Hornillos del Camino

Today has felt like a significant day and not just because I had no blister pain for the first time in a week though that was wonderful! We were back on the road at 6.40 this morning, setting out from Burgos with the moon still visible in the sky, in the company of Rachel, our English friend who we’ve shared a room with for the last few days. She walks even faster than Fiona and is described by some of the other pilgrims as a Amazon. Before long she strode on ahead of us, and was on her way to a destination some kilometres beyond ours. We expect to see her next in Leon.
This morning marked the beginning the Meseta, the section of the Camino many people avoid. It is a high, flat plain with little shade which is often very hot and some say deeply monotonous, though others claim it as their favourite part of the journey.
Early on we faced the usual issues leaving a city - crossing motorways and searching for the Camino’s yellow arrows.
11 km on we stopped for breakfast at the sad little town of Tardajos, which last night Rachel christened ‘Tired Horse’ in response to my attempts to pronounce it authentically. It had the usual storks on the church roof (one nest for each of the four corners of the bell tower) and some lovely roses in an otherwise down-at-heel town.
A few kilometres along the road we stopped at what my guidebook described as ‘the unremarkable Ermita de la Virgen’. I found it a really special place of great serenity. It was very simple and of no architectural merit but I sat in a pew and felt deeply moved. I think this was my first spiritual experience of the Camino. Afterwards I turned my attention to the 70 year old woman at the back of the church called Teresa who was issuing stamps to pilgrims. I think she was a nun but can’t be sure. She only spoke Spanish but seemed to have an instinct for those most in need and spoke to them at length, whether they shared her language or not. She touched each person and wished them a happy arrival in Santiago, told us to be kind to each other, to embrace the dispossessed and to keep the Camino in our hearts when we went home. She took her time but people queued to receive her blessing. She gave us all a medal and stamped our Camino passports. I think for many of us, this was an important encounter.
We walked on, marvelling at the big skies (which threatened rain) and the wild flower verges which proliferated in poppies.
We did encounter our first Camino rain (we have had rain before but it has always fallen after our arrival), I got a chance to put my yellow poncho to use but we were almost at Hornillos before it began so we have hardly been tested yet for rain resilience.
At tonight’s communal dinner I spoke to Gregory, a 36 year from Poland who is walking with a prosthetic leg. He spent two weeks in hospital in Estella with an infection and is clearly in some pain. He told me he had suffered badly from Covid and spent a month in hospital in a coma. When he recovered consciousness he had lost the sight in one eye and now has failing sight in the other eye. Doing the Camino was his dream and he is determined to reach Santiago even though his progress is slow. He was religiously inspired and asked our names so he could pray for us. He said he added the names every day of those he spoke to and asked them to reciprocate. It was a very Camino encounter and encapsulated the special nature of this experience.Okumaya devam et