Camino Postcard 19: Calzadilla de la Cueza to Moratinos

29.4.19
Day Seven on the Meseta

For a few kilometres after leaving Calzadilla de la Cueza today, we were silent pilgrims. Perhaps Ellena was still feeling the effects of last night’s pain. As she was the glue that held the group together, we were fractured without her.

We kept walking. ln my journal, I have noted that although we were still on the meseta the path was a bit more varied than yesterday. I then spoil the effect somewhat by adding ‘Well, there were a couple of elevations, anyway’. Insert facepalming emoji here.

We came to a little town named Ledigos. There, we saw a sign that said ‘373,870 Kms a Santiago’. After what seemed a very long time, we were now less than 400 kilometres away from our ultimate destination! This knowledge was a great psychological boost. And what it also meant was that we were now definitely over half-way there. Sahagun may be the official half-way point, but we had now walked over half of the Camino.

We stopped at a café for breakfast. Not long after our arrival, Colleen walked in, as did Tony – he had stayed behind at Calzadilla this morning to tend to his blistered foot.

After we left Ledigos, the group spread out. Ellena walked ahead with Tony. I tried to keep up with them but could not. My leg was feeling better after yesterday but was not up to matching Tony’s pace. I remembered some wise advice that Colleen had given me about walking the Camino at my own pace and started to do just that. The day immediately got better.

Along the way, I saw an albergue named after Jacques de Morlay, the last Grand Master of the Templar Knights. As well as winning (and losing) the Holy Land, the Templars also provided places of refuge and rest for pilgrims to Santiago so he has a good place in my books.

Carolin and I also saw a cat on the prowl, which was a very neat sight.

As we walked, we also saw a very strange sight – doors appearing in the side of mounds. What were these – hobbit holes?

A concrete path took us into Moratinos. Embedded in it were, of course, paw prints. A lovely, funny sight!

Ahead of us and to the left, at the bottom of the incline was our albergue. Well, not ours yet – we neither owned nor had pre-booked it – but it was the one where we would soon decide to stay for the rest of the day and overnight. Ahead of us and to the right was a hill with more doors running around their side.

Fortunately, they did not look evil (moor doors > Mordors > Mordor – geddit? I’m here all week)

After checking in and relaxing with a beer, Ellena and I investigated the hill more closely. Here is the sign we saw:

We both laughed. I was, and remain, impressed at the extent of Tolkien’s cultural influence.

During the course of the afternoon, we met up with Lillian again. Tony, who had walked with us from Ledigos, decided to keep going. The albergue dorm was very small – there were just three bunk beds in our room. As Moratinos was not the end of the stage, relatively few pilgrims stayed here overnight; as a result, Ellena, Carolin and I almost had the room to ourselves. The only other person to share it with us was Lillian.

Today, I received good news from home – my friend E. who suffered two serious bouts of bad health last year sent me a text to say that he had just received a promotion. He is a police officer, and had to sit the promotion exam just after the second bout, when I and others were telling him to forget about it and relax. After spending all summer revising? he said, No way! I was ever so pleased for him as he is a natural police officer and the Met need people like him as high up as possible.

Back at Moratinos, Carolin and I ate dinner while Ellena rested – she was not feeling well enough to eat a full meal; we took her something to eat and drink later. As Carolin was not a confident English speaker, and I couldn’t speak German, we used Google Translate to speak to each other. It was every bit as cheesy as you might think but funny all the same.

Camino Postcard 18: Carrión de los Condes to Calzadilla de la Cueza

28.4.19
Day Six on the Meseta

This was a tough day to walk, and is a tough day to talk about. The two key words for it are sore and monotonous.

I was sore; or rather, my right leg was. I should have taken ibuprofen for it but didn’t. That was a mistake and robbed me of such enjoyment as I could have taken from the monotonous walk.

So, about that. The path cut a straight line through the fields of the meseta. As far as I remember, deviations only occurred when it sometimes dipped or rose according to the contours of the land.

With all that said, however, the morning – for we arrived in Calzadilla de la Cueza around midday – was not without its charm.

As we walked through Carrión at the start of the day, we stopped for a quick second breakfast. We ate doughnuts that we had bought yesterday. This led to much posing like Kate Winslet in Titanic on the sitting stones nearby.

Won’t you draw me like one of your French pilgrims

mmmm you sexy beast.

Ahem.

Moving swiftly on – one reason we bought the doughnuts was to insure ourselves against failure to find anywhere to eat later on. Fortunately, however, we found two cafés along the meseta path. One was a van-café, and the other a stand next to a crumbly shed. We stopped here.

While we ate, Ellena played with a dog the size of a very big dog that I would never have dreamed of going near in case it bit my whole leg off. She, of course, had no fear about playing with this mighty beast. And no wonder, it was very well behaved and frankly a bit of a goofball.

As you can see from the photograph above, we saw mountains in the distance today. Well, not just today, but anyway – Someone asked us if they were the Pyrenees. Woe to us if they had been as it would have meant that we had managed to walk in a circle over the last two weeks.

It’s funny, though, how – in the absence of a map – our sense of place can suffer so badly. Did you know that when Alexander the Great was in Afghanistan, he thought he was not far from Europe?

But let me not laugh at the person who thought these mountains were the Pyrenees as I have to admit I have no idea what this mountain range is called. Please leave a comment if you know.

We left the lovely, goofy Huge Dog behind and continued walking – straight on, under the sun, no cover, drinking our water,

slog

slog

slog

until we walked over a crest and saw a hamlet ahead of us – Calzadilla de la Cueza. It was a blessed sight.

Calzadilla ahoy

Two albergues greeted us as soon as we entered the hamlet. We picked one, dumped our backpacks and joined our friends outside for a beer.

Later on, a photograph was taken of me sleeping. I look very silly in it – yes, even more than normal, thank you for saying – and so the photograph has been deposited in a bank vault for all eternity. I took a photograph of Lillian and Tony looking like mafiosi. It’s one of my favourite Camino pictures as you could not meet two more unmafiosi like people. What can I say, but that I like a cheeky juxtaposition from time to time.

Our albergue didn’t make meals so in the evening we all descended upon a hotel dining room to eat. I met Colleen from Montana again, who rescued me on the first day with a bottle of water, and Alex from Bavaria who I think I also met that day with another German fellow – the latter had since left his company. One pilgrim went missing halfway through their meal, never to be seen again (that night, anyway, and only by me, as far as I remember) and the rest of us had a very pleasant time. Well, to a point (Lord Copper): Ellena was struck by pain later on and another part of my dodgy front tooth broke off today. The larger part of it remained intact but would the rest survive the rest of the pilgrimage? (Narrator: Yes, it did).

Wait. What. How did this get here???