Leon to Mazarife

Day 21 (Tuesday 28 May) 317 kilometres to Santiago. I wake to the sound of my escalating church bells alarm at 06:00 and am out the door 40 minutes later. The sky is mostly clear and the temperature is about 7 Celsius. For the first time, however, there is a moderate wind blowing from the north that persists all day. As I head west across the rio Bernesga I notice that 2 or 3 people have dossed down for the night in the small anteroom of a bank, where a 24-hour ATM is located. They must really be on a budget.

Given the size of the city, it takes me about an hour and 40 minutes on hard pavement to clear the last of the residential and industrial suburbs. It's like walking into Burgos in reverse. There are alternative destinations available today - Villar de Mazarife and Villadangos del Paramo, both about 22 kilometres away. I want the former, but it takes some careful looking to spot the turn off from the route that most other pilgrims seem to be following. I make what I think is the correct hard turn to the left and am rewarded shortly thereafter with a Camino trail marker. When you're not absolutely sure of your decision, these markers are a small relief. Good friend Kenn Moody has a natural sense of direction, so he would be much better at this than I am. In any case, I'm muddling through. I stop for coffee and croissant (breakfast) at Fresno del Camino, about 10 kilometres from Leon.

I'm soon into some gently rolling hills, but there are some flat parts too. The Meseta is not giving up easily. A while later I overtake Dutch Herrman and Joyce, from Utrecht. I haven't seen them for several days, and we walk pleasantly together towards Mazarife. They tell me about running into an older French gentleman in a straw hat who appears to be walking the Camino backwards. They have no common language. The only clue is the Frenchman pointing east and saying something like "my wife". This happens again the next day and the day after. Finally they involve another pilgrim in the conversation who speaks French and Dutch. It turns out that the man is driving his car ahead a certain distance and then walking back along the trail to find his wife, who can't manage walking long distances without support. He then leads her to the car and they repeat the performance, with stops at cafes and albergues within driving distance, as required. It takes all kinds.

When we reach the village of Chozas de Abajo, about an hour from our destination, we divert to a nearby bar for coffee. Herrman buys the drinks while I help Joyce with a blister problem. We expect to reach Mazarife before noon, so we don't rush our break. We briefly consider going further, but the next albergue is 14 kilometres on, so that won't wash.

We check into a nice private albergue, Tio Pepe, at about 12:00. After a shower and some hand laundry, I find Herrman and Joyce on the back patio. I buy a Spanish omelette for my lunch, and a bottle of wine. We share the latter and enjoy some time in the sun. Herrman goes to a local supermercado to buy some groceries. Joyce is taken with the name of the place - M. Jesus. She says to her husband: "It must be a very religious shop". "I don't think so" says Herrman, "they sell booze."

I walk off the wine taking pictures around the village and buying some croissant for tomorrow at a local bakery.

 

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