Day 23, June 30th, 2023
Help, an earthquake!
Oh wait, no, my bedmate in the bed below me has just turned over. I am shaken by violent aftershocks as she starts packing her things at 5:30. Lukasz is already finished and has set off for León, which is also my destination for today.
Unbelievable, it is only eight degrees Celsius outside! Some days ago it was sweltering, and now I am wearing every piece of clothing I have. And the forecast for the next few nights isn't much warmer. I think it was the right decision to send my tent home. Since then I feel so much freer and no longer have that pressure that I have to camp to make it worthwhile, just because I am lugging my tent around the whole time. Now I would love to relive those first two weeks with the same mindset I have now, to be a pilgrim rather than a tent hiker, simply traveling with only the bare essentials.
It's a mere nineteen kilometres to León today. The digit 'one' at the beginning of the distance almost seems ridiculous to me now. Many pilgrims take a rest day in León, but I am not in the mood for another big city. One afternoon is fine so I can get an impression, but I don't want to explore Burgos. I am excited, because apparently the way from León onwards is supposed to be very beautiful with the landscape being similar to the foothills of the Alps, with lots of forest and quite hilly terrain. I am really looking forward to that, but for now, it is straight ahead to León. And if possible, I would like to find a nice little warm café in the next town and have a leisurely breakfast there, please!
After five kilometres I reach Villamoros de Mansilla, a tiny village that was inhabited by the Moors hundreds of years ago. The water from the village well is said to have healing powers. Interesting, as Lukasz would probably say, but I much prefer coffee, which I believe also has healing properties.
At the entrance to the village, there is actually a sign for a café, and it is not hard to find among the few houses here. Shortly after me, annoying Richard arrives, orders a beer for breakfast and starts pacing restlessly from one spot to another. His phone charger has broken, and now he is looking for someone to help him out. So I plug his phone into my charger, but I can only charge it to about five percent because I want to move on.
»Thank you Stef, thank you so much! I really appreciate it, thank you! You helped me a lot, thank you so much. That's really great of you, thank you! Thank you so much. Really great!«
»No problem, Richard. Take care!«
»You too, Stef, take care. And thanks again!«
Gosh, it was only five percent. I can't imagine his gratitude if I had fully charged his phone.
Just before León, the endless straight stretch of the Meseta finally ends. The area is anything but nice though; I have to walk quite a way alongside a motorway, and the closer I get to the city, the more asphalt, traffic, and industry surround me. In the thirteenth century, this area was home for many artisans and merchants. Later, in the Middle Ages, the cattle trade brought prosperity to the city. Today León is a university town and hopefully nicer closer to the old town than it is here.
Still some way off the old town, I see Maria standing in front of a hostel, without flapping-Manfred. Maria says, he wanted to rest a bit and plans to meet her later at the cathedral. Maria is about to check in a hostel in this dreadful area. It doesn't even occur to her that it is usually nicer in the old town, and that is where most of the pilgrim hostels are located. I quickly convince her to walk a little further with me, for which she soon thanks me, because we get a bed in a municipal hostel right in the heart of the old town for only eight euros. This hostel is run by hospitaleros and Benedictine nuns. The former convent is enormous, with well over a hundred gender-segregated beds and only three hundred metres from the Cathedral of Santa María de Regla. Here I also get a new pilgrim's passport as my current one is almost full of stamps.
As shabby as León's outskirts are, the old town is truly beautiful. So vibrant with its many cafes and restaurants, romantic squares and narrow cobbled streets. I can easily imagine spending a weekend here with David and a few friends, partying and strolling. And right next door, in the Plaza de Regla, stands the Santa María de Regla, often described as the most beautiful cathedral in the country. It was built in the thirteenth century in the Gothic style and has been expanded and restored over the centuries. Particularly impressive are its more than 1800 square metres of medieval stained-glass windows, depicting biblical scenes, saints and ornamental patterns. Light floods the interior of the cathedral through them in a variety of colours, which is why it is also known as the "Cathedral of Light."
At the Plaza San Martin, I sit down at an outdoor restaurant and order a salad and some fries. A short while later, the waiter returns to my table and says he would only bring me the salad, and instead of the fries a small portion of tapas, which came with the salad anyway. He adds that these tapas include potato wedges, as anything else would be too much. Before I could even process his words, I agree, but am left feeling a bit confused. What exactly am I getting, and how much? Well, the salad is indeed very large. I dump the few potato wedges from the tapas onto my salad, whereupon the waiter returns a short time later and wordlessly places another small plate of potato wedges in front of me. He must have noticed, judging by my feet in wool socks and sandals under the table, that I am a pilgrim and therefore must be quite hungry.
After a short nap at the hostel, I buy a small baguette with seeds, two peaches and hummus at the supermarket, which I devour while sitting on the steps by the cathedral. The toilet situation is still unresolved - I need fibre. But most importantly, I need coffee in the morning, and that remains a major problem.
I have really drawn the short straw with my bed again. Right next to my head is the door to the corridor, and directly behind it is the toilet. Every single person in this enormous dormitory, which consists of several aisles with even more bunk beds in rows, has to walk past me. There is a constant flow of people coming from both directions. The toilet door is slammed shut repeatedly, and I wonder why some people have no consideration and can't think ahead?
Distance: 18,4 km / Steps: 39415