To Leon and Beyond

Moving along the Camino.
Moving along through life.

Sept 12, 2019
Mansilla de las Mulas to Leon
18 km, 33,500 steps (includes walking around Leon for hours and hours)
Walking day #22

and

Sept 13, 2019
Leon to Villavente
32 km, 45,000 steps, walking day #23

Sept 12th 2019
There was quite a broo-ha-ha about how to get into Leon. Conversation started the night before. "Are you walking in, or taking the bus?" Lively discussions focused on whether it was "cheating" to take the bus, in order to maximize the time in Leon. There were many attempts to "justify" taking the bus: "I'll be walking around Leon all day" and "I'll be walking after Santiago to Finisterre". Many times, from many people, could be heard the words: "We all walk our own Camino". Even the guide books gets in on the conversation, offering their own take on the subject. The guidebooks also advise the pilgrims to be prepared for culture shock when they enter a large urban city, after walking through quiet and peaceful fields for the last week or so, since the city of Burgos.

I decided to walk into Leon. If I left early and made good time, I could be in Leon by noon and have until sundown to tour. That would suffice, I believed. 

The lion is the symbol of Leon

Shortly after I began walking, a woman from North Carolina caught up to me from behind. We greeted each other and began a simple conversation. I liked her fast pace, so I increased my speed to keep up with her, with the idea that she could help me get to Leon faster than if I was walking alone. We had a lively chat. Being freed of our daily stresses, worries and concerns, it turns out our relaxed minds all tend towards the same thoughts, feelings and questions. Thoughts like: "Who is that deranged sociopath that has written hate graffiti on every sign since the east border of Spain, and can't this person be stopped?" Feelings like the lovely little sense of relief that washes over you when you spot the next yellow arrow, associated with the questions: "Just who paints all these arrows, anyway?", and "does the same person paint all the arrows along the whole camino?" and "Does the painter have to get permission to paint the arrows on private and or public properties?", also accompanied with the slightest worry: "Is that arrow real, or is someone trying to direct me to a restaurant??" (Because that happens, too).

There wasn't much that was special about the walk from Mansilla de las Mulas, until you approach Leon.  As I rounded a hill, the city appeared, complete with the great Cathedral on the Plaza Regla standing out from the rest of the city, tall and white and spectacular even from that distance.

That's the Cathedral, almost centered on the picture
I do keep cleaning my lens, I swear.

Entering Leon was, indeed, overwhelming. The feel of pavement was new. The smell of exhaust was new. The need to watch for cars (and dodge cars) was new. The need to pick and choose what to see, in what order, and how much time to allot to each thing was new. One of the biggest differences was the magnitude of distance between things, the crowds, and the sheer number of things to see and do.

Big buildings, lots of people.
The guy in the red bucket is tending the balcony garden!

First time I needed to dodge people in about a week!

A village or a town might have one or two historic plaques and one or two churches. Easy to cover before dinner. Leon has so many buildings, churches, plazas and museums that it would take a week to skim them. So I tried to hit the highlights. Most of those highlights are located in the old city, so in one long afternoon it could be possible to see at least the outside of many buildings, and the inside of a chosen few.

St. George slaying the dragon over the door to Casa de Botines, 

one of Gaudi's masterpiece buildings.

One of the gates to the old city

The Cathedral facade

By the time I got around to seeing the Cathedral it was 4:00 pm and I hadn't eaten since breakfast. I was missing my camino family and the dinners that we had been sharing since we first met about 5 nights ago. At first we ended up together by coincidence (fate?) and we enjoyed each other's company so much that we arranged it nightly after that. We hadn't talked that morning because I had left so early. I was a bit emotional that afternoon because this was the last night we could all be together. I had been trying to ignore the fact, but as the day went on it became more and more real. Sioban, Catherine and Martin were flying home the next day, and Patricia and Richard were going to stay in Leon for another day or two. I hadn't had closure with any of them. Patricia was sure we would be together one more time. 

During my walkabout that afternoon I was attracted to a menu item at a restaurant on the Plaza Regla, with a perfect view of the Cathedral. After walking until I could barely walk any more, I returned there to order the meal I had been waiting for all afternoon.  "Insalata Imperiale" (Imperial Salad), which was goat cheese on a bed of arugula and other greens, with walnuts, raisins, and a balsamic and honey reduction. I sat down, ordered the salad and a glass of wine. The nice waitress brought the wine. I wanted to wait for my food, since my stomach was very, very empty. While I waited, I wanted to take a picture of the Cathedral that no-one else has taken. Not easy when your subject is the most photographed building in Leon. Here it is.

That's the Cathedral on the right!

