Saturday, 14 October 2017
Carrion de los Condes to San Nicholas del Real Camino
30 km today - 406 km on Camino Frances – 1,151 km from Le Puy - 378 to Santiago
I am awake at 06h30 and my two (male) room mates have already left. I prepare my stuff and am the other side of the town by 07h30. Then down an ancient bridge (too dark to appreciate) that is about 5 metres (and maybe more) higher at the town end than the opposite bank. While I didn’t see any in this town (too dark) many towns had walls and ramparts to protect them in the middle ages and a river on a boundary also helped.
Today has the longest (but only just) stretch without a watering hole: 17 km. However, sunrise is over an hour way and the road already has many pilgrims. And for about 6 km it is a road with almost no cars etc. After the sealed surface runs out there is a very even lane for agricultural services. About another 6 or 7 km on there is a shelter with a very large and overflowing rubbish bin. I take off my long sleeve tops and replace with one short sleeve one: and throw a banana skin in the rubbish bin. I am nearing the end of the alignment of a Roman road that from Carrion to Leon and then to Astorga. This early in the morning it is a dream to walk, though I have to be fit and have stamina.
At the 17 km point I descend down, round a bend and there is a welcome sight ahead to my left: at least 20 seats set around tables with sun umbrellas. This is Calzadilla de la Cueza. It is just after 10h30 and I am amongst the first to arrive, but not by much. I notice at least two other bars/cafes with a handful of chairs each and no tables doing little trade. I ask for a zero dot zero beer and a glass of zumo de naranja natural (natural orange drink – freshly squeezed). Outside there is a great hub-bub and the new arrivals chat to one another. I am soon off.
The next town is Ledigos. Some times you get a feeling on not being wanted. Ledigos exudes some of that: all the camino direction signs I see have been blacked over, but the locals seem friendly enough. Another stop for zumo de naranja natural and off. The blacked out sign strike again. If t were not for a local motorist I may have gone several hundred metres more before turning back and picking up the track from my maps. And what a terrible path it is: stones of an awkward size all over it. Even the approach into the next town, Terradillos de los Templarios, is one of the worst I’ve come across. And the only local I see takes one look at me and turns away without any greeting.
I take to the N-120 for the last stretch to San Nicolas del Real Camino, arriving there just before 15h. The welcome is efficient and friendly and I soon have a large cold glass of Sangria to hold onto. Sock and top washing is the order of the day and soon put on a rack to dry.
It has not been particularly hot today. While there are about eight in the albergue only four sit down to dinner at 19h30. An American in his later 30s who completed at Santiago a year or so ago and now is doing what the original pilgrims did, return from whence they came. A Spaniard (I think) who has limited English and a former nursing sister and matron from the Kingdom of Fife (for Sassenachs: that’s the part of Scotland across the Firth of Forth from Edinburgh and where the first Scottish king was crowned) while her husband lies ill above us.
Not only is there a top sheet but also a blanket: I relish the luxury.
And so to bed
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