Today was a lovely day to walk. Stella left Belarado early than I did. At my alburgue, we were asked when we checked in to not get up before 6 am as ´pilgrims need their rest.´ I slept well from about 10 pm until 2 am, then heard the church bells every hour from 2 until 6. I don´t know whether I slept in between or not, but if so, it wasn´t much. At least I was by the only window in the room and could feel a bit of a breeze. Part of my not sleeping, I think, on some nights at least, is the fear of rolling off of the top bunk of these narrow bunk beds! It would not be hard for someone who moves a lot, when you are already wrapped up in the cocoon of a sleeping bag - one wrong move and thud, splat!
Anyway, morning came, and with very little room to move and not much light to see by (we always resist turning on the light for those who wish to stay in longer), it is difficult to do the ritual of unstuffing/stuffing the pack in just the right order. Taking care of the feet and putting on the boots has to wait until going downstairs. Most alburgues have you keep your boots in a certain area near the front door to minimize dirt throughout the place. At least I had a day without doing laundry yesterday because it was too damp for it to dry on the line, so I just pack up the few things that are dirty and will have more to do later today. A quick breakfast of bread and jam and tee con leche and I´m off.
As I walk out the door, I look up at the facade of the Iglesia de Santa Maria next door. What I hadn´t noticed yesterday was the stork highrise complex on top. There are at least four nests on the part that sticks up with the bells, with birds and fledglings in each. The penthouse is obvious as the largest and sloppiest, twigs and branches spilling down more than the others. I also hadn't really noticed the caves and dwelling built into the rocky hillside behind the church yesterday. Apparently someone actually lives there or it is used for something.
The walk this morning begins with clouds and gray skies, and nice cool temperatures. There are several small villages as we cross through farmlands. I am reminded of home in many ways. There are some things that are like south Georgia - some of the roads look like tabby except instead of oyster shells, it is simply white rock. The large rectangular bales of hay (instead of our big rolls) are tied with big orange ropes, just a bigger version of our pine straw bales. I walk through clouds of gnats and do my best south Georgia pfff through my lower extended lip. It's just about as effective (or not) as it is there. But then, there are also things that remind me of Northern Virginia and south central Pennsylvania with which I am also familiar. 
Just outside of Belarado, I cross the Rio Tiron, which is much prettier than Tyrone, PA ever thought about being, but the name connection is there. Later, the rolling hills are exactly like the hills I drive through near Winchester, VA and up through Frederick, MD and into Adams and York County, PA. 
If the buildings weren´t visible, I could think I was thousands of miles away. The path goes through several little communities. I stop at a church in Espinosa de Camino, the town before Villafranca, to take a short break. The church is not along the Camino, but over in a corner of the village. It is not open, but there's a bench outside and no one around, so I take off my pack and just rest for about 15 minutes, and I try to do a little centering prayer for a change. Not so easy to do over here as I had hoped. It´s hard to find a place where there are not people and distractions. It is a good time in a quiet place in the sun. While I am sitting there, I know that I am affirmed in my sense of call to come on this pilgrimage and in my following through on that call. In what I tend to refer to that 'voice without a voice,' or some would say that 'still, small voice,' I know that I hear God say to me, "I have brought you here." And in my usual way (perhaps too casual, but we have a pretty down-to-earth relationship), I simply reply inside, "Yes, I know." I wait for more to come, but that is really it. Which is actually quite enough and all anyone ever really needs. But, being me, I can't resist asking, after several more minutes, "Why?" But there isn't any further response. Other than the Camino beckoning me onward. Several days from now, and I'm not sure which day, the answer will come as I'm walking. "To rest." I spontaneously laugh out loud (I'm alone) when the answer comes. "You want me to walk 500 miles so that I can REST??" But in my heart, and my body and mind, I know that's exactly what I'm here to do and what I'm actually doing. Resting in God. It is not an oxymoron to be physically active but still to be resting in God. In fact, sometimes thats exactly what the picture in Webster's Dictionary would look like.
Back on the trail, feeling refreshed not only from the break but from the affirmation, and nearing Villafranca, I pass a funny little ruin. The name painted on the trail marker says it is the Monastery of St. Felix the Goose! Honk if you love God!
A couple more kilometers and I am in Villafranca. It takes a couple of questions to find the bus stop and meet up with Stella. First, I go up the hill, where it seems likely to be, but that turns out only to be a splashy little hotel. I have no idea why it would be in this little town. As I come back down the hill, I cut through a church parking lot. There is a group of three or four little old ladies, bent over a wheelbarrow outside the church. The wheelbarrow is laden with a folded up oriental rug on the bottom and then stacked with a tall stack of white linens. The ladies have carried all the linens into the church before I suddenly realize that I am observing the Altar Guild of St. Somebody's in progress! This is how they haul everything back and forth to the church!
