I was off early stopping at the town's only restaurant for a very expensive breakfast, 7 Euros where there had been a reasonable priced pilgrim’s dinner at ten Euros the previous night, go figure. I was hoping to be in Sahagun by lunch and have an early day organising my gear and rest up for the 41 kilometre walk I was planning for the following day. The route I was thinking of taking was the field route with an uninterrupted twenty one kilometre stretch between villages. After Sahagun the road split to one route along the highway with stops and a longer one through the fields, much of which ran along the old Roman road supposedly still intact.
On the way I took a wrong turn outside Ledigos leading some Spaniards down the garden path for a kilometre before I realized I was wrong and stopped. The Spaniards asked a cyclist who pointed to the right way and by the time I got to the next village they were resting and watering up at the village square where one of them gave me a hey Canada and with the two pointed finger sign to his eyes let me know I should take better care with the map. I looked back over at him and just said uno pointing at myself and then looking at all five of them I pointed and said cinque. They made a big laugh out of it every time I saw them over the next week.
It was a lovely quiet morning as I walked through three villages before coming to Sahagun which was a little rough around the edges. The town was brick construction, modern and not the most inviting place but more of a shirt sleeves rolled up working agricultural centre. I found the alberque in an industrial suburb across from the Toro ring and was pleasantly surprised when I went inside finding a calm cool oasis out of the heat with built in bunks that afforded some privacy. I went out and walked around the town finding the square which was very busy for a Sunday afternoon and then checked the way out of town for the morning. At the edge of town I met two Estonians Ain and Ulle and we compared notes.
They were pushing on trying to keep to a schedule. Back at the albergue two Irishmen I knew from Fromista John and John had arrived via a taxi after one John's leg had given out. At dinner I was fairly mocked by them for my intention to walk the 41 kilometre field route the next day which they thought was hilarious asking me if all Canadians were as bent. One leg was 22k between stops. We had a great dinner and after an english girl I had met briefly before Frances arrived late. She was suffering from foot problems but was in good spirits and determined to push on. Wanting a good nghts rest I hit the sack. Two mothers and their teenage daughters were in bunks next to mine and the giggling went on for a while so I played some Bruce Cockburn drifting off.
to be continued
No comments:
Post a Comment