Ruins of San Felices Apse, 10th C.

8:30 A.M. Having coffee in a bar in Belorado square

with Andre, a Frenchman, and a wiry little Spanish friend of his

while I wait for the bank to open so I can exchange a travelers

check. We are talking about the healing aspects of el camino and

Andre shows me a snapshot of a group of about eight pilgrims who have

all suffered losses of those close to them. Andre tells me his own

story about how he broke up with his girlfriend and lost his job and

how el camino has helped him to put his life back together. This is

something like his seventh pilgrimage - the second this year. I learned

later after speaking with Evelyne, an Italian living in France who is

writing an article for a magazine and interviewing people as she does

the pilgrimage herself, that all may not be what it seems with Andre.

Rather than a healing experience, the pilgrimage may have become an

artificial crutch for him - a substitute for life since he really

can't function in the real world. We went on to discuss one of his

favorite and controversial refugios, the Aroyo de San Bol, which is

run by a character called Louis. Controversial in the sense that

some, like Andre, find it enriching and admire Louis, while others

find him suspicious and suggest the use of drugs and a cult-like

atmosphere. Louis is a charismatic individual who dresses in military

fatigues and a beret. He is reputed to be a former Israeli fighter

pilot and monk and runs a refugio between Burgos and Castrojeriz

which we will visit soon.

I assured Andre that I would visit Louis, and after parting, I

visited the bank, bought some food, and started on my way. The

weather has cleared up, and after 12.5 kilometers I stopped for lunch

at Villafranca Montes de Oca where there is a tent city for pilgrims.

Tent City at Villafranca Montes de Oca.

I spoke to the proprietor for a while and learned that it was due to

open in a few days. It seemed quite comfortable in a military

fashion, and I was glad that I had no intention of stopping there.

Villafranca is an ancient settlement which boasts a pilgrim's

hospital as early as the 9th century. I climbed a steep hill and

found a spot overlooking the Church of Santiago to sit and have

lunch. According to reports, this area was always one of the most

difficult parts of the pilgrimage due to its steepness and harsh

climate, not to mention the bloodthirsty bandits who robbed and

murdered pilgrims. Although the road is very steep, the weather this

year is unseasonably cool, and the bandits seem to be under control.

SanJuan de Ortega.

At 5:30 after walking 25.5 kilometers, I reach San Juan de Ortega

looking forward to the legendary garlic soup which is served to all

pilgrims. After registering with the grumpy fellow who stamped my

credentials, I proceeded upstairs to the huge dorm area. I saw at

least four very large rooms and two bath rooms. After staking out my

bunk and washing up I went to the monastery church where the priest

offered a short ceremony followed by an excruciating long explanation

of the famous capital in the church. It was too long for me because I

was chilly and shivering the entire time and couldn't understand a

word. When he started, he asked for an interpreter from Spanish to

French, but I was apparently in the minority as an English speaker,

and therefore, left out of the loop. After what seemed forever, we

finished and went next door to the large monastery building which was

attached to the church and sat down to garlic soup. I asked for the

recipe which is as follows:

Day old bread

olive oil

garlic (chopped)

beef stock

2 eggs (stirred in)

Anna & Carlton at rest.

Awoke at 7:00 A.M. and had coffee with the priest in the kitchen of

the monastery, which is another tradition of San Juan de Ortega. We

said little since we did not have a language in common, and I thanked

him and went outside in the early morning brisk air. I chatted with a

man from Holland who was doing the pilgrimage on bikes with his wife.

He was counselor, of course, and we regretted not having the time to

sit and talk more and get to know each other. I started off with a

group of five or six pilgrims, some I had seen on and off for several

days. Eventually, we found our own pace and split up. I found it

continually baffling as I walked through town after town, that

nothing was open. No store, no barŠno place where I could have

breakfast. I didn't find an open store until well after noon.

At 5:30 after 23 kilometers, I finally arrived in Burgos. While I was

glad to see a large city for a change, I must admit that walking into

it was very unpleasant. Several kilometers of industrial suburbia

with lots of traffic and pollution. When I finally reached the city

proper I was very tired and very unhappy to learn that the refugio

was all the way on the opposite side of the city - another walk of

about five kilometers. When I finally reached it I was glad to find

that there was a bed available. The refugio was not the best, nor the

worst, I had seen so far. It looked like a summer camp since it was

constructed in a park of several single story cabin-like buildings.