Leon is a unique place for all of you living at home in Wellington New Zealand.

If you go out into your garden and start digging a hole, and go in a straight line through the centre of the earth, you will emerge in Leon. We will wait for you only until after breakfast tomorrow.

On planet Earth, in a straight line, we can’t get further away from you. You do seem so very far away.

We met up with 6 of our camino comrades last night and had dinner in an outdoor restaurant in Plaza San Isadora . It was warm and sunny, and Friday night and a good time was had by all. Most of them are leaving Leon today and we won’t see them again until we catch up in Sarria, in eight days time.

This region and the adjacent Galicia is known for its sea food and I had one of its traditional dishes, pulpo de la Gallega. Octopus with boiled potatoes, paprika and olive oil. The arms of the octopus are sliced across to form rings with the suckers intact and it is just boiled. The potatoes are also cut into thin slices. It didn’t have a strong taste and was soft and tender although apparently it can be chewy and rubbery. It does not taste like squid, more like lobster.

Today we are regular tourists in a city. Barbara says when you are on the Camino you belong, with all the other peregrinos. In a city you are just a tourist, ie a visitor. Leon has far too much history, art and architecture to try and comprehend in a day so we had a superficial look at the cathedral, the parador hotel and the Colegiata San Isadoro.

Our hotel is part of the Colegiata San Isadoro which besides the luxury hotel has a basilica, cloister, museum, monastery, treasury and most importantly the Royal Pantheon. This is the former vestibule of the church and has been turned into a Royal Burial Vault: here lie 33 members of the Leonese Court. 11 kings, 12 queens, 10 princes and 9 counts. The very special and unique feature is the mural paintings on the six vaults that led it to be renamed “The Sistine Chapel of Romanesque Art”.

The Parador hotel is located in a masterpiece of exuberant Renaissance architecture, the San Marcos monastery. The paradors are state owned luxury hotels usually located in heritage buildings. This one excells with a stunning cloister, church, museum and beautiful gardens. Some of our friends from last night stayed here. We had the option of paying for an upgrade to here but decided we would be a little out of place. Not a little, a lot.

The Catedral, begun in 1205, is a fine example of gothic architecture. It was completed in only 50 years so has a very consistent style. Unlike Burgos which is a collection of styles added over centuries. For the most part it copies at two thirds scale Rheims Cathedral in France. The stained glass windows are why Leon is called the “Cathedral without walls”. Leon has more glass and less stone than any other cathedral in Spain. There are 125 stained glass windows set high in the walls giving a stunning lightness of touch. The artists and artisans consciously strove to glorify god, not in timber or stone, but in coloured glass.

There was not quite enough stone and major collapses occurred in the 17th and 19th centuries. Fortunately dedicated and innovative masons and architects were able to prevent total collapse and restore the cathedral.

When we arrived at the cathedral this morning the whole huge square in front was set up as a farmers’ market. A large number of Leonites (Leonese ?) were out buying their fruit and vegies. It gave something of the feel of what it may have been like in medieval times.

We have also spent some time just lying on the bed in the hotel room. It is supposed to be a rest day after all. I think we are a bit more tired than we like to admit. Barbara developed a blister on her heal three days ago. This annoyed her as it came with no warning. No soreness, no hot spot. The last two days on the meseta she wore her Keens sandals and again today in Leon. The blister is healing well, fingers (and toes) crossed. The footwear of choice on the Camino is soft sandals and thick socks. That is until it rains.

Ipod theme tune for today: Far away by Astrud Gilberto

Far away you seem so far away
When it was only yesterday
That you were oh so close to me
.. . . . . .
I only know you’re so far away
You’re long ago, so far away
Far away, so far away.

Day 9 on the meseta

Not a very interesting day today but we enjoyed ourselves none the less. From Mansilla de las Mulas the path was straight out of town and was adjacent a busy road. A constant flow of traffic. Most of the time the path was separate from the road but occasionally we had to walk on the shoulder.

Early on we saw some unusual geological formations off to our right. Large mounds of earth that had been pushed up from the plateau. At our coffee stop we enquired and found out they are colinas – hills. I vaguely remember hills from the distant past. I may have cycled some at home. Apparently we will cross a few more today, and in the coming days, and they will get bigger and be called montanas , mountains.

It is actually a relief to get off the plateau and go over some undulating ground. The legs seem to work better when there is some variation going up and downhill. The unchanging regular stride on flat ground is just so tiring. I may regret saying this in a few days.

The approach to Leon is like any city. Winding in through the detritus of electricity pylons and sub stations, motorway flyovers, petrol stations, wreckers yards, used car yards, hectares of boring warehouses, truck stops. It seems to go on forever. No more wild flowers, even they don’t like being here. Maybe just a few thistles and lupins. An ever increasing drone of noise. Vehicles, machinery, sirens, horns and hammering. The meseta was so beautiful and peaceful.

