Long shadows leaving Castrojeriz.

The next morning I awoke to liturgical chants and one of the hosts

walking through the dorm and gently but firmly encouraging people to

be up and ready. They served us coffee and cookies and had us on our

way by 8:00 AM as usual. This was one of the most comfortable

refugios located in a building with a garden and courtyard in the old

section of town. Leaving Castrojeriz was even more spectacular than

arriving. The morning was crisp and bright with that unique quality

of Spanish morning sun that seems to illuminate everything from

within and throw mysteriously long shadows. After walking down the

hill that the town is situated on and across a flat plain for a few

kilometers, the road rose steeply to the top of a plateau,

"Mostelares." I walked alone to that point, passed by only one

pilgrim who was muttering and chanting to himself. As I crested the

top of the mountain I encountered a cross and a group of pilgrims

singing the same pilgrim songs with gusto, and led by-- guess who:

Pepe the same guy who led the singing back at the refugio. I must say

that I admired his spirit even if it did seem a bit fanatical.

Castrojeriz in the distance.

I really enjoyed this bit of geographic oddness since it was rare and

a beautiful experience. Looking back, which was always one of my

favorite things to do, was especially rewarding here, from the top of

the plateau. Resting from the very steep climb up to the top of the

plateau, I could see Castrojeriz what seemed to be far in the

distance. This is the type of experience that I never have had

before, neither at home nor anywhere else: to stand at the top of a

mountain looking back and know that as far as the eye can see, I have

walked it. Castrojeriz looked charming perched on its own little hill

in the midst of a great plain. It was easy to see why they built a

castle (now ruined, of course) at the top.

San Nicholas.

After a bit I stopped at Fuente de Piojo, a fountain, and rested.

There was a small park with benches and tables built around the

fountain, and it was here that I first met Bill, an Art Education

teacher from Milwaukee, and Aitor his friend from Navarra with whom

he was traveling. Did I mention that my feet and legs really hurt

from wearing a pair of cheap sandals that I bought in order to let

the serious blisters on both my heals heal? Eventually I came to a

fine little church, the San Nicholas where everyone stopped and

rested while admiring the small chapel. This restored church had very

Interior of San Nicholas.

strong positive energy and was quite a rewarding experience. After a

few more kilometers I stopped in a bar to rest and write. I had two

cafe solos listening to very loud music while a television silently

showed us the news. As I was leaving the bar I ran into Gerhard, a

German farmer, and with whom I walked to Boadilla del Camino, a

pleasant little town where we had lunch at about 3:00. After lunch we

walked very quickly, covering the 5 km to Fromista in one hour. The

walk was hot and followed a man-made canal. After crossing the lock

we entered Fromista which, although rich with history, seemed to have

little beyond the monuments to show for it. The town was flat and

low, and looked as though it had just sprouted a few days before. The

Church of San Martin is a remarkable jewel but so highly and

immaculately restored that it seemed to me to have lost its charm. I

am once again impressed with the absence of any graffiti on these

buildings. Granted they are national treasures, but in the U.S. I'm

sure they would be targets despite their antiquity. The penalty for

defacing them must be no less than hanging. The refugio was crowded

and uninteresting, and after a little sightseeing, dinner of cheese

and bread from the local shop with Gerhard, I resolved to pack it in

and leave at sunrise to get out of Fromista as soon as possible.

Pilgrims leaving San Nicholas.