Today being Sunday we were up and out the door early as is our practice whether or not in times of Covid-19 self isolation. Being retired helps. We no longer face the daily grind of getting up to go to work and all that entails. We rise early because we choose to do so. There's a subtle and delightful difference.
After all the rain and high winds of the last couple of days the air was crisp, and though we carried our small umbrellas the early threat of rain had passed. We looked to the east to see several massive convective cells doing what they do best. Produce rain.
We were earlier enough to see a couple of small deer herds so common in our area. I think the most I've counted in one place has been 14.
In some ways not unlike the photo of the kangaroos that Neil and Sarah shared with us from one of their walks this week. A welcome addition to my walking blog! Nice to see after the recent years of drought and the horrific Australian fires this year when so many sadly perished. A delightful sign of renewal.
Close to the end of our walk I looked up to see a group of eagles circling. In my experience this is a bit unusual in our urban environment, and we both stopped to watch them drift on the air currents. It reminded me that I'd intended to comment here about my apre-walking shower the other day. There is a large skylight above the shower and when I looked up there was a beautiful bald eagle circling less than a 100m above me. He stayed there for at least two minutes. And me without my camera, lol!
A coupe more deer to round off this morning of walking with some of our local land based critters.
Back on the Camino we chose a short walk today, and by chance one of my favourite parts of the meseta. There's a long grind out of Hornillos and I caught up to this nice Dutch lady who was struggling with sore knees and a slightly oversized pack. She was the first peregrina I'd met since leaving Burgos and it was nice to walk and talk for a time. The Dutch all have such good English language skills.
In 2013 after the storm the trails were a mess and I called the blog post that day simply, MUD!! This was taken looking back down the hill towards Hornillos.
Initially much of the trail was in very poor condition, but things improved as we moved onwards.
It was the type of mud that sticks to your boots like glue. Heavy sticky goop that is really difficult to clear from the treads. We were the envy of many with our light gaiters which kept the mud out of our boots. Something I'd decided to take shortly before leaving for the Camino.
The meseta is big sky country which captured me from almost the first moment. While I thrived under it's broiling hot sun in 2013 and again with Rob in 2016 before transferring onto the Camino Inveirno, in 2018 the freezing wind, snow squalls and grey skies would bring me to understand for the first time why many others dislike walking this part of the Way of St. James. I'm hoping to erase those 2018 memories and rediscover my love for this crossing as we retrace our steps in the coming days.
At least on this cold windy day in 2018 I was able to revel in the sunny blue skies and running horizons. I remember parts of this day with great pleasure.
2013:
2018
I always find my distance vision sharpens when on camino with such distant horizons constantly drawing towards me as I walk.
If a sight like this can't lift your heart when you're all alone...
The bird songs kept me company as I passed the red berry laden bushes. They would seemingly jump from bush to bush just ahead of me. I've seen this again and again on long walks and marvelled how these small birds seem to make a conscious effort to maintain contact with me, to provide company. I probably share my habit of talking to the birds with my father!
Each time I've approached Hontanas I've been surprised. For the longest time I've looked at the horizon wondering when this small town will come into view signalling that shortly I can take a break and get a drink. Both times I've forgotten that this neat little town is set down comfortably into a low valley. One minute it's just an endless horizon out front, the next you're home.
2013:
2018:
2013 and 2018:
In 2013 Annemarie bravely limped into town where we met up with Peter and Dave sitting at a bar and no doubt having a gourmet snack. It was clear that Annemarie was done for the day with still miles to walk. I saw a luggage transfer vehicle pull up and I was able to make arrangements for Annemarie to get a ride onwards to Castrojeriz where we'd booked a camp site. It was a relieved peregrina who climbed into the luggage truck. I know she felt guilty about missing the rest of the stage, but with an injury sometimes you just have to suck up your disappointment and move on. After all, it is what it is.
David and Peter kindly invited me to walk on with them, a very camino gesture and a very good memory for me. However, that's a story for tomorrow's post as we complete our crossing into Castrojeriz.
The town boasts a simple, tidy parish church. When travelling I often find the simplicity of these small churches more appealing than the grandiose style of the big city cathedrals. That said, there is something quite extraordinarily captivating about those massive European cathedrals. On reflection I guess I like them both, but I do enjoy taking a moment in these small churches during long walks when I'm fortunate to find them open. A good place to spend a few moments being thankful for the experiences found on the Camino.
Just because we can, we will stay here tonight on our virtual camino. I know that there is very good accommodation here and the bar here serves pretty good meals. If I took the time to look into it, I suspect I'd find that the albergue offers a communal meal. I wish I was actually there tonight: )
Buen Camino!
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