Progress

Santibanez to Santa Catalina (Friday, June 18th)

The beautiful, crystal blue skies continued today, and with a little added warmth. We left our rustic surroundings this morning and headed towards the old city of Astorga. Our route took us through more countryside. People here do not live out in the country. And a lot of what we saw wasn´t even cultivated, except a vineyard here, an acre or two there of wheat or corn or barley. It would seem like lonely countryside except that you feel the fullness of creation so present.

Not long after we started, there was some folk art along the trail that seemed like pilgrims themselves had created - which would mean folks had very intentionally brought along materials to create, and maybe others had added to over time. A little ways after this artwork, we went down into a hollow where there was a little lake with the mist still rising in the early morning sun. It was beautiful, with some waterbirds sitting on the lake and others rising up from it. A very tranquil scene with which to start the day.

We had about 10 km to Astorga this morning and stopped about half way for our break. This break location was much better than yesterday's! And we found yet another interesting way of marking the Camino along the way - and a little way to use some of the zillion rocks around here!

We got to Astorga (notice the name, Augusta - another reminder of home!), another city on a hill, and climbed up into the old part. We followed the guide book´s suggested route through the old, walled part of the city which meanders through a series of plazas.


Off of the first plaza was a lovely garden, with views over the city walls into the new parts of the city below, and far off into the distance towards the mountains that we will be crossing in the next couple of days. There was also a church which St. Francis reputedly stopped in on his way to Santiago (think: George Washington slept here, because there are a number of places that claim this).

Next to the church were archealogical ruins from Roman times complete with mosaic floor tiles intact. A street sweeper, in his orange jumpsuit (they are very fastidious about keeping the streets clean) stopped to tell us about the ruins. Stella got his picture. She is much better about taking pictures of people than I am. We will run into him twice more before we leave the city. He will tell us about the animated clock on the city hall and also help us find a tobacco shop which is where they sell postage stamps. He is our little 'guardian angel' for Astorga.


We wound our way up the street which serves as the spine of the old city. We stopped in the Plaza Mayor, where the City Hall and the clock are and waited a few minutes for the woman and man characters to do their thing and strike the big bells on the hour. We checked out the Museum of Chocolate, but decide it was not worth the price of admission (which is saying a lot, considering Stella's passion for chocolate!). We got a few postcards, wrote them, got stamps at the tobacco store, and put them in the round, bright yellow "Correo" mailbox and then went to find the Cathedral. I liked the cathedral more than the one in Leon. It, too is Gothic, but somehow seems lighter, airier. There are a variety of stained glass window styles within the cathedral from several centuries old to very modern. .



Next to the Cathedral is another Gaudi building. This one is his palace for the Bishop of Astorga. Built in 1887, it is a rather grand parady of the Gothic style, emphasizing horizontal rather than vertical, but with spires and turrets and gargoyles enough to make any Gothic-o-phile happy. We didn't take the tour, but the inside was supposed to be designed to be spectacularly ornate, with sumptuously appointed salons. Hmmm..."even the birds of the air have their nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head..." What Would Jesus Think? Just sayin... The bishop died only six years after the building was begun and so construction was halted, and it was considered a church scandal. Astorga was a poor region and this was outrageous. The building was eventually finished in 1909, but succeeding bishops were embarrassed (and rightfully so) to live there. Finally, in the 1960's, it became the museum it is today. Outside of the Gaudi building, there is a garden area, again overlooking the newer sections of the city below, with three larger-than-life statues, of which this is one.



We have a somewhat pricey, but tasty open-air lunch of salads, good bread and beer in the Cathedral plaza before we say goodbye to Astorga. As we are walking through the outskirts of Astorga, we see a much more modern church and this relief, which says "Camino" over and over again both horizontally and vertically, is a piece of art on the side of it.




It´s another 10 km to Santa Catalina. Halfway there, we stop in a little town to take a brief break. It´s one of the prettiest little bars we have found. The lady who runs it is a character. She asks where we are from and we say "USA". Before we even say "Georgia", guess what she puts on the CD player? Yep, Ray Charles singing "Georgia." (Remember a Spanish version of "Dixie" coming out of someone´s window in Castrojeriz? Hmmmm) Anyway, we got her picture and she wants us to send it back to her via email so she can post it on her wall.