The waitress returned to tell me that the kitchen could not serve goat cheese until the dinner hour (whaaaaat???), but she could make my salad with a different cheese.  I think I actually whined. "But I want goat cheese. I don't want any other cheese." She looked at me sadly, and asked if she could get me anything else. I pouted and said, "no, nada." Oh, the injustice. Oh, the frustration. Oh, the sheer arbitrariness of it all. I'm sure the low blood sugar and fatigue didn't help, either. So I started to drink my wine, and sniffle a bit. After a few minutes, the waitress returned with a menu and asked me if I wanted to look at it. I was really, really hungry. I ordered linguini with puttanesca sauce. It was quite good. 

I ate it slowly and thought about how to make the best use of the rest of the day. 

I think the waitress must have still felt badly for me, because she gave me a free Limoncello in an ice cold glass as an after dinner drink. Here I am, enjoying it at the restaurant in front of the Cathedral. 

It was then close to 6:00 pm. My group of friends had a loose way of meeting. Basically it was "see you around the church, around 6:00 pm." That will work in a one-church village.

In my family we have two sayings that can be applied to this situation. The first is: If you're lost, stay in one place until someone finds you. The other is: If you stay in one place long enough, the whole world will eventually pass you by.

At 6:00 pm I finished my dinner and wandered around Plaza Regla a bit. I wasn't ready to give up on the idea of meeting up with my peeps one more time. When I looked up, there was Martin! The two us looked around the plaza, and there were all the rest of the group! We had one last drink together and shared proper hugs and goodbyes. They all then went off to dinner, and, feeling much better, I went into the Cathedral to see if I could find any other pilgrims. I didn't find any pilgrims, but I did find something quite rare.

The Virgin Mary, about 7 months gone.

Friday Sept 13th, 2019

I knew today was going to be a long day. I was expecting 28 km, and I expected it would take 6-7 hours at a slightly relaxed pace.  

It took two hours just to get out of Leon, through suburb after suburb. 

Just at the edge of Leon a man had set up a booth outside a warehouse. He had water, other drinks, fruit, scallop shells, chocolate and cookies, all available by donation. He also had the door to the warehouse open and a bright and clean washroom for anyone to use. How lovely. We have an axiom in our family. Actually we call it: "The First Rule of Travelling". It is: "When you see a bathroom, use it." I did, and I did.

After leaving Leon, the road led straight for kilometers and kilometers. At first it was very peaceful and beautiful; a rocky path led through low scrub land made up mostly of this very beautiful grey/green/blue/silver scrub. (Read: "However no shade").

This soon changed to farmland. Cornfields as far as you could see, on both sides of the road. The back-lit corn leaves glowed a bright green. Did I say it was very hot? I was also completely alone. Where was everyone?? Siesta, if they were being smart.

I kept checking my google map. The little blue GPS dot just didn't seem to move. The hours and the kilometers were clicking by. Click, click, click.

Are the roads getting longer??

 I had to entertain myself. I started to imagine that I was trapped in a Twilight Zone episode where I was doomed to walk the same path between the same cornfields in a never ending loop. Click, click, click. I started to picture myself crawling, reaching up with one hand, my last word a croak out of my parched throat. Too dramatic. Click, click, click. Finally I saw some rooftops in the distance. They couldn't be more than 4 km away!! Click, click, click. Wait!! What?? Are those buildings getting smaller??

I finally arrived at my destination. Hot, tired, sore, thirsty. I had been walking from 8:30 am to almost 6:00 pm, and the 28 km promised by the guide book was, according to my hosts, more like 32 or 33. As I was walking I was considering how isolated my place was, and I wondered what I was going to do for dinner. If it came to choosing between a walk back to a restaurant in town or a rustle in my pack for whatever edible items were there, then dinner would be a pear, some Nutella and some peanuts. 

"El Peregrino" (The Pilgrim)

My home for the night turned out to be a beautiful farmhouse Casa, basically in the middle of nowhere. There was a stream with trout that ran under the main house, (you can see it through a thick glass plate in the main room!) and a few small private "cabins" that were a cute and lovely as could be. My host hustled me in and offered me a cold drink. He brought an ice cold can of beer, a bowl of peanuts, and a frosted glass. 

Then my hostess greeted me. One of the first things she asked me was "is 7:30 pm a good time for me to serve you dinner"? I felt like I had just found my forever home.

Look at my beautiful bathroom!

There were 8 other women in the Casa for the night. All from Toronto. The first Torontonians that I've met on the camino, and all, of course, very nice.

Dinner was served family style in the main hall at one big long table. Home-grown tomatoes with just the right amount of salt. We all agreed they were the best tomatoes we had ever tasted. Cream of leek soup, chicken Kiev, cheese croquettes and peppers roasted in their outdoor kitchen. Our conversation echoed off the exposed beam ceiling, and a fire crackled in the fireplace at the far end of the room.  

32 km on any surface would be a test for anyone.

I passed!