Wednesday, 18 October 2017
Leon to Hospital de Orbigo
36 km today - 507 km on Camino Frances – 1,242 km from Le Puy - 277 to Santiago
I rise about 07h30 and cajole the sole receptionist to give me access to the microwave in the kitchen: I would like to cook some porridge. Breakfast is at 08h and I eat only cereals and drink only fruit juice. It is still dark and I do not want to miss anything on leaving Leon, so I wander around the block for a short while. Then, as there is a slight drizzle, put on my wet weather gear. This is no more than a poncho (also the ground sheet for my tent) and set off.
The footpaths, gutters and walls at ground level have a never ending set of arrows: I have never felt so confident on leaving any place (except, maybe, for Logrono last year). After about 100 minutes I pass through La Virgen del Camino and a new cafe bar opposite beckons for loo stop and purchase (so I can use the ‘servicios”. The weather seems to be clearing, but I keep my poncho on. And just as well, for not too far down the road the rain becomes quite heavy. My poncho certainly keeps my upper body dry but extends to just above the knees: so the lower 100 mm (4 inches) of the kilt are wet through and (jumping from one extreme to another) I start to think of hypothermia and isn’t good there are so many around to see me fall.
The 22 km mark comes up about 12h30 and so does another ubiquitous cafe / bar. Off again about 13h and into good weather. My kilt is made of thin polyester (but multiple layers) and dried in no time.
I have been walking on the N-120 that started way back in Logrono and has large red distance markers every 10 km from that city. Today I pass the 310 km and 320 km marks that I see. I pass through several villages, none remarkable, and through countryside that is hard to distinguish from much which has gone before.
About 16h I detour off towards my destination for today. The eastern end is not remarkable. But then ahead I see a bridge. It must be about 100 metres long: the story passed down (as I recall it when writing this) is that a relatively wealthy man was keen to wed a certain local lady. To show his ardour he built the western end of the bridge over the stream. No result, so he continues the bridge eastwards. Alas and alack, still no result. Oh well, the town got a bridge that was needed.
The first albergue I pass happens to be operated by the Parish, so E 5 for the night. I go to the supermercado (think two generous bedrooms, while a tienda would be the size of one generous bedroom and stock a much smaller range) and get some food for dinner to cook in the albergue kitchen. During the meal I meet a young American. He is widening his experiences in Spain because food and accommodation is cheap, he says.
And so to bed
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