Another 5 km to our home for the night. I thought it flew by and I got here in about 45 minutes - I was trying to beat the rainclouds. I couldn´t believe this was the right town already. Stella, who was walking separately and listening to her MP3 player, thought she would never get here, though she was only about 15 minutes behind me. Sometimes it´s all a matter of perspective. Anyway, it seems like a much more comfortable place than last night. USA just tied with Slovenia (I think) in the World Cup. It´s time to sign off and go explore the town a bit.

Back again for a final closing. Stella and I explored the length and breadth of Santa Catalina. Didn´t take too long. It is apparently a typical town of the Maragota culture. I am not quite sure what that means except it is a subculture that goes back to the 7th or 8th century. There is debate as to whether it has Moorish origins or is named for a former king. It is in pockets up in the mountains of Spain, very isolated. There is traditional dress and food. Other than that, I´m not sure what makes it different, perhaps life customs such as weddings. I don´t see much difference in architecture or layout of towns. Stella and I both get into phazes of picture taking. We´re now into doors. People have interesting old (and sometimes new) doors that are often painted bright colors. Sometimes they were painted bright colors in the past and have washed out. Blue and green seem to be favorites. Some doors have ornate carving or really interesting hardware. Others are arched. Some of these doors are large, double doors that simply open to garages or places where farm equipment is stored on the ground level and living quarters are above. This town has a number of pretty doors.

This alburgue, El Caminante, which must mean something like "the walk" or "the hiker" or something to do with walking, is pretty, with a central courtyard filled with a fountain and pretty flowers. And they have invited swallows to build nests up on the second level. Their chirping fills the courtyard with cheerfulness. Out behind the courtyard is the tendedero, the washline and a utilitarian courtyard. In that courtyard is a black cat and a family of siamese looking cats. There are a momma and daddy and three blue-eyed nursing kitties that are perhaps three months or so old, all living in a plastic soda crate. They are very cute and help my craving for a fix of my own kitties.

There are no other businesses in town beyond the two alburgues, so we have dinner at ours. It consists of the required red wine and water, a sopa verde that is creamed green something and very tasty with the thin sliced crusty bread, and then, once again, fried fish. There is so much fish, that I leave a good portion behind along with all the fries and the slice of tomato. Dessert is real, homemade flan, a little granular, but sure beats the commercial stuff in a cup!

Rustic

Villar de Mazarife to Santibaniz (Thursday, June 17th)

We have been blessed with beautiful walking weather the last few days. Cool temperatures, beautiful sunny skies. The path has not been marked as well in the Province of Leon, and we even have to step back in to Tio Pepe's and ask Rosey how to get back onto the Camino from the alburgue! But then we are on our way. All three stork families are awake and busy on the church bell tower on the little plaza in front of the alburgue.

We have about 20 km ahead of us this day with no major cities to go through. One village is completely concreted between buildings except for this little triangular rose garden. There is also a very clever ad on the side of a building for an alburgue:
We see a lot of older women out working in their gardens - they are dressed up like this one. I don't know the Spanish word for 'babushka.'



When we stop for our usual mid-morning break, it is an omen of what our accommodations will be like that night, we just don´t realize it. Each town seems to have one bar that serves the pilgrims as they drift through each day. The plastic tables and chairs, and sometimes umbrellas indicate their liveliness amidst the shuttered windows in most of these sleepy burgs. The tables and chairs are usually emblazoned with "San Miguel" or "Amstel" or whatever the bar features on tap. The pilgrims stop mostly to use the aseos, the bathrooms. Rare is it to find a bathroom on the Camino that has all four of these: toilet paper, soap, hot water, paper towels-hand dryer. If you can find one of these, it´s an okay place; if you find two, you´re doing pretty good. Well, this particular bar didn´t have any of the above, nor did it even have a seat on the toilet! Or napkins on the bar to dry hands. And the men´s room was worse - or so says Paul from the Chicago group, who is there at the same time as we are. So the ´rustic´ part of the day began early.

One of the cities that we did go through however, was Hospital de Orbigo which was famous for it´s jousting tournament in 1434 (I think). A knight, Suero de Quinones, who was a little crazy, was scorned by his lover (you can't really blame her when you hear more about him!), and therefore had to defend his honor. Which meant taking on 300 knights from all across Europe who rose to the challenge, but he prevailed against them all. It took 30 days, but he defeated them and kept his honor! And during this 30 days, there was apparently quite a party in the town with feasting, music and dancing. To this day, in fact, shortly before we got to the town, the city holds an annual jousting festival.