We know people (they will not be named, what happens on the Camino stays on the Camino) who got a cab today. And we saw others getting on the bus. Their souls will be examined and their weakness bared for all to see at the gates of Santiago de Compostela. A few times today we thought it was a good idea.

You wouldn’t believe it, after crossing the last flyover and entering the city proper there was a large hospital alongside the path, and part of it was an asylum. I imagined the yellow arrows leading right in to Admittance. Plenty of room in the albergue from which you can never leave.

Trudging through the residential suburbs we ran out of oomph. Emotionally as much as physically and took refuge in Restaurante Scorpio. Refuelled with a scorpio burger and freshly squeezed orange juice, a sit down with the shoes off for a while, and a trip to the servicos. All the time we were there a woman stood at the only poker machine and fed it coins.

Finding your hotel in a city is always a bewildering experience. Like walking through a maze with continuous distractions of sights, sounds and smells. In towns and cities we have taken to not immediately trying to find the hotel as soon as we hit town. It is amazing how poor your decision making is with low sugar levels. We now find a cafe or park and have something to eat, get our bearings and usually do much better. We are also not supposed to check in before 2pm so if we are early it helps to fill in the time.

We are now in Leon and have our third and final rest day here tomorrow before a thirteen day push to Santiago. Leon is also the third cathedral city we visit (others: Pamplona and Burgos), the fourth will be Santiago.

Leon was a Roman military garrison and base for its VIIth Legion, hence the name – Leon from Legion.

Because people have slightly different itineraries due to how far they walk each day, we have got out of step with some of our friends. However most people are in Leon tonight so we have been in contact by email and will try and meet for dinner tonight.

Ipod theme tune for today: Hotel California by the Eagles

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
“Relax” said the night man,
We are programmed to receive,
You can check out any time you like,
But you can never leave.

Day 8 of the meseta madness – aargh!!!

The directions for today were just as “straightforward”  as yesterday.

After 80 minutes we came to the first highlight of the day. The path actually veered slightly to the left! Veer is probably too strong, it was a long gentle curve. This caused some excitement and we had to consult the guide book and map. Sure enough the path moved slightly from the straight and narrow.

After another hour we encountered the mid morning rush hour. 3 cars passed in quick succession, ie within 5 minutes of each other. They were all taxis. I think some people were cheating today.

Along the path, about every kilometre there was a concrete bench. On every one of them someone had sprayed “podemos”  which translates to “we can”.

We walked on our own. Not a person visible ahead or behind. You feel quite an invasion of privacy when someone slowly catches up to you. At one stage we felt hemmed in, one person 50 metres ahead and another 50 metres behind.

Then three things happened at once. The path turned right. It dipped down. And it passed under a subway. This was way too much information to process for a brain that had long gone into hibernation. The roading engineers should have made this three separate actions, about 15 minutes apart.

Tomorrow afternoon we will reach Leon and I am sure the largest building in the city will be a hospice for those traumatised from walking nine days across the meseta.

And then, from out of nowhere, a cafe had found us, soothing our thirst as we leaned on the bar. They had foot long chocolate eclairs filled with custard instead of cream. Oh yes! This little village had an Elvis bar. Very popular, specially in the evenings.

We did have trains for company today. About 2 kilometres off to our left was the track for the AVE, Alta Velocidad Espanola, the Spanish high speed train. This train moves like a bullet and from coming over the horizon in front to disappearing behind takes about 15 seconds. It makes no sound. About 2 kilometres off to our right was another track that took freight trains. These trains are extremely long, move just slightly faster than us, and rumble. They seem to be used mainly for transporting cars.

Tonight we are in a gorgeous little hotel (only has 4 rooms) in the beautiful little town of Mansilla de las Mulas. The name is derived from Mano en Silla – hand on the saddle. The addition of de las Mulas (of the mules) refers to the town’s earlier prominence as a livestock market. It has a 12th century fortified wall that today protects it from invading modernity. There is a large bus station here and some people get the bus to Leon to avoid a long tedious walk through its outskirts.

Five of us arrived at the hotel together and we were welcomed  by a lovely man who checked us in and intimated that our bags hadn’t arrived and that sometimes they got lost. He ushered us into the cute little hotel bar and made us coffee, poured some white wine and provided a cheese and ham sandwich. After consuming this he took us to our rooms where of course our bags were waiting for us.

For only the second time we were able to look inside a cemetery. Again it was a few kilometres outside a village and surrounded by high walls.

The soil here is very fertile looking and red. It must require a lot of water though as there are irrigation ditches everywhere. We crossed a large brand new concrete canal that has not yet carried any water. Someone had scratched 19 Mayo 2016 into the last batch of concrete.

Ipod theme song for the day: We gotta get out of this place by The Animals.

We gotta get out of this place, if it’s the last thing we ever do
We gotta get out of this place, there’s a better life
Don’t you know, don’t you know

Day 7 of the meseta.

