Rough

San Nicholas to El Burgo Ranero (Sunday, June 13)
It is nice to have our own space to rise and get ready in at the Alburgue Laganares at San Nicholas. And because we are a few kilometers further down the road from where we would need to be by the schedule, we also don't feel so rushed.

We have discovered along the way that if there is a 'scenic route,' or something that is just a little out of the way that someone somewhere thinks we pilgrims should see, then we are routed extra kilometers to make that happen. And so it is on this morning as it looks like we are nearing Sahagun, suddenly we veer off to the right, crossing a road to go over a ways to see a restoration of an historic religious site in progress. It is the Hermitage of La Virgen de La Puenta, and the little bridge that goes with it. (Lots of Virgins over here, apparently!) It is a very cute little bridge, like something out of a fairy tale that one might expect three billy goats gruff to have something to do with. Or trolls. Very picturesque at any rate. The sign explains what is happening with the Hermitage and I can't make it all out. Once again, despite Spain's sagging economy, there seems to be a great deal of construction and restoration going on everywhere we have been!

Our route today takes us through Sahagun, a name I still can't pronounce correctly. The Camino brings us into the city through a not very attractive part of town, but it also ends up being directly by the local bull ring. As I wrote when we were passing through Pamplona, I have no affinity for bull fighting, though I appreciate that some folks think it has its finer points. So does NASCAR, but I don't appreciate those finer points either. They both just seem to involve the outpouring of a lot of testosterone and beer, and sometimes in the case of NASCAR and always in the case of bullfighting, blood. I just have sympathy for the bulls in the case of bullfighting.

As it turns out, Sahagun is in the midst of a several day festival. The day before, they had the running of the bulls. We are walking on several of the streets on which the bulls run as evidenced by the strong, welded gates and railings that herd us and them. There is action going on, however as we walk through about 9 in the morning. Teams of people, all wearing the same colors of shirts are gathering. I wonder if they are for a particular bullfighting team or something. As it turns out, they are flag-bearing teams for cities in this region. We get pictures of some musicians from Leon. They form into a small procession while we are stopped at a pastaleria having some breakfast and catching up with some fellow pilgrims who stayed here over night. Seems they had a big street dance here as well.

After we finish our pastries, we continue on. Apparently, the younger set in Sahagun treats this like Mardi Gras in New Orleans. I am glad that Stella and I are walking together through the couple of blocks of drunken twenty-somethings. They are setting off firecrackers, staggering this way and that and the streets are literally covered with trash and other stuff. It is pretty disgusting. We are glad to be clear of it. We find our way out of Sahagun as quickly as possible, passing yet another piece of public art for the Camino. Sahagun was definitely interesting, with the brightest spot being the delicious pastries made by the sister of the woman who ran the shop! As we are leaving, there is someone parasailing (gasoline engine on a go-cart frame with a parachute above) in circles over the city. Somehow, it seems to sort of cap the festivities there.

We have chosen to take the optional route that takes us through the little community of Bercianos, which is actually following the 'real camino frances,' the Royal French Road, rather than the 'camino roman' or Roman Road. Unfortunately, ours was probably not the most interesting choice. It followed along a never-ending line of poplar or sycamore (not sure which) trees that just kept going all the way to El Burgo Renaro, which like Bercianos, is a town that just doesn't have a lot to recommend it. We stop for a lunch break in one little town. Another has the remains of a belated Corpus Christi festival (perhaps they have to share a priest for their small church and couldn't celebrate on June 6th?) with flower petals strewn in the street and a shrine in the doorway of a house. Another house in a village has folk art in it's metal fencing and in the windows. Along the fence, it looks like small handcrafted whimsical alligators. In the windows, there are combinations of people and animals. They must be fun people that live here on the edge of town. At least it broke the monotony of the rest of the walk this day.

I got to El Burgo a little bit before Stella and couldn't find the alburgue we had discussed and shipped our packs to, even though I asked a couple of people. (I'm actually getting better at understanding people when they respond!) Then Stella showed up and together we located it. But the person who was supposed to be checking us in wasn't there, so another pilgrim was trying to help her out by recording people and checking them in. He gave us bed numbers. Unfortunately, when I went up to put my stuff there, people were already in both our bunks! Neither of us felt like sharing, especially with the people who were there, so I started to shake things up - not meanly, but just pointing out the problem. Apparently not everyone is so persnickety about things like that as we are. Chalk it up to being American (it seems to happen often). We were perfectly willing to take two of the unclaimed beds in another room, but by that time, I had started something, and the man helping out wasn't going to stop until it was straight! Neither of us felt much like laying on our beds after someone else had been on them, but we didn't have much choice. I really didn't like this alburgue much (can you tell?), so I didn't even bother using the shower (it was pretty un-nice, and with cold water) and I just waited for the next place. The one bathroom had two showers, two toilets and one sink to be shared by 32 men AND women! No, it was not clean. No, I did not like El Burgo Ranero.

We had dinner at the private alburgue across the street, which is where we found that the transport company had left our bags. I wonder if they were trying to tell us something? We should have listened! As it turns out, there was a festival in the little square that evening. And who should show up but the same musicians and flag teams, joined by more flag teams from other cities in the region. There was a procession to the square, some kind of official pronouncement. The lady sitting next to me was doing her best to keep me informed. I have tried to perfect the look of understanding on my face while nodding and saying, "Oh, si, si." In reality, I understand about 10% of what someone is conveying, if I'm lucky. Sometimes I ask questions, but that just usually indicates my ignorance and then there is more for me to not understand! I do appreciate their efforts and their infinite patience, not to mention their humor. After the presentation of the flags, men and women folkloric dancers, dressed in traditional garb (antigua tradicional) got out and danced several dances. They had some children dressed up as well, but they didn't dance. And it is not a Spanish town or city without an older gentleman (or two) in a beret, with a bicycle. Or on a park bench. It was a fun way to pass an evening in a town I didn't really like very much.