of the old ways, the gracious old sagging buildings full of charm that suddenly have the front ripped out and new glass shop fronts put in! I do believe I was quite often sent a different way to that I had travelled four years ago at times.
I came to Tosantos and carried on. I could now see some tumble down buildings in the next village of Villambistia.
It jogged my memory back, I had been with Luke, my very first peregrino friend from America. It had been completely deserted. My feet hurt then and they were starting to do so again. I saw an albergue sign on the first house on the corner. It had been recently restored and I thought the old house looked inviting. I had, after all, done a good days walk, but the gentleman who answered the door said, when I asked for just a bed for the night,
"You have to have the evening meal it is a fixed price."
"But I have eaten a big meal and only want a bed surely that should be cheaper"
"No the same!"
I can be a funny person at times, the cost of the next albergue would be just two Euro less without the meal, in other words the meal was only two Euro but I wanted the choice whether to have it or not! I said goodbye and carried on! Leaving the village I toyed with the idea of camping but there was not a flat place anywhere for the tent and I had not enough water. I must keep going, the terrain was hilly and had been for some while. Espinosa del Camino had nothing.
I stopped at the top of a hill and looked down the valley and knew Villafranca Montes de Oca was down there somewhere just before the big hills. They were tomorrows challenge, I remembered that stop well! My problem was getting down there. My feet were burning!
I stopped and removed my socks and treated my feet as best I could then started down. An old ruin on my right, a tower probably in its time, remains of a monastery if my memory serves me right! I looked at it but there was a steel grill across the doorway so I could not shelter there and tall grass full of thistles stopped me camping outside it. The last part along the valley floor was awful, my body ached and my feet said stop at every pace but I knew I must keep going. At last I crossed the river and entered the small town remembering the albergue was a little way up the hill in front of me! I reached the door and the same dueña (boss lady) took my details and the ten or twelve Euro! I didn’t care now!
"Been here before" I said, "four years ago, looks just the same " I said jokingly.
"Oh no! Lots of changes" she assured me. I got the same dorm as before but a different bed! That all looked much the same but the showers were all brand new. They had been terrible before, the place had flooded with water all the time!
I hung out my washing on the lines provided under the roof of the old wagon shed in the yard at the back of the building. This yard was now concreted. This was where another peregrino friend Ralf had pitched his tent on my last visit, so he could sleep with his dog to stop it barking all night, something this kind lady thought was hilarious at the time! Yes things were different now I thought, 90% Germans for a start, the albergue was pretty full now and I was obviously in a bad mood. I had gone from no peregrinos to too many and was still having problems getting used to it.
I had a top bunk and soon crashed out there to sleep. I counted at least four other people doing the same. Six loud foreign people that spoke little English and no Spanish, come to that, were using the dorm like it was the local saloon. Talking very loud, laughing and having no respect for the others in the room who might be sleeping. You always look around to see who is sleeping and anyway never make such a noise in a dormitory. I put up with it for a while but I was tired, my patience snapped! I sat up and told them in English and Spanish to shut up! Go out side in the hall to talk if you must (there was table and chairs there).
The biggest guy was taken aback and swaggered over to this little old man sitting up in bed and asked in broken English what I said. Not thinking of my safety I told him plainly again! In both languages! The advantage of a top bunk became obvious because as big as he was I sat taller!
"Lights go out at ten we can make as much noise as we like till then and it's only eight o'clock!" he said loudly.
"That maybe but have some bloody consideration for others that have, like myself, walked thirty five kilometres today!" I countered.
Muttering about he would make as much noise as he liked till ten o'clock he rejoined his friends. While they never really shut up it took some of the fun out of their conversation and the riotous laughter was gone and we could get some rest!
I had met a number of people today but had walked always alone.
I lay there thinking;
Often peregrinos on camino say its like your whole life is squashed down into four or five weeks before your eyes.