At last, I find the bus station and Stella and we decipher the schedule, though we don't actually trust it. We sit in the little glass booth, and fortunately for us, the bus comes sooner than the posted time. We make sure it is really going into center-city Burgos before we board. We have decided to take the bus because the next 15 km from here are through very scrubby vegetation with no facilities or towns, and it is very hilly. Then there are a few kilometers of towns, followed by another 10 km of just industry. The Brierly guidebook puts it this way in regard to the industrial section: "Steel yourself for the long hike through the industrial and residential suburbs to the cathedral and albergue in the city center along one of the busy access roads...try working with the energy of the traffic rather than fighting against it...Due to the insatiable demands of a modern economy, many of the original paths into the city have been obliterated by the bulldozer. We can usefully take this time to reflect on areas of our own lives where we have allowed these materialistic forces to bulldoze our own inner pathways out of seeming existence. Burgos is perhaps a perfect reflection of our ´developed´ world. It is easy to blame the faceless government and developer, but they only build to feed our desire for a more convenient lifestyle...Are we ready to embrace a life of voluntary simplicity, not because we have to but because we want to?" Pretty good food for thought. Neither of us feel the need to walk these 25+ kilometers (15 miles) through all of this, however. It doesn´t change the pilgrimage for us. Neither of us has a martyr complex or sees the need to walk through parts that would not be particularly soul enriching and only draining. Most of the bus trip is very close to the Camino, and as I watch it, I keep thinking, I´m so glad we made this choice...(I think the other perigrinos on the bus are thinking similar thoughts!)
So we are at an alburgue run by Jesuits and beginning to explore this lovely city. And guess what? Remember that program on Performance Today with music from Los Huelgas and I didn´t know where it was? It´s just off the Camino on the way out of Burgos, so you will get to know more about that, too!
To continue...(a couple of days later)
Well, Stella and I felt like princesses in our very own palace in Burgos, Emmaus!
We were the only two peregrinos staying at the alburgue. We had a little trouble locating it because it wasn´t exactly where it was supposed to be according to the guidebook, but as always, people around us noticed the puzzled look on our faces, knew exactly what the question was and showed us where we needed to go. It turned out to be this 1800s building that had been renovated extensively (we saw the album!) into the best alburgue we have stayed in hands down. It is attached to a large Roman parish church, chapel and offices and a nice looking priest showed us where we could leave our bags until we could come back at 2 to check in. When we did come back later, Marie Noelle, 
the lady that runs the place, showed us around. She is a Carmelite nun - apparently they do not live in community or ever wear habits. They have vocations out in the world. Hers, in addition to running this alburgue, is to teach. After leaving our boots downstairs, she led us up the three-part grand marble staircase to our room. They were bunk beds you could actually sit on without hitting your head! And only four beds in our room. Great french doors opened to a balcony overlooking the street. The bathrooms were lovely, especially for a hostel. The common spaces resembled something of Frank Lloyd Wright, but much more comfortable. 
We shared a simple meal with Marie Noelle of salad, pasta, great bread, wonderful French cheese (she´s originally French), wine, cookies, and some other delicacies she pulled together for us. In between preparing the dinner and serving it, we went to a short mass in the chapel downstairs. We didn´t understand 95% of it, but we know the padre talked about us peregrinos in the homily. On the kitchen door in the alburgue, there is a folder with a pocket. In the pocket, there are slips of paper with little sayings on them. Marie Noelle invites us each to take one and keep it for our journey - and not necessarily just the one to Santiago. Mine reads, "It is better to be befriended than to be rich or blooming." Seems to fit well with the Beatitude that is significant for me. 
Burgos is a lovely city. There is a small river that runs through the middle of the old part, with several bridges across it. Park areas surround it. 
Most Spanish towns and cities have lots of public spaces, mostly green, where the people gather. One main reason for this is that the places people live are so much smaller (and often darker) than what we Americans enjoy, and so they get out to enjoy the freedom and the sunlight. Consequently, they also enjoy much more community. People are together everywhere and families are seen together everywhere. As kids get older, they hang together, just as American kids do, but it is so nice to have these gathering places in every single village and city and it is so lacking in our country.It has become obvious to me that if you are handicapped in Spain, you almost have to live in a big city. Almost none of the villages and towns we have been through would be remotely accessible to someone in a wheelchair, although the restroom in the bar/cafe I used in Tosantos yesterday was. In Burgos, handicap accessibility is almost a given. Stella and I stop at a bar/cafe as soon as we got to town to get some coffee and tea and get our bearings. I went to use the loo and realized it was down stairs. There was a lift going down the stairs and the restroom was one of the most accessible I´ve seen! Smoking is another thing still different over here. Many more Europeans still smoke. Some bar/cafes post whether or not it is a smoking or non-smoking place, but most are smoking. I am so thankful Georgia is ahead of the curve on that!
The jewel in Burgos´ crown is the cathedral.
Stella and I visit it in the afternoon and it takes a good hour and a half to go through it. I love the various ceiling designs.
There is a mechanized clock, like many that I have seen in Germany.
In one area, there appears to be an empty marble slab that doesn't have any famous persons' remains, so Stella and I take turns being 'famous,' hoping no guards or anyone else minds. 
There is a whole display on the way out about what it takes to preserve the building. 
This cathedral was built between 1221 and 1240, which is pretty amazing in cathedral building terms, only 19 years. I cannot imagine how the designers/builders envisioned everything and made it happen so quickly. The altarpieces, the art work, the architecture are all so spectacular. 
We thoroughly enjoy the walk through the cathedral and back and forth along the park. Spain also has lots of public art, not all of which is immediately understandable, but perhaps that is part of the art. We both love Burgos.
