Camino 1
Trip Start
Sep 04, 2006
1
14
29
Trip End
Dec 2006
Leon, Spain
Saturday, September 23, 2006
I began my adventure to Spain by nearly leaving my passport in Eva's luggage. It was 5 in the morning, which is really my only excuse. We flew out of Stansted airport into Vailladolid and from thence bussed into Leon. Our first day was interesting. Out of the 13 of us, I think about 5 had some Spanish, and only two really well. I learned the essentials quickly, however.
Iglesia (church), pilgrim (perigrino/a), losiento (I'm sorry), Estoy perdida (I'm lost), por favor (please), mas (more/one unit of something), Vino (wine....Mas Vino, por favor), Cervesa (beer), Quanto questa? (how much does it cost?), De Massiado (too much)
Like I said, the essentials.
My full introduction to Spain came on the second or third day, when myself and my comrades climbed out a window of our hotel onto the roof balcony and watched the sun rise over the cathedral of Leon.
From Leon, we hiked what the guide said was some of the more interesting territory and bussed into the towns after a long day. We did that up until Saria (later), at which point, to fully complete the pilgrimage, we were required to do every step by foot.
We arrived in Astorga and took a tour of the roman baths there (goody, more baths). These were made more remarkable by the fact that we then walked 400 meters down a roman sewer. It was (they said) sanitary, but there was still lots of water on the floor and it was dark, which fueled our imaginations.
We passed through several small towns on the way from Astorga to Villafranca, one of which hosts a man running a pilgrim hostel who believes that he is a Knight Templar reincarnated. Ok, takes all kinds. At another of these towns, we were greeted and serenaded by a traditional Galician musician who played a drum and a flute at the same time. I got an excellent video of him, which, computer permitting, I will be able to share.
The most difficult part of the Camino was O Cebrerro, a mountain that was probably as steep as Mt. LeConte back home, but rougher terrain, so more tiring. It was a rough day, but we plowed on. At the top, we met a bus load of middle aged German tourists. I conversed with a few, since I had five or six years of German in school, and it turns out one of the ladies had family in Atlanta. Before they left, she handed me her card and said if I was ever near Munich, I should look her up.
That was the last we saw of the bus. From Saria to Santiago I will put in a different entry, since it was entirely a different experience.
Cheers,
A