Most, if asked, don't know why they walk it. I was wondering why the loudmouth guy did so? Then it occurred to me that out of all of us he had the most to learn, so it was good he was here, but probably he would never learn anything!
I had met a French chap the other day, he was two thirds of the way to Santiago and had big problems with blisters and was in pain on every step I could see. I looked across and said
"Why the hell are we doing this? "Most people are like me they don't know why!"
He continued walking and replied,
"I do!" There were tears in his eyes as he continued, and he looked across at me,
"I had just come back from a holiday to Lords in France with my wife and we were bathing our new grandchild." He took a couple of more paces looked down and said,
"The baby slipped and fell to the floor!"
Typical of me I exclaimed,
"Christ!"
He swallowed and started again
"I 'felt' in that moment 'Mary' caught hold of the child and placed it gently on the floor! For the child was unhurt!"
"I have not told my wife, but this was why I had to leave to walk the camino a month later. This is my way of saying thank you!"
I hope and pray his little grandchild grows up big and strong and loves his grandpa as his grandpa obviously loves him.
I never remembered seeing this quiet spoken man again after I went on but am sure he made it to Santiago. That was the only time I heard such an answer but I shall remember it always.
Santa Domingo to Villafranca
I found a cafe open and had breakfast, bought some cake and bread then started out of town but suddenly remembered I was walking without my sticks! I went back and found them in the bakers.
Most peregrinos were gone as I now walked out of town over a bridge and remembered seeing the incredible storks on their high poll-top nests here before at sunset. I had been with Biel, another peregrino friend four years ago. We had seen them at dusk with the glorious red sun setting behind them. The storks had been making clacking noises and touching beaks and renewing their bond as they settled down for the night. This morning was quieter, the parents already gone for food, the young were looking for them to return.
I was enjoying this stroll and was going well and soon came to a road and over the other side was a tourist office. I remembered getting a stamp in my credential with Biel here and for old times sake I went in again. A pleasant girl put the stamp on the card and as I came out there were several peregrinos around a tall stone village cross that is so often marking the way. This one, like many, had a wide plinth that you could sit on and rest. I joined them drinking water from a nearby fountain and eating cake. I knew some of them but in the end I left alone. 
I took some nice photos in the old village and then I passed through Grañon. Well, I did stop for coffee and a splash of brandy, only for the feet of course! I noticed the church where last time I had hung wet washing in the belfry! It is used partly as an albergue. Crossing wheat fields, I came to Redecilla then by road to Castildelgado and on to Villamayor. It was 2 p.m. when I stopped in this tiny village to eat my lunch. Here was a fountain, three stone tables and benches and one had a little shady tree, not that shade was very necessary today, but it was sunny. Soon I was joined by a nice couple from Perth W.A. and a Spanish couple who they were travelling with. We swapped stories and shared some cheese. Some of the young Germans that I had met arrived as I was leaving. I plodded on to Belorado alone again and passed the Albergue as I came into town. I had walked 23 km and was tired but felt I could go on if I got some good food first. I asked some local folk where I could eat well and cheaply."There is a fiesta on, so go into the main square. There are plenty of places and even at this time of day you should find good food there."
The camino continued straight on and might have bypassed the town, so taking their advice I took a tiny street and soon found I was in the right place at the right time. Tents, colourful banners, buntings, flags and market stalls. Straw bales were everywhere and it was obvious there had been a lot of fun here, probably with the bulls but at the moment it was peaceful. I admired but resisted the cakes and yummy churos stalls. I then entered the big main square. More stalls, shops that spilled their wares onto the street, a big music stand with a band setting up and hundreds of people sitting outside bars and restaurants. People sat where they could and the many straw bales here were in use. I joined a couple of tourists sitting on some and asked if they had eaten in any of the restaurants but they hadn't. We chatted for a while then I left them to soak up the Spanish atmosphere and drink their beer and headed for the nearest bar. I had a job to get near the counter but a Spanish family spoke to me and moved so I could get closer to catch the barman's eyes. As I was still carrying my pack I had to tell where I was from, and my story up to arriving at Belorado. I did catch the barman's eye in the end, he told me to climb the staircase as the restaurant was up there. Saying goodbye to my new Spanish friends I went upstairs and opened the door. The place was packed and as far as I could see not a table free. Girls in traditional dress ran hither and thither with hot dishes. I stood for a few moments until one poor girl, sweat running into her eyes came to ask what I wanted.
