Week 3
	Fromista to Molinaseca

Fromista has the famous church of San Martin with outstanding interior ornamentations and outside there is an amazing series of 315 beautifully carved corbels, each different and depicting animals, humans, monsters, flowers, etc. Our refugio was almost next door to this church and I saw several coaches stopping there on their Coach Tour Camino. (So did St. Saviours tour after me). Johanna, the young nun, had also turned up here later and so did my Japanese friend. From here I entered the wheat growing area on the high plateau, the Meseta. This very flat vast area with very little shade and strong winds, mostly westerly, went on for many miles until Leon, four days later. It was not the best of scenery, but it had to be tackled just like all the other hills and valleys. Next stop, on May 1st, was Carrion de los Condes in a clean hostel run by the priests sister Margarita Mariscal , who ran the place sternly, but efficiently. On this May Day, all the locals seemed to march through the town with their band playing, another holiday - siesta for them. Whilst waiting for Marianne, who lagged more and more behind, I met another Jose, a local Spaniard, who spoke some German. I had some good time with him and Marianne later in a bar. Also Irmgard with Herbert and Antoinette turned up here and we greeted each other like long lost friends. Many of my friends from earlier days all met again in this interesting town. I also met Walter from Switzerland and Paul from Lousiana, USA for the first time. The main church here, next to the refugio, was called Santa Maria del Camino, and it was worth a visit, built in the 12th century.

The next day I walked with Marianne on a long and lonely very flat stretch with no villages for 11 miles to Calzadilla de la Cueza, where we were glad to find a small bar. Most pilgrims stopped here for a rest, for drinks or food. I had my usual pot of tea. Marianne had even more problems with her blistered feet. She asked me for my unused walking stick, which I lent her. Sadly, we never met again. I only walked on to Terradillos de Tamplarios, 9 km = 6 miles further on that day. This was a small village with a refugio for only 17 pilgrims. No bunk beds here, but extra mattresses were laid down in the dining room when needed. It was run by a very friendly local lady who also runs a small shop, convenient for us. It was here that I refused to stay in the room with 'the snorer'. A thunderstorm threatened but only a few drops of rain fell, after we had all rescued our washing from the lines outside. My Japanese friend stayed in the bed next to me and also in the room were Walter, Kathrin and Nirvati (from Indonesia, but living in Germany). The warden offered us a good evening meal for €6 = £4 and Nirvati and I joined four very young American students, Brian, Katrin, Laura, and Mara at the table. We had lots of wine, of course, and had a glorious evening together. It was here I reached the half-way stage of may walk on day 16, May 2nd, having completed 385 km = 241 miles, not counting any detours.

Nirvati had asked me to walk with her next day. She had lost her companion, who had to stay behind in Burgos through illness. We both got up at 6 am and set off first of all before 7, almost in darkness. We both wanted to catch up with lost time, but I was a bit worried in case she would talk too much, as most ladies invariably do so. We set off at a good pace. She was rather small, but with her two walking sticks, she easily kept up with me, walking a few steps in front, or sometimes behind. So my prayers were answered, not too much talking between us. That day Eve turned up again on our route. We walked through the town of Sahagun, which would have been worth stopping in with its splendid ancient buildings, including the Arco de San Benito, an archway, but we pressed on to Burgo Ranero, another small village in the middle of nowhere. It was a very hot day, but with biting and chilly head wind. Here was a purpose built fairly new building, with all facilities, but no cyclists accepted. I had seen more and more cyclists overtaking me. They could not always cycle where the foot pilgrims went, so had to revert to tarred roads. We got the last two places in this refugio, another friendly place, well run. Maria, who had earlier lent me her spare glasses, was also here. Both Nirvati and I wanted to catch up on lost time, so after an early start we aimed to get to Leon, 2 days walk away, a mere 20 miles = 32 km. Luckily, still no rain. The first part from El Burgo to Mansilla de las Mulas was the longest stretch without shelter, or shade, or water, or food to buy, nothing, but I was prepared. It was 14 miles long. We stopped briefly in Mansilla d.l.M. and pushed on towards Leon.

Leon Cathedral

I remember reaching Leon as I crossed the river Torio with Nirvati and facing another long walk through many streets, desperately looking for these yellow arrows, but very few to find, refusing to jump on a bus, asking the way several times, but finally finding our refugio about 4 pm. It was in a nunnery, but we were seen to by a man. It was very clean and tidy. Here I met Lothar and Werner again, also Flavia and Estefani, happy reunions. As we were near the centre of the town, we walked to the cathedral, a very impressive and beautiful place, especially the many stained glass windows. An important wedding was about to take place, judging by the dignitaries arriving. I also found time to visit the 12th century Basilica of San Isidoro that evening. I went for another 'pilgrim's meal' here with Nirvati, and it was then that she told me she had to leave for home (Munich) next day for family reasons. She was very sad, having walked so far. Evening prayers in the nunnery was almost compulsory. It was a wonderful experience with beautiful singing by the nuns. Pity I did not have my recorder on me. Neli and Herkide, two young ladies from San Sebastian, started their walk here.