The bridge across the river is one of the longest medieval bridges still extant. As we were crossing it, there were men working on it to rebuild part of it. It has been damaged many times in major floods over the centuries, but is still essentially intact in it's original form. We walk across it, admiring the stonework and contemporary craftsmanship.

We decide to stop and have lunch in Hosptial de Orbiga and go into a little alimentacion. I buy some fruit, a granola-like bar and one or two other little things for lunch. We go out into the square to eat. There are lots of pilgrims present in this pleasant little town. The Chicago group, Paul, Therese, Taryn and Dana is here, too and we will say goodbye to them here as they will high-tail it from here to meet a deadline to get to Santiago and then to Rome. We also run into Ale (Argentina), Charley (Scotland) and Kim (England) again! It feels like old home week!

Hospital de Orbiga was also a town with an outpost of the Knights Templar in the church of St. John the Baptist who had a mission to protect the pilgrims who came through there. After our lunch break, we poke our heads into the little church. Outside are some lilies (the symbol of Mary) and red roses.


We got to Santibanez by about 1:15. The only alburgue didn´t open for another 15 minutes. The guide book says, ¨The bleak facade belies the charm inside.¨ Well, the inside turned out to be pretty bleak, too, once we were in. Stella and I were in a room about 9' by 9' with 3 bunk beds (i.e. 6 people) in it. The bunk beds were so short that the bar for the top bed hit the back of my neck when I tried to sit on the edge of my bed! Some places put fitted sheets on the mattresses and pillowcases on the pillows. Sometimes we trust them and sometimes we don´t and immediately get out our sleeping bags. This was an immediate sleeping bag place. And lavendar soap, to try and scare away any bedbugs. Or anything else. The two showers and two toilets for everyone (supposedly they could take up to 60 people in this alburgue) were outdoors in the courtyard, and the sinks, for doing laundry as well as washing hands and brushing teeth, were open air. This is why I don´t like camping. And yes, this is better than most camping. By the end of the afternoon, all six bunks in our room were full. There was almost no room for moving around by the time that everyone had their backpacks in there and unpacked what we needed for overnight. And this couple that was put into our room later absolutely roared with their snoring!

This is the only place so far that we have been absolutely bored. We walked around town a couple of times, laid on park benches in this beautiful little pocket park, loving the breezes and the smell of the roses wafting over us. But there was absolutely nothing to do. The town had no stores. The only bar in town closed at 2 pm, shortly after we got there, there was no Internet, and the alburgue was too damp and chilly to sit in. So for once, we were at loose ends.



We took pictures of a new friend of Stella's ...


and interesting doors. Most of the residents of the town appeared to be older farmers and in the afternoon, they were bringing their large farm equipment back into town. They keep it on the first floor of their homes and live above. So in my two loops of walking through the town, I peered into the cavernous first floors that served as barns, curious to see how they worked and lived.

When the church finally opened up at 5, we went inside to look around and stayed awhile. Four members of the flower guild presumably, two older, two younger, came in to discuss at length, arrangements for every nook and cranny of the elaborate altarpiece. The church is a very recently constructed church. Spanish taste in church decorating is very 'over the top' by American standards, very Rococo or Baroque, with lots of levels, lots of frufru (a very technical decorating term), lots of gold, lots of figures or busts, and lots of flowers. And of course, even in newer churches, there are still side altars with special patron saints.

Finally, we went back to the alburgue and had a lovely dinner out under the cherry trees in that back yard. First course of a basic paella, just a flavored sticky rice really with a minimum of chorizo, but good. Second was a lettuce salad with beets (gladly missed those!), crusty bread, a potato and either lamb or pork stew/roast dish and potato tortilla, all with red wine and water. Then dessert was a creamy, liquid custard in a cup with a cookie. It was very eggy flavored with vanilla and cinnamon. I never did get the name of it. We thought perhaps it was flan that hadn´t set, but people said no. Gathered around the long table were people from USA, Canada, Italy, France, Germany, Switzerland, Spain and Sweden that I know of. It was a pleasant part of an otherwise ´rustic´ day.