In October and November of 2015, I walked the Camino Francés, one of the traditional pilgrimage routes to the Spanish city of Santiago de Compostela. It was a deeply emotional journey, with far-reaching implications for my life, and I’m slowly but surely capturing the memories and musings here on my blog. Read the entire series at Anna’s Camino.
When I woke up in Burgos on the second day of my mini “vacation” from the Camino, I very nearly strapped my pack back on and left town. Even though my legs and feet were still hurting, and I wanted to take some R&R, the urge to keep moving was intense. It felt lazy to just sit around for the day, even if I wasn’t exactly going to be sitting. I laid there in bed and did some mental accounting, weighing up the pros and cons of cutting my stay short, and eventually decided to keep the pack where it was for just one more day.
Instead, I packed up my little travel purse with a few things that I’d need for a day of exploring the city, and headed out to see what there was to see. I knew nothing at all about Burgos, so I just went where I felt on a whim. I found a t-shirt shop that had a Rolling Stones-type logo on a shirt, and texted it to my English friend Mark, with a note to hurry up and get to Burgos so I could buy him a pint for his birthday. He responded that he was taking a break, so I wouldn’t be seeing him in Burgos any time soon. I do wish I’d have gotten to see him just one more time, as he passed away in 2016. I wrote about that here.
My explorations led me to a seminary campus a little ways out of the downtown area. The front gardens were beautifully landscaped, and boasted several beautiful little rose bushes. I spent some time carefully inspecting all of the flowers still in bloom, and taking photos here and there. There was an order to the gardens of Burgos that I found highly pleasing, as well as reminiscent of the royal gardens from Alice in Wonderland.
As I was just wrapping up with taking photos of the flowers, and wondering what I should do next, a tall, handsome man strode down the sidewalk. He had bronze skin and high cheek bones, which made me wonder if he was part Native American. Though he was dressed in street clothes, his haircut and bearing made him look every inch like a military man or undercover cop. He carried nothing – no camera or bags. He wasn’t a tourist, or if he was, he had planned his route ahead of time. He made a beeline back to the city gates, and I didn’t think twice – I waited until he was about a block away, then began to follow him, trying not to look suspicious. That, children, is how I ended up pretending that I was on a secret mission with MI6, and tailed a stranger for half an hour through the streets of Burgos. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, and there’s honestly not much of the story to tell, other than the fact that I kept myself amused for far longer than one would expect. I lost him about a block away from the Military Museum of Burgos; he turned a corner and was gone. I amused myself by thinking that he must have been on to me, but eventually I came to the conclusion that perhaps he was just on his way to visit the museum, and made it through the front doors before I came into view.
Spy adventure over, I wandered around town for the rest of the afternoon. I walked over to the municipal albergue to get a new credencial, since the one I’d brought from home was already full of stamps. At the albergue, I once again struggled with being on my own here. I was acutely jealous of the incoming peregrinos, and briefly considered leaving the hotel and coming to stay at the albergue for the night. I reminded myself that the first part of my Camino was over, and it was now time to pen the second volume. It made me feel slightly better, but I still missed being nestled in with all of the other pilgrims at night. After picking up the credencial, I hiked up the hill to see the castle, but it was closed for the afternoon. I took some photos out over the town, then hiked back down. At some point in the afternoon, I also got a FB message from Terry, who was in town. Once again, I mused that it was completely pointless telling anyone goodbye on the Camino. We’d already said goodbye forever twice now, and here we were, making plans for dinner.
After heading back to the hotel room to clean up and get ready to meet up with Terry, I walked down to the cathedral square. I wanted to get a stamp in my new credencial before the cathedral museum closed, and take some pictures of this really interesting bronze statue of a naked pilgrim sitting on a park bench, just past the center of the square.
As I headed towards the cathedral, another interesting person caught my eye. This man was still somewhat far away, and wasn’t carrying a pack, but something about his gait and posture (plus the fact that he was obviously there to see the cathedral) told me that he was a pilgrim. He shuffled across the square in flip flops, khakis, and a plaid shirt. He carried something in front of him with deference – a credencial? A camera? He didn’t pick up his feet as he walked – I think that might be what first caught my eye, because his steps were awkward, like he might pitch forward at any minute, but the rest of his movements implied confidence and openness, and a body that normally had a much surer stride. It was obvious that his feet were killing him, and maybe that he wasn’t used to wearing flip flops. From a distance, I couldn’t quite make out his face, but from the preppy outfit and what I thought from a distance was graying hair, I pegged him to be older, about 40. It struck me that he had an old/young look to him, like an elf. I watched him shuffle across to a park bench, then my gaze was caught by an older couple and their toddler grandson. By the time I turned back, the man was gone. My mind fell off of him completely, and I went about getting my credencial stamped before Terry showed up. I didn’t realize it then, but I’d just caught my first glimpse of one of the most important people of my Camino, Jakob, my German shepherd. It wasn’t until I was already off of the Camino that I put two and two together, and realized who I’d seen there in the square at Burgos. I’ve been keeping it secret ever since, since he’s always bugging me to hurry up and get to the part where we meet. Surprise! (I guess it’s kind of creepy in retrospect, though…oh well.)
Maybe ten minutes later, Terry came along, and we went off in search of dinner – no easy feat at 6pm in Spain. Most places weren’t open yet, or were open and only serving drinks and tapas. After an hour of wandering around, chatting and looking in doorways, Terry eventually strode into a cafe that was open for drinks only, and pleaded a combination of age and pilgrim status to the manager. He took pity on the poor, starving peregrinas and served us a pilgrim menu with no choices. We sat, he brought us what he had, and we ate. I loved that dinner, as it was always a treat to get to spend time with Terry, and also it tickled both of us, I think, to be given pity, but only so much. Also, as I remember, the dessert was excellent.
I walked Terry back to her hotel (which, unlike mine, was both modern and cushy), and headed back home to pack. I’d sent my laundry out to be washed by the hotel that morning, taking a cue from The Way, and wanted to spend some time cleaning out my pack and repacking it a little better before it was time to hit the hay. On my way home, I stopped in at a bookstore and bought an English copy of the maps-only edition of Brierley’s Camino Frances book. It was a fantastic find, one which I wished I’d known about prior to beginning my Camino. I much preferred the advice of the Wise Pilgrim app to anything I read in the full version of Brierley’s work, but it was handy to have paper maps on hand on occasion.
I don’t remember falling asleep that night, but I do remember waking up an hour early the next morning, willing time to move faster so I could get a move on, already. Eventually I gave up and started walking before sunrise. I couldn’t wait to get back on the road, even if it meant giving up my chance at having chocolate and churros for breakfast.
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