Here we are, two wild and crazy chicas, ready for bed by 9 pm at our lovely little albergue in the tiny Spanish town of Orbaneja. We walked about 14 kilometers today from San Juan de Ortega, and now we're resting before walking about 11k tomorrow to Burgos.
Days without injury: Who knows.
I hope I can finish this blog post before the wifi drops again.
Yesterday (Monday, June 11) we started in Belorado and made it together to Villafranca de Montes de Oca. We had a nice break for cafe con leche where we observed that Winnie Cooper, who we've been tracking for a couple of days now, was having coffee in the same shop. "That Winnie Cooper, she's flying," I said. "Winnie Cooper is the bomb," Gina responded.
Soon after our coffee break in Villafranca de Montes de Oca, I threw in the towel and decided to take a taxi to our final stop, San Juan de Ortega. Gina plowed on by herself, in what proved to be about 2.5 hours trudging in mud, mud, mud.
As she took off up the trail, I waited outside a bodega with Bushy Eyebrows, an older (maybe late 60s, early 70s?) French guy who can't seem to find anyone to talk with. He stood a while with me and seemed confused why my companion left without me. I said, "Taxi. Mon pieds, tres mal." "Ah," he said, nodding, excusing my poor French.
Then he took off himself in the direction of San Juan de Ortega, and I mused about my total lack of interest in pushing through pain to do almost anything. Nope, I'll just wait here for a taxi and not feel too bad about it. I will stand here and consider my deeply held inability to try super hard to do anything.
Is this what this whole Camino thing about?
So we stayed at San Juan de Ortega last night, a super old (16th, 17th century?) monastery that has served as a pilgrim albergue for hundreds of years. We were in a dorm with at least 18 bunks -- three rooms held as many bunks in each -- and almost every bed was taken last night. I felt like a poseur: everyone else was like Gina and had walked to San Juan, and those last few kilometers were brutal, muddy and slick. Everyone had filthy boots, socks and pants ... Except me. Ah well.
This morning we were on our way by 7:45 or so. We put on our boots at the same time as Bushy Eyebrows. He asked if we were sisters -- at least that's what I understood. Luckily my limited French includes the phrase "her father is my brother," and Bushy Eyebrows nodded so I guess I said it clearly enough.
We stopped after walking about an hour to eat at the CUTEST PLACE EVER. It appears to be an old house -- again, how old? super old -- and the senora making breakfast was very friendly and pleasant. I could have stayed there the rest of this trip.
Also eating breakfast at this little house was Ivan, a blind guy, maybe around 30? who is walking the Camino accompanied by two other men, one of whom is another guy from the U.S. around 30 and an older (50ish?) German man. Ivan is fluent in Spanish -- my guess is that he's Hispanic from the U.S. --- and served as the translator for his little crew. My theory is that he might be blind due to a military accident, as the other guy from the U.S. who is with him seems to be military in his bearing, etc.
Later in the morning, when we passed through Atapuerca (site of the excavation of the earliest human remains), we ran into Winnie Cooper. We introduced ourselves -- turns out she's really Eileen from New Zealand, hiking the Camino alone, taking her time. We're going to keep calling her Winnie Cooper.
It did sprinkle a bit today, and "The rain in Spain" from My Fair Lady kept playing on repeat in my brain.
Early afternoon we arrived here in Orbaneja, and for some reason we got lucky: Gina and I are the only people in one room which has four beds; the other rooms seem to be full. Not sure why no one else was sent to our room, but we'll take it.
We were here early enough to wash out a few of our clothes. As I was draping things on the drying rack, in walked Bushy Eyebrows. "Bonjour!" I said, "Bienvenue!" successfully using up all my French in one day.
Bushy Eyebrows isn't the only person desperate to find someone to speak with in their own language: Gina and I appear to have been adopted by an Austrian woman who can't find anyone who speaks German, and she doesn't seem to know any other language. The three of us had an awfully awkward dinner together tonight.
So, tomorrow is Burgos. Hopefully we'll be there early enough to visit some sites -- the cathedral is supposed to be beautiful, and Burgos has the human evolution museum, which my 6th grade science teacher companion should probably check out.