"Table for one"
She raised her shoulders and gestured at the tables and rushed off again. Only one man occupied the table in front of me. He was eating but nearly finished.
"You are welcome to join me if you like" he said "I will soon be finished!"
I thanked him and lent my sticks against the wall, took a chair and unloaded my pack onto it then took another and sat down opposite him. He filled a glass from his bottle of red and pushed it my way.
"Gracias, salud" I gestured and with no problem we were soon deep in conversation. He had a stall in the first small square I had come too and was from a nearby town, and here selling his own cider.
"You must stop by before you go, try my cider"
I thanked him and said,
"I'll come and see you before I continue my camino, but I will have to refuse your kind offer of cider, because I drank cider in Oviedo last year and was warned not to mix it with the red. We are drinking red now!" I laughed. "Last time I had one glass and then the cider and was nursing a terrible head till lunchtime next day" I chuckled. The girl appeared and scribbled down my order. When she returned loaded with my dinner Jesus excused himself and left me to eat a rather large and good meal of veal and chips. I drank the last of his bottle of good red wine.
As I came out I met a table full of beer drinking and laughing peregrinos, who all knew me. They joked and wished me buen camino, especially when I said I was going on. I then went back to the first small square and found Jesus and we shook hands and wished each other well too, then I went back to the main plaza and crossed to the far corner and down a few streets till I saw the familiar arrows.
there was a superb old bridge with wide arches that I remembered from my last trip, there is now a wooden one alongside so the traffic doesn't remove any of the peregrinos before they have completed their spiritual journey! The locals prefer to give them a nice chance to photograph it instead! 
At this stage I would like to point out the camino, when it was a true track, was usually well maintained and often stones mixed with clay and rolled well. This gives a smooth sound footing without sharp bits sticking up to annoy your blistered feet and much better than asphalt that heats up in the sun. This French camino was generally much better than my Ebro camino to Logroño had ever been. The camino is walked by thousands of folk these days and getting more each year so naturally there are more albergues and the tracks are wider the well trodden. I liked but hated the changes. My body liked the changes but my eyes hated the disturbance of the old ways, the gracious old sagging buildings full of charm that suddenly have the front ripped out and new glass shop fronts put in! I do believe I was quite often sent a different way to that I had travelled four years ago at times.
I came to Tosantos and carried on. I could now see some tumble down buildings in the next village of Villambistia.
It jogged my memory back, I had been with Luke, my very first peregrino friend from America. It had been completely deserted. My feet hurt then and they were starting to do so again. I saw an albergue sign on the first house on the corner. It had been recently restored and I thought the old house looked inviting. I had, after all, done a good days walk, but the gentleman who answered the door said, when I asked for just a bed for the night,"You have to have the evening meal it is a fixed price."
"But I have eaten a big meal and only want a bed surely that should be cheaper"
"No the same!"
I can be a funny person at times, the cost of the next albergue would be just two Euro less without the meal, in other words the meal was only two Euro but I wanted the choice whether to have it or not! I said goodbye and carried on! Leaving the village I toyed with the idea of camping but there was not a flat place anywhere for the tent and I had not enough water. I must keep going, the terrain was hilly and had been for some while. Espinosa del Camino had nothing.
I stopped at the top of a hill and looked down the valley and knew Villafranca Montes de Oca was down there somewhere just before the big hills. They were tomorrows challenge, I remembered that stop well! My problem was getting down there. My feet were burning!