Easy instructions today. Leave Sahagun under the Arco San Benito gate, cross the Puente Romano bridge, and you are on the path. Straight ahead for 17 kilometres. There is a quiet sealed road on your right, approx 1 vehicle per hour. There is a line of poplars on your left, equally spaced every 10 metres, for 17 kilometres. There are seats and tables among the poplars every kilometre. Enjoy.

On no account are you to start counting the poplars, as if you lose where you are up to, then you have to go back to the beginning and start again.

Up until the 80s this path was said to have quite a mystical effect. There was no road, the poplars hadn’t been planted and the path had not been formed. You just walked across fields. With no points of reference or distinguishing geographic features it was regarded as desolate and for those inclined, mystic. Today the path has been bulldozed and the road and trees give it a very strong perspective. These “improvements”  make it impossible to lose perspective and the mystic effect has been lost.

The Puente Romano is a five arch Roman bridge but it was reconstructed in the 11the and 16th centuries so we couldn’t tell what was original. Just beyond the bridge was a woodland named Charlemagne’s Field of Lances. Charlemagne was pursuing the Moors in an effort to make the road safe for pilgrims. The night before the battle some Christians stuck their lances into the ground, straight up, in front of the camp. At dawn those men who were to die in the coming battle found their lances had grown bark and sprouted leafy branches. Astonished and attributing the miracle to God’s divine power, they cut them off at ground level. From the buried roots of the lances was born the woodland. 40,000 Christians died in losing the battle.

I love all the legends on the Camino. Everyday there is something to think about.

We both enjoyed today. The walking was “straightforward” and we had a spring in our step. Last night we happened to meet Victoria and Craig (from Arizona) and ate with them in the very good hotel restaurant. They are very friendly and generous people and Craig has a sardonic sense of humour and our spirits were raised hugely. We ate the basic peregrino menu but they really love their food and had a great time picking specialities from the a la carte menu.

Today was our nineteenth day of walking and I think for the first time we approached a village without seeing a massive church bell tower. At about 5 villages per day that’s 95 villages. When right in the village we did see a very skinny, skeletal tower. Sort of a Twiggy tower. We were not sure if it was a bell tower or a tower at the fire station for hanging up the hoses. There weren’t any storks nests, so probably the latter.

Ipod theme song of the day: Magical Mystery Tour, The Beatles

Roll up, roll up for the magical mystery tour
.. . . . . . .
The magical mystery tour is waiting to take you away
Waiting to take you away

Day 6 on the meseta and maybe the meseta is messing with us.

A funny sort of day. A plodding day. We weren’t tired just a bit lethargic. Everything seemed heavy. It was certainly more humid than the last few days and quite warm. Maybe it was just a reaction to a very enjoyable day yesterday and having passed the halfway mark we were a bit flat – just like the meseta.

We were just as keen to get on the road and had a scrumptious buffet breakfast, the hotel family excelled themselves. One of the few things we miss from home is our oatmeal breakfast with yoghurt, nuts and berries. Oatmeal seems to be unheard of here. Sometimes the breakfast is coffee, yoghurt, juice, bread and jam.

The other thing we miss of course is our family and friends. Actually we don’t. We have decided we will only miss those who make comments on the blog or send emails. The rest of you don’t exist. No candles being lit for you. Just kidding.

Yesterday and today we are in an area that has no suitable stone for construction. Buildings and walls are brick for the more substantial structures and adobe for the others. The better adobe ones are rendered with plaster but many houses, walls and farm buildings are left unrendered. The straw mixed into the mud is clearly visible. The adobe doesn’t weather well and many buildings are very dilapidated.

Some fields today with large arrays of photovoltaic cells generating solar power. Always wind turbines on the horizon as well. Somebody told us that farmers in France and Spain can make more money from power generation than from traditional farming. Perhaps an urban myth? Or a rural myth.

Again we came across “Bodegas”. Not hobbit houses but little caves dug into banks and hillsides and were used for storing food and wine making since Roman times. When each family made their own wine the caves contained wine presses, barrels, bottling vats and clay vessels. Legend says they were dug in wintertime as a pastime for children who could keep warm and occupied scooping out the soft clay. Once exposed to air the clay hardened to a stoney finish, strong enough to support the waste earth that was raised in buckets through the chimney ventilation shaft and dumped out on the roof.

Mid morning we stopped at a humble little village that once had been a stronghold of the Knights Templar, Terradillos de los Templarios. Nothing physically remains of the noble Order but the cafe was named after Jacques de Molay, the last grand master of the Order. We had cafe americano and muffin – in Spanish same spelling but pronounced moof fin.

There is an Irish Pub just along the road and they have Guinness O’clock. I wonder if they do bangers and mash or guiness pie?

Ipod theme tune for today: The Rolling Stones

No you can’t always get what you want
aaahhwaw
But if you try sometime, you just might find
You get what you need