4/18: Cardeñuela Riopico to Burgos

[4/19: Rest Day in Burgos]

Time: 7:54 a.m. to 12:03 p.m.

Diatance: 8.96 miles.

Steps: 18,727.

Elevation Gain: 79 feet.

Average Walking Speed: n/a

I left Cardeñuela Riopico with the rising of the morning sun. It is my favorite time of day to hike. It’s usually crisp, cooler, and fresher. The colors are more sharp; the light more brilliant. Morning birds sing without their characteristic midday reserve.

I walked on empty village streets populated only by a few curious local cats.  I’m just miles outside of Burgos. Even in the still country air, I can begin to hear the thrum of a major city.

The walk took me through small outer suburban villages. I shared the road with fast-driving commuters zooming into Burgos. Village became town, town became city.

I briefly ran into Australian friends, Stephen and Leslie. We walked together a bit, and then they veered off to a more scenic bypass route. I stayed on the regular path and endured miles of hiking through soulless industrial parks and the long perimeter of an airport. I’m referring to this part of Camino as the “urban Meseta.” [The Meseta is the large north/central table land area west of Burgos noted for visual monotony].

It was painful walking for me as I had a very tight calf. Onwards I trod. I had a lot of time to burn, between my shorter walk today and the allowed check-in time for my 2-day rest apartment in the old city center. I eventually got into the city and began enjoying the better architecture and interesting people.

Again, entering a large city is disorienting for this and many other pilgrims– Camino arrows are fewer, and while pilgrims are often seen around (the backpacks are a big tell), the city is now the show, not the Camino or the pilgrim.

I got to my apartment and was remotely let in by the host. I hiked up four stories of steps to the top unit. It’s perfect. Wood beam ceilings, updated interior, small enough to not get lost, and large enough space to rest comfortably in privacy.

I arrived on Friday midday and stayed through Easter Sunday morning.

Burgos is fun and spirited. The tapas bar culture is energetic. Streets are crowded with locals, tourists, and a scattering of pilgrims. I took rest, shopped, and did a bit of on-foot exploring.

Pointy Hats!

I tried to catch the famous Good Friday parades — the ones with religious floats and oodles of pointy hood-hatted penitents — but the rain moved the show into the cathedral.

While I was outside waiting for the Good Friday parade to start, I caught glimpses of participants in one of the religious fraternities of penitents who make up elements of the larger parade. Somewhat similar in theory to the Krewes in New Orleans Mardi Gras celebrations, but more Catholic and with pointy hats.

The Midnight Band

I went to my apartment to rest and recover. As I was falling asleep, the sound of booming drums, blaring trumpets, and haunting singing voices was loudly outside my skylight window. I peaked out from the roof hatch to catch a glimpse of remains of a street band associated with a nearby church.

Words are inadequate to describe my emotional mix of fatigue, excitement, and being unexpectedly flooded with loud sounds of song and horn and drum. It was new and different and totally unexpected. I was deeply overtaken in those inner places where the lines between my spirit, soul, and mind blur and where I can get simultaneously lost, and found, in the glory of many people joined in celebration and song. Joyful tears and gratitude. I felt so very alive.

Saturday Adventures

For the next morning I had booked a spoil-the-pilgrim brunch spot. The vibe was great, the food was lovely, and I ate way too much.

I spent the rest of the morning taking care of resupply needs for the trail. I was in the center city, so suburban big box options weren’t available. I had to go to numerous small shops to find what I needed. The most helpful was the crowded Bazar el Chino (Chinese store), where I was finally able to find writing paper (you have no idea how hard this has been to find) and eyeglass cleaner wipes.

Burgos Cathedral

Burgos Cathedral is #1 on the must-see list. So, armed with my 50% admission discount (pilgrimage has its advantages), I took a look-see at the Big Kahuna of religious edifices. Like many other European cathedrals, it’s big, somewhat dark, ornate, aged, complicated, and visually overwhelming. I’ve seen numerous European cathedrals before, so I knew my trick for surviving the visual onslaught: I look for interesting details. So here’s a sampling of what I found:

Overcoming My Fear of Tapas

One of my non-spiritual pilgrimage goals for this trip has been to overcome my fear of tapas (small plate yummy bites typically served at a bar).

Let me explain. I’m at a big disadvantage in navigating this distinct culinary culture. First, I am alone (tapas bars are made for groups of friends). I don’t speak Spanish (well, maybe a few dozen words). Then there are complex cultural cues: when are they served? Are they called “tapas” or “pinxtos”? Are they given with a drink order, or must they be purchased separately? The rules vary by region, city, and bar. So, armed with my best muster of courage, I marched into the nearest tapas bar and stood in front of the bar keeper. She gave memone of those “what do you want?” looks. The barkeeper asked what I wanted. I pantomimed eating. Sorry, she says, “food at 8 p.m.”

I return at 8:15 (mustn’t appear TOO eager) and looked at the bar keeper again and asked, “where do want me?” I was directed to a 2-seat hightop in the back (tourist section?) and got to it.

Thankfully,  the menu was in both Spanish and English, so I could figure it out. I ordered, in Spanish, cerveza, taco de pulpo (octopus), taco de Pollo (chicken), croquetas de jamón (ham croquettes), carne de res sobre patatas (beef over potatoes). All small plates and all excellent. Fear of tapas duly conquered.

Pilgrim Lesson: conquering fear largely involves a decision to accept that the potential reward outweighs the imagined cost, which includes deciding that it is irrelevant how foolish you may feel like or appear.

Pilgrim Wisdom: the only good expectation is to expect to be surprised.