This morning we took things a bit slowly given there was only 15 kms left to walk into Fromista. Strong cool winds blowing and lots of cloud helped a little with our decision. By the time we headed out our door the sun was at least out, though the winds hadn't let up. Actually when we found ourselves in the lee of a hill or trees the warm sun felt wonderful as we walked.
We are beginning to form those unique tan lines that distance walkers exhibit. For example, sock lines where our socks block the sun. At the end of each walk our lower legs are covered in dust from the trails. Then there's the tanned lower face and neck areas where the sun finds it's way in. Sunglasses lines and my pale forehead from the necessary hat. I bought a special new hat that I found in California last January to take with me to Europe this month. It would have provided the ultimate protection in southern France and through the heat of the Italian summer as I walked south. I'll save it for gopefully next spring if I'm able to go at that time.
I'm going to miss those walking and travel moments that call to me each year. Feeling a bit melancholy as I write this as it will be the first time in 8 years that I haven't set off on a through walk. I was scheduled to fly out tomorrow, and the reminder stares back at me from the calendar each day. I've basically dealt with this as I think has my buddy Rob who was to have retired and gone for his first retirement walk before later joining me to cross Switzerland. Move on, it is of course what it is...a first world problem. And yet...
The flowers were calling to me as I walked past. I really couldn't say no, and I stopped to connect. The spring colours are always a bit of a treat for the eyes after the drab winter landscape. I'm in my favourite time of year and it will just continue to improve.
Yes, we have rabbit holes here too. Filtered light passing through the fresh greenery.
I guess this is why the leaves fall off the trees, so we'll appreciate their dazzling fresh greens the next spring.
At this time of year, even things that I've seen a million times when I walk have a certain new appeal to the eye. The old gravity feed water tower for the original village community down the hill by the ocean. Resurrected after fire damaged it some years ago.
Something that always helps me to break the melancholy about missing the camino is to write about it. So best to take my mind to our virtual camino. Thankfully we have this.
You'll recall that we ended our last day half way through the original stage, and I was still walking alone. I put this 2013 photo in this morning only to find that Ken posted the same group of flowers today. Ken, is this indeed the same group? Just as you head out of Otero.
Looking back.
Those humps on the horizon seem to take forever to reach.
A long way back to the 18% hill in the very far distance. I'm always amazed by just how far and how fast one can chew up the kilometres.
Almost to the top!
Lonesome poppies. For sure a favourite moment to come across a few of these late season. In 2014 I walked through fields of poppies heading north from Sevilla that spring and again while crossing Sicily in 2018. Some things just stay with you.
It's evident that there's not a whole lot to see on this part of the Meseta at this time of year. Miles and miles of this sort of terrain, though this kid who left central Alberta as a young boy to live on the greener west coast still has a place for this type of vista.
Looking ahead after crossing something of a divide in 2018. It was cold and the cloud with snow squalls was basically down to the ground.
In 2013 it was a beautiful 23 degree fall day. The hay stacks were ready for winter and I was still walking in shorts and a t-shirt.
Hay houses.
Really hard not to love this part of the walk. It was either flat or rolling hills and the miles just ticked off.
This is Boadilla del Camino (the double 'll' is a 'y' in Spanish). The other night Neil and Sarah both spoke glowingly about their memories of a small bar they stopped at here for rest and refreshment before continuing on to Fromista. I didn't stop in 2013 and when I again passed through here in 2018 nothing, but nothing where I could stop to warm up was open. I had to wait until Fromista to find a small store open and a bar where I ate a late lunch before I walked on to find a place to sleep further down the camino that night.
I thought it looking like an interesting, though basic town. Something of a benchmark for the towns we would find as we crossed the Meseta. Old rundown towns and villages generally occupied by the elderly. The young people having travelled to the cities for education and work. Much of rural Europe has slipped into this pattern.
Another mud/straw building. They seem to last a very long time!
2013.
2018 a month later.
Though a bit windblown in 2018, I thought the colours were pretty good, even late in the day.
In 2018 there were clouds of birds keeping me company, and I was happy to hear their calls as they played in the last of the sunflower fields.
Sometimes you see hay stacks that have collapsed like this. Massive bales scattered as if an earthquake has struck. I used to wonder what caused this to happen as I walked past. Clearly there was some sort of a disagreement!
Almost in the middle of nowhere you come across the Canal de Castilla.
So completely unexpected, it's like you've suddenly arrived in Holland.
At almost the same spot in 2018, it remained a welcome sight, and I knew it was coming this time!
It held its own windswept beauty late in the season.
At the right time of year everything is green, and suddenly the walking again becomes a delight. No longer tired of the long flat vistas, there's water, healthy trees and greenery!
The way follows the canal for about 5 kms and leads into Fromista. A decent way to end a stage.
And yet, the Meseta is still just over there.
In 2018 they had introduced a boat transfer service assumedly for the tired pilgrims who doidn't wish to walk in. A surprise to come across!
We stayed in a family run hostel. A lovely family who were very kind to us. We cleaned up and walked back to the main square to join our friends, Peter and David included, for drinks. Later that evening we again went out with David and Peter to find our dinner.
I remember hearing via the jungle drums along the Camino that there was a bedbug breakout in the Fromista albergue that night. A couple of days later we met a young woman who was badly bitten and her gear infested during her stay there. She was warning everyone to check their packs and told us that she was having real trouble finding a place to get her gear treated and her bites attended to. The albergues broke protocol and wouldn't let her in to be cleaned and sorted out. Poor girl. A nice Samaritan drove her onward to a larger centre where she received assistance. We thanked our lucky stars that we hadn't stayed in the albergue!!
Here's Ken's recollections and I suspect we are both talking about the same young woman as we were all (Neil and Sarah as well) in Fromista the same night. They were in the albergue.
3 October, Fromista
26 km today, windy and cloudy and sunny and cool--perfect weather for walking. Polysporin seems to be tackling the weird infection on my chin--I’ll keep applying it. Washed my filthy socks with new Spanish soap when I got here--hope they dry. . . . Municipal albergue here okay; biggish rooms, space, no kitchen but so what.
The reference is to a staph infection on my chin, I think. I wouldn’t have known what it was except for Marianne, who studied microbiology. The municipal albergue was okay but someone in our dormitorio had a bedbug experience.
This is Fromista's pride and joy. The Iglesia de San Martin constructed around 1066 and considered one of the finest Romanesque buildings in Spain. It had a couple of facelifts in the the late 19th century.
Inside it's very simple, and most of the best stuff is on the outside.
In 2018 as I was passing through I stopped to eat and to take in the interior of the church. There was a large group of kids inside and I decided to wait until it was quieter, the best time to view and reflect a little. When the last child departed the door was basically slammed shut in my face as I guess it was closing time. Some greeting for the only peregrino in town! I almost shouted, "Hey, remember us?" Instead I walked off down the road and quickly out of town, thankful that I'd seen it in 2013.
Well, that's it for today! A shorter stage tomorrow to Carrión de los Condes.
Buen Camino!
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