Thanks for all the good wishes
Days without injury: Who knows.
I hope I can finish this blog post before the wifi drops again.
Yesterday (Monday, June 11) we started in Belorado and made it together to Villafranca de Montes de Oca. We had a nice break for cafe con leche where we observed that Winnie Cooper, who we've been tracking for a couple of days now, was having coffee in the same shop. "That Winnie Cooper, she's flying," I said. "Winnie Cooper is the bomb," Gina responded.
Soon after our coffee break in Villafranca de Montes de Oca, I threw in the towel and decided to take a taxi to our final stop, San Juan de Ortega. Gina plowed on by herself, in what proved to be about 2.5 hours trudging in mud, mud, mud.
As she took off up the trail, I waited outside a bodega with Bushy Eyebrows, an older (maybe late 60s, early 70s?) French guy who can't seem to find anyone to talk with. He stood a while with me and seemed confused why my companion left without me. I said, "Taxi. Mon pieds, tres mal." "Ah," he said, nodding, excusing my poor French.
Then he took off himself in the direction of San Juan de Ortega, and I mused about my total lack of interest in pushing through pain to do almost anything. Nope, I'll just wait here for a taxi and not feel too bad about it. I will stand here and consider my deeply held inability to try super hard to do anything.
Is this what this whole Camino thing about?
So we stayed at San Juan de Ortega last night, a super old (16th, 17th century?) monastery that has served as a pilgrim albergue for hundreds of years. We were in a dorm with at least 18 bunks -- three rooms held as many bunks in each -- and almost every bed was taken last night. I felt like a poseur: everyone else was like Gina and had walked to San Juan, and those last few kilometers were brutal, muddy and slick. Everyone had filthy boots, socks and pants ... Except me. Ah well.
This morning we were on our way by 7:45 or so. We put on our boots at the same time as Bushy Eyebrows. He asked if we were sisters -- at least that's what I understood. Luckily my limited French includes the phrase "her father is my brother," and Bushy Eyebrows nodded so I guess I said it clearly enough.
We stopped after walking about an hour to eat at the CUTEST PLACE EVER. It appears to be an old house -- again, how old? super old -- and the senora making breakfast was very friendly and pleasant. I could have stayed there the rest of this trip.
Also eating breakfast at this little house was Ivan, a blind guy, maybe around 30? who is walking the Camino accompanied by two other men, one of whom is another guy from the U.S. around 30 and an older (50ish?) German man. Ivan is fluent in Spanish -- my guess is that he's Hispanic from the U.S. --- and served as the translator for his little crew. My theory is that he might be blind due to a military accident, as the other guy from the U.S. who is with him seems to be military in his bearing, etc.
Later in the morning, when we passed through Atapuerca (site of the excavation of the earliest human remains), we ran into Winnie Cooper. We introduced ourselves -- turns out she's really Eileen from New Zealand, hiking the Camino alone, taking her time. We're going to keep calling her Winnie Cooper.
It did sprinkle a bit today, and "The rain in Spain" from My Fair Lady kept playing on repeat in my brain.
Early afternoon we arrived here in Orbaneja, and for some reason we got lucky: Gina and I are the only people in one room which has four beds; the other rooms seem to be full. Not sure why no one else was sent to our room, but we'll take it.
We were here early enough to wash out a few of our clothes. As I was draping things on the drying rack, in walked Bushy Eyebrows. "Bonjour!" I said, "Bienvenue!" successfully using up all my French in one day.
Bushy Eyebrows isn't the only person desperate to find someone to speak with in their own language: Gina and I appear to have been adopted by an Austrian woman who can't find anyone who speaks German, and she doesn't seem to know any other language. The three of us had an awfully awkward dinner together tonight.
So, tomorrow is Burgos. Hopefully we'll be there early enough to visit some sites -- the cathedral is supposed to be beautiful, and Burgos has the human evolution museum, which my 6th grade science teacher companion should probably check out.
Thanks for all the good wishes
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