Day 16 - Belorado - Wednesday, 6 May 2009

Granon -> Belorado = 16K (537.9K to go!)

1530 – Relaxing by the Pool!

I am lulled by the gentle sounds of hens caring for their babies. The albergue (run by Brazilians) has a carpet of green, inviting grass in the courtyard. There is also a swimming pool! The garden is flanked by a chicken yard. I face away from the German pilgrims drinking beer poolside and watch the chickens as well as a family of ranging rabbits.

Later I will shower and go explore the town, but for now, I sip Rioja wine (though I have left the Rioja region behind now and am in Castle-Leon) and consider moving to the pool to soak my feet in the cold, cold waters. The pool is in the sun so I linger in the shade and continue to enjoy the antics of the poultry and rabbits.

The walk today was good, but the sun was very hot. The terrain is like Nebraska or Iowa (I am from Iowa originally so I am a good judge of this and I hasten to note, this comparison is in NO way pejorative; it is merely descriptive). The countryside consists of rolling hills, farmland and there are few trees. R. and I had breakfast before leaving the albergue in Granon (rice, bread and coffee). Though we passed through three villages, there were no bars/cafes open so no bathroom breaks nor coffee breaks. We arrived, sweaty and hot, in Belorado around 1400. My current walking companion (R.) surrendered her large backpack to a van driver who drove it to this albergue. So, she did the last couple hours in the hot sun mostly unencumbered.

Last night in Granon the local church had a pilgrim mass. In a small village, the pilgrims comprise most of the people at the mass. In Granon, most of the village showed up. The priest gave us a warm blessing and then we went back to the albergue to share a communal meal for 40. I helped prepare baked apples and stayed up past “curfew” to dry dishes.

The sit-down meal consisted of lentil soup, baked apples, egg salad, bread, wine and water. More guests kept arriving so we kept adding water to the soup and chairs to the table. We all sat around one of two long tables to talk and eat together. The most common language was English, but as usual, there were no other guests from the USA. Dining on Camino can be like being at the Tower of Babel as all the pilgrims chattered away in their respective languages, reverting to English when they needed to really communicate. After our meal there were prayers in the church and each pilgrim read aloud and shared a story.

Pilgrims washed their clothes and hung them to dry up in the bell tower where the breezes made quick work of drying them. It was fun to hear the bells toll in such close proximity! Our mattresses on the floor were tucked up under the eaves - I felt like a little bird in a cozy nest.

The house rule at Granon: don’t awaken before 0700 (breakfast at 0730) was violated by many pilgrims. Rustling bags and loud voices - people think they are being quiet and respectful, but they are not.

More later… I am off to clean up and to explore Belorado.

Day 14 - Santo Domingo de la Calzada - Monday, 4 May 2009

Azofra -> Santo Domingo de la Calzada = 15.5K (638K to go!)

The day never really dawned. I woke late and the grey skies gave no clue to what time it really was.

I made my way down the hall for the usual ablutions, and realized the albergue was empty of other pilgrims. It had the eerie feel of a schoolhouse in summer or a nightclub seen in the light of day.

This albergue provided pilgrims with some privacy. Instead of an open bay filled with bunks, pilgrims shared a small room, designed just for two. What a luxury to have a modicum of privacy (thin plywood walls) and an escape from the usual symphony of snoring and farting and the pre-dawn rustling of plastic bags under the glow of annoying headlamps and flashlights.

So I overslept!

I set out at 0840 as the grey skies morphed into mist and light rain. The temperature dropped. Ahead, I observed a pilgrim disappearing into a taxi cab. (REAL pilgrims carry their bags and walk the entire way, though where these rules are written is a topic of considerable discussion.)  I plodded on up the sloping terrain, eager to find a bar for some hot café con leche. By 1215 I was in Santo Domingo de la Calzada. The one village I passed through had no bar so I was eager to find a dry, warm place to sip some coffee.

I wandered through the historic district, my red poncho the only splash of color on this dreary day. When I saw the albergue, I decided to stop and call it a day. The Spanish Confraternity runs this establishment with its large dining room and convenient location. It is large and modern and well maintained. I will share a room with about 28 other pilgrims. The grey, overcast sky and penetrating humidity takes its toll. I am sleepy, the room feels muggy and close and the bathroom is like a sauna.

This is the jubilee year of the town’s namesake and as luck would have it, there is a special mass today. St Dominic was an 11th century religious hermit and engineer who spent his life designing and building roads and bridges for pilgrims in this wilderness area on the banks of the Rio Oja (River Oja). His remains are housed in the cathedral.

The motto of Santo Domingo de la Calzada is: “Donde la gallina canto despues de asada.” (Where the hen crowed after being roasted.) So, I am especially eager to see the rooster and hen that are housed in the cathedral and play a significant role in the legends about this community.

The condensed version of the tale goes like this: a young pilgrim, traveling with his parents, spurned the advances of a local barmaid. Angered, the young woman hid some silver in the young man’s knapsack and then accused him of stealing from the tavern. Of course the evidence was there and the young man was marched to the gallows and hanged. The devastated, but devoted parents prayed earnestly to St James and knowing St James would support their innocent son, they proceeded on their pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, leaving their son strung up on the gallows.

The story does not end here. Once their pilgrimage was complete, the grieving parents return to Santo Domingo de la Calzada and find their son, still hanging and alive. Supporting him from under his feet is the saint. The parents run to the surly judge and ask him to release their innocent son. The judge, who was seated at lunch, scoffed and said if their son was innocent and still alive, the roasted chickens on his plate would stand up and crow. To his great surprise, the roasted chickens did just that! A miracle! St James protects travelers along the pilgrim route and this legend is testimony of that!

I visit the cathedral delight to hear the crowing chickens. Later, I visit the alternate chickens which are housed in the albergue where they wait for their 15-day rotation in the cathedral. I feed these birds bits of bread and feel lucky that they eat my offering. This is considered a good omen, by those who know about omens.

I mingle with other pilgrims and hear the inevitable gossip. About 6 of the pilgrims who I saw at the Azofra albergue last night have shipped their backpacks ahead. Foot and knee problems drive their decisions. My own knee is good now and my backpack (about 8 pounds) is light and not a burden. Some other pilgrims have checked into private hotels for the night rather than deal with the challenges of communal living in the albergue.

Friend Judy's Inspriational Thought for the Day:

HEAVENWARD

Christian Science Hymn 136 (This first verse has many "active" thoughts for May 4th.)

I love Thy way of freedom, Lord,

To serve Thee is my choice,

In Thy clear light of Truth I rise

And, listening for Thy voice,

I hear Thy promise old and new,

That bids all fear to cease:

My presence still shall go with thee

And I will give thee peace.

(This is a favorite of mine and I sing it frequently! - VJP)