I set off a little late next day, Sunday, May 5th, as bread and coffee was offered by the warden for a small donation, together with Werner and Lothar, and we also took Nirvati as far as the railway and bus station, where we left her to get home somehow. I now lost the two boys again, as they would walk a little faster than myself. Werner was the one to set the pace, but although Lothar admitted he would rather walk my pace with me, he mostly tagged on to Werner, his brother-in-law. But I also found that Lothar talked rather more than I could cope with. So we met and parted quite often. I almost forgot that Maria, remember showers in Burgos?, had somehow got me talking about my life story one day, but as I had not finished by a long shot, insisted on having me on another day to complete the story. This was around Sambol, I think. I lost her after El Burgo. In Villadangos del Paramo was my next rest for the night. It was an old school converted for pilgrims with cubicles for 6 with 3-tier bunks and pretty good facilities. Senora Rosaria Franco was the warden here and she offered to do any washing at her home, an offer I accepted gladly. Here I first met Graciela from Argentina and got to know Jose from Barcelona better, the little man on his bike, who mainly came for video filming. I asked him later for a possible copy of his film, and by the middle of October it arrived. An expertly done film about 50 minutes long. Graciela and Jose and myself went out for a good meal nearby and there I met the sisters Barbara and Pilar for the first time. They had Spanish/German parents and spoke Spanish fluently, a useful help later on. A most interesting chap called Alfred from the German part of Belgium (Eupen-Malmedy) turned up here with his friend, who had both walked all the way from home, possibly 1000 miles more than I had. I also came across a handful of other very long distance pilgrims later on.

The bridge at Hospital de Orbigo

I was now heading for Astorga, still past many more green wheat fields, and over another 20-arches and 204 meters long bridge, one of the oldest in Spain, at Hospital de Orbiga. Light rain fell as I entered Astorga. I got a good bed with Walter sleeping in the bunk above me in this quickly filled up refugio in the town centre. I went with Graciela to visit the fine cathedral and adjoining museum, but could not visit the inside of the supposedly gaudy Gaudi construction nearby, closed Mondays.

Cathedral de Astorga

Gaudi Palace at Astorga

The inside and outside of the cathedral is coloured partly in light pink and partly in off white, a strange combination. After Astorga I had to face more hills again, some quite long, steep hills. They were my worst handicap. But the stretch between Astorga and Ponferrada is at the same time one of the most interesting and beautiful of the whole CAMINO. First I reached Rabanal del Camino on Tuesday, May 7th in a refugio called "Gaucelmo", converted for our use and run by volunteers from the Confraternity of St.James in London, this time very efficiently by Gabi and Irmgard. It is next to the Romanesque church of Santa Maria. Vespers, which most of us attended, is held every evening at 7:00 pm, and the singing by the monks here was most impressive. I have some of it on Jose's video. All round a very comfortable, clean refugio with constant hot water and extra blankets, if needed. Next morning, a simple breakfast was offered for a small donation, consisting of tea or coffee, toast and honey. Here I met and sat across at the table with the first English pilgrims, sisters (?) from Manchester. I ONLY met 2 or 3 more English pilgrims, regrettably. It had actually rained quite heavily overnight, judging by the puddles next day.

Wed. May 8th. Climbing higher with every step. It slowed me down quite a bit. My rucksack still weighed 10-11 kg. (24-26 lbs.) Of course, meditation, prayer, and contemplation continued all the time, when not 'disturbed' by fellow pilgrims. At the same time I could admire the countryside with its often-changing scenery, take the odd snapshot or make recordings or listen to chosen music on my walkman. I took a few sips of peach juice or a welcome drink from the occasional cool, fresh fountain and ate a little from my carrier bag supply. As long as I had no pains I was contented. Just to bring one down to earth, there is a cross before Foncebadon, dedicated to a Swiss pilgrim who died here in Sept. 1998. The CAMINO passed now through several abandoned villages high up in the mountains. In one of them, in Manjarin, I found Tomas, in his primitive, but very friendly refugio. (See story in introduction) I stopped for a coffee and a warm up on the open fire, had a chat with Tomas, got his stamp in my pilgrim's record, but forgot to take any photos. Wild dogs were supposed to roam in these abandoned villages. I took precautions, a dog guard or alarm and a stick, but no dogs showed up. Soon after I reached the highest point on the whole way to Santiago. It is marked by a very tall cross and called CRUZ DE HIERRO, at 1504 meters, and the highest mountain nearby is 1517 meters high (roughly 5000 feet).

Highest point on El Camino

This cross is surrounded by a huge heap of stones and each pilgrim is asked to add one more stone, preferably brought from home (!?!) and thrown backwards over your shoulder (why the latter, I don't know). The tiny Santiago chapel nearby, sadly closed, dates from the Holy Year of 1982. (Whenever St.Jame's Day, July 25th, falls on a Sunday, it becomes a Holy Year, the next one is 2004. Pilgrimages seem to double or treble in those years)

I was warned, it is not all the way downhill from here to Santiago. First, there followed a very steep descent to El Acebo, a pretty village, left intact for centuries. A short stop for tea at the only bar there, meeting up with Lothar, Werner, and Walter, and further downhill walking over rocky surfaces, then crossing the river Meruelo over an ancient bridge, Puente de Peregrinos, to my next stop in Molinaseca. A very pleasant refugio (they are constantly getting better, as we near Santiago) with an even more pleasant manageress, Christina. Many of my former pilgrim friends stopped here, including Flavia, Estefania, Neli, Herkide, Lothar and Werner. With the latter two I went to the town in the evening, met a busload of American tourists "doing the CAMINO" in luxurious comfort (by bus, in hotels, and hardly a foot on the ground) then had a good meal whilst Werner insisted on watching a European football match in the bar. Still no rain during walking time.