I stopped and removed my socks and treated my feet as best I could then started down. An old ruin on my right, a tower probably in its time, remains of a monastery if my memory serves me right! I looked at it but there was a steel grill across the doorway so I could not shelter there and tall grass full of thistles stopped me camping outside it. The last part along the valley floor was awful, my body ached and my feet said stop at every pace but I knew I must keep going. At last I crossed the river and entered the small town remembering the albergue was a little way up the hill in front of me! I reached the door and the same dueña (boss lady) took my details and the ten or twelve Euro! I didn’t care now!
"Been here before" I said, "four years ago, looks just the same " I said jokingly.
"Oh no! Lots of changes" she assured me. I got the same dorm as before but a different bed! That all looked much the same but the showers were all brand new. They had been terrible before, the place had flooded with water all the time!
I hung out my washing on the lines provided under the roof of the old wagon shed in the yard at the back of the building. This yard was now concreted. This was where another peregrino friend Ralf had pitched his tent on my last visit, so he could sleep with his dog to stop it barking all night, something this kind lady thought was hilarious at the time! Yes things were different now I thought, 90% Germans for a start, the albergue was pretty full now and I was obviously in a bad mood. I had gone from no peregrinos to too many and was still having problems getting used to it.
I had a top bunk and soon crashed out there to sleep. I counted at least four other people doing the same. Six loud foreign people that spoke little English and no Spanish, come to that, were using the dorm like it was the local saloon. Talking very loud, laughing and having no respect for the others in the room who might be sleeping. You always look around to see who is sleeping and anyway never make such a noise in a dormitory. I put up with it for a while but I was tired, my patience snapped! I sat up and told them in English and Spanish to shut up! Go out side in the hall to talk if you must (there was table and chairs there).
The biggest guy was taken aback and swaggered over to this little old man sitting up in bed and asked in broken English what I said. Not thinking of my safety I told him plainly again! In both languages! The advantage of a top bunk became obvious because as big as he was I sat taller!
"Lights go out at ten we can make as much noise as we like till then and it's only eight o'clock!" he said loudly.
"That maybe but have some bloody consideration for others that have, like myself, walked thirty five kilometres today!" I countered.
Muttering about he would make as much noise as he liked till ten o'clock he rejoined his friends. While they never really shut up it took some of the fun out of their conversation and the riotous laughter was gone and we could get some rest!
I had met a number of people today but had walked always alone.
I lay there thinking;
Often peregrinos on camino say its like your whole life is squashed down into four or five weeks before your eyes.
Most, if asked, don't know why they walk it. I was wondering why the loudmouth guy did so? Then it occurred to me that out of all of us he had the most to learn, so it was good he was here, but probably he would never learn anything!
I had met a French chap the other day, he was two thirds of the way to Santiago and had big problems with blisters and was in pain on every step I could see. I looked across and said
"Why the hell are we doing this? "Most people are like me they don't know why!"
He continued walking and replied,
"I do!" There were tears in his eyes as he continued, and he looked across at me,
"I had just come back from a holiday to Lords in France with my wife and we were bathing our new grandchild." He took a couple of more paces looked down and said,
"The baby slipped and fell to the floor!"
Typical of me I exclaimed,
"Christ!"
He swallowed and started again
"I 'felt' in that moment 'Mary' caught hold of the child and placed it gently on the floor! For the child was unhurt!"
"I have not told my wife, but this was why I had to leave to walk the camino a month later. This is my way of saying thank you!"
I hope and pray his little grandchild grows up big and strong and loves his grandpa as his grandpa obviously loves him.
I never remembered seeing this quiet spoken man again after I went on but am sure he made it to Santiago. That was the only time I heard such an answer but I shall remember it always.
END DAY 18 = approx. 34.9!!!! km Sub Total = 84.9 km Total = 422.8 km
