Day 14, June 21st, 2023
Remarkable how well I am sleeping on the Camino. So far I haven't had a single bad night's sleep. At home I often lie awake, thinking and thinking, and that robs me of sleep. Here, everything is fine. The only thing that worries me right now is my digestion. It has been completely stagnant since I was ill. That was seven days ago, far too long. In Villafranca I want go to the supermarket and buy certain things like yogurt, fruits and other healthy items. I wish I hadn't stuffed myself with so many charcoal tablets. It is also not really helpful that it often takes ten kilometres in the morning before I can get my first coffee.
This morning I get my beloved coffee right after I get up, and this is at 6:30 in the brothers' kitchen. Txema has already set the table with baguette slices, biscuits and apricot jam. Unfortunately the coffee doesn't have much of an effect, so I am hoping for better results after my yogurt later.
It is foggy and drizzling. Txema is standing in front of the house with the cat in his arms. I hug him goodbye and almost cry as I leave. I have never experienced anything like yesterday before.
With my headphones on I follow the yellow arrows and hike through thick fog out of the village of Tosantos. I can't see much of the landscape, but I can imagine how beautiful it is here. The temperature is pleasant and the light drizzle provides a welcome refreshment on my skin.
As for the yellow arrows who mark the way to Santiago de Compostela, without them everyone would probably get lost on the way. These arrows are mostly sprayed with paint, sometimes on house walls, sometimes on the ground or on rocks along the way. The idea came from the Spanish priest Eliás Valiña who personally began to paint the arrows in the 1980s to signpost the way better. The yellow color was supposedly a coincidence as he used paint cans left over from the signage on the main road, the N4.
There are also normal metal signs or milestones, that point the way, and the latter indicate the kilometres to the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. And sometimes other pilgrims place arrows made of stones along the path.
A mini-supermarket is just opening in Villafranca when I pass. I buy yogurt, a piece of packaged cake, goat cheese, a fresh bell pepper, a peach, an orange and nuts. I am carrying all of this in a plastic bag - I look like a complete slob in my yellow Mickey Mouse poncho, the sandals and hiking socks and this bag. But nobody cares, least of all me.
Just beyond Villafranca the road climbs into the Montes de Oca, the last geographical elevation before the Meseta in the Castilian highlands. It is so quiet, I hear nothing but the patter of raindrops falling on the lush vegetation. Then I switch back to my favourite music which enhances the atmosphere even more. It is so beautiful walking through this misty forest, it has something magical about it.
I sit down at the edge of the woods, eat my orange and yogurt and tend to my feet. I have got a new blister on my little toe. So annoying. Plus I have accidentally bought fruit yogurt instead of plain yogurt. Annoying too.
Some pilgrims are passing me, those who started in Belorado, the town before Tosantos, and have now caught up with me, including Roly and a couple I haven't mentioned yet: Hannah and Paddy from Manchester. I first met them shortly before Villatuerta, the day before I fell ill. I was sitting completely exhausted on a wall in a tunnel under the A12 when they walked by. Hannah noticed how drained I was and gave me a fruit drop. I will never forget the explosion of flavour that sweet produced, nor the warmth with which Hannah gave it to me. She was simply bubbling with positive energy. She reminded me so much of my cousin Ela and evoked such warmth and familiarity within me. And here I bump into them again after so long, even though I was stuck in Estella for two days. Hannah explains that they take longer breaks and do the entire pilgrimage in stages. She would gladly buy me a beer in the next town where we would surely meet again, as they plan to stay there for a while.
I get up from my spot at the edge of the woods and continue walking only to soon passing a proper picnic area. Bummer, if I only knew this before. There is a stall selling snacks and coffee, music is playing and there are benches. But how would you know or even guess this, here in the middle of the forest.
Sure enough Paddy and Hannah are sitting in the first bar in San Juan de Ortega having a drink. I join them for a beer, and Hannah mentions that Richard is around somewhere here too, asking if I knew him. What, that annoying Richard from Los Angeles with the silver braces? Hannah says he is a little behind us and could come around the corner any minute. Strange, I wound't mind to see him again. Hannah also suspects that something is going on with Richard mentally. Apparently started belting out a Bruce Springsteen song in a church. But I am sure that is just Camino gossip, and that the truth is something else entirely.
Paddy and Hannah are planning to walk to Atapuerca today which is six kilometres away from here and my destination too. Atapuerca gained international fame in 1994 due to fossil discoveries. Eight hundred thousand-year-old bones, which could be attributed to the genus Homo, were found in various caves.
When I get there, I head straight for the first hostel I find, and I am incredibly lucky to get a bed. My feet are hurting terribly at this point. I share my room with two middle-aged French women and a heavily tattooed Italian man in his mid-thirties with very rotten teeth. The two French women warn me that Nicola - that's the rotten-toothed Italian's name, snores very loudly. No problem, I think, I have got my earplugs.
Hannah and Paddy arrive now as well. They have apparently stopped at some bar again, which is why they are so late. They have booked a private room which they always do, and are staying in the building next door. Paddy lies lazily on the hostel's lawn while Hannah and I go to a nearby supermarket to buy something to eat and drink.
On the way back I can only move in slow motion again. Oh these pains! We meet a young woman I have seen a few times before and who is Holly from Leeds. She caught my eye because she looks like Otto Waalkes, a famous German comedian, and her huge shapeless black rucksack hangs practically down far over her bum.
I ask her where she is going now, because a terrible thunderstorm is about to roll in. Oh, she says, the hostel has no more beds available, so she is just walking to the next town. I am shocked because there is no doubt the weather is about to get really bad, and she wants to walk another seven kilometres through the middle of nowhere? However, Holly seems completely relaxed and sets off. She is a grown up woman and should know what she is doing, but I am worried nonetheless. And it really isn't long before it starts pouring with rain and thunderstorms. No one expects it to last all day, so Hannah, Paddy and I don't say goodbye to each other as we take refuge in our accommodations. Fact is, we don't see each other ever again.
Rotten-tooth-Nicola has collected loads of mushrooms in the forest along the way and is now preparing them in the kitchen for his Camino friends. I am treating myself to a microwave paella from the supermarket instead, which isn't bad at all, but I would have preferred Nicolas tagliatelle with mushroom sauce. The whole hostel smells of it.
Afterwards I lay exhausted on my bed thinking of Holly. Lightning flashes and thunder roars, the world feels like coming to an end, and she is out there somewhere because there was no more bed available for her here. The way can be brutal. It could have happened to me just as easily, but I would have had my tent as a backup. Too late now. I hope Holly arrives safely in Cardeñuela Riopico and finds somewhere to stay.
Aki by the way has already reached the Meseta, and Andrew is even two stages ahead. I am afraid I will never see either of them again. That would be a real shame. I would also love to see Lukasz again, but I know absolutely nothing about him.
As I lay there I hear Justin talking to a Frenchman in the corridor. They are apparently discussing why they are walking the Camino, and they both seem to have the same reason, and that is depression. What? The young boy from Australia who loves playing the guitar and already seems so adult is suffering from depression? I didn't expect that. He is practically still a child! This touches me because of David, who also had to endure many depressive episodes due to his bipolar disorder, but is luckily now well-managed with medication.
Justin und der andere junge Mann reden lange und offen im Flur vor meiner Tür, ich kann alles mithören. Am liebsten wäre ich raus gerannt und hätte Justin in den Arm genommen.
Distance: 25,3 km / Steps 41669
Looking at the clip, I can now see how beautiful the surroundings are without the fog. However, without the fog, the atmosphere in the forest wouldn't have been as lovely (from about 4:30 onwards).