Read Sunrises to Santiago: Searching for Purpose on the Camino de Santiago Online
Authors: Gabriel Schirm
I
casually tell the front desk clerk that we would like to do some
laundry. She politely explains to us what I already know. It is a
local holiday so this might not be possible, but she will check.
“
A
wonderful holiday! Only here in Burgos!” she explains with a
chipper smile. “You are visiting at the perfect time!”
I
want to reach into my bag, grab a bed bug, and drop it on her head.
She picks up the phone to check on laundry and her look of
disappointment says it all. We are screwed. She politely tells me
that the company they hire to do guest laundry is on holiday today as
well. Sure enough, we
are having a
Spain Day
.
Upstairs,
we enter our room. A luxurious space greets us with modern
decorations, a large glorious bed, a flat screen television, and our
first break. There is a tub! Time for plan B. I immediately strip
down to nothing and throw everything into the tub, which I fill with
scorching hot water. I let it soak for two hours all the while
keeping the water as hot as possible. I carefully stir the pot of
infested clothes with a hanger from the closet. To finish the
killing, I use the hairdryer to dry every inch of every article by
hand. I have high hopes that this will work.
There
are times in life when you find yourself thinking,
How
in the hell did I get to this point in my life?
Drying everything you own with a hairdryer while buck-naked in a
fancy hotel is one of those times. I can
’
t
help but laugh at the ridiculous hilarity of the situation. After I
am finally finished with my attempted extermination, Amy and I decide
to go check out Burgos. I wave politely to the front desk lady on the
way out the door, concealing my criminal secret.
Burgos
is one of the bigger cities along the Camino de Santiago and boasts a
population of about 175,000 people.
4
The city is filled with amazing architecture, monuments, and more
importantly, some amazing
pinxos
.
The scene in Burgos is festive, as most families are out enjoying the
day. They are leisurely strolling through the streets and ad
miring
the impressive Gothic architecture of the Burgos cathedral. A UNESCO
world heritage site, construction on the cathedral began in 1221, and
the sheer size of the beautiful building causes everyone to stop and
stare.
5
Rain begins to fall as we drink in the view. We decide we have walked
enough and take cover in a tiny restaurant next to the giant
cathedral
.
Pinxos
are
similar
to the famous
tapas
of southern Spain but smaller and fancier. It is like the difference
between a burger and a gourmet burger. Chefs carefully craft small
bite size snacks using impressive flavor combinations that force you
to eat slowly to savor the flavor.
Most creations look like a small work of art.
I
have learned they are quite proud of
pinxos
here in the north, and if you call them tapas, expect a scolding.
We
sip a glass of wine and order several rounds of these delicious
morsels as rain falls outside of the open door next to our table. The
fresh musty smell of warm summer rain adds a welcome perfume to our
dining experience.
“
So
I guess we need to recalculate,” I tell Amy as she is scarfing down
a particularly delicious bite of fish.
“
I
guess we do,” she replies. “We didn
’
t
make it very far yesterday, and we definitely didn
’
t
plan for bed bugs!”
We
open the guidebook to crunch some numbers to see if it still might be
possible for us to finish in the days we have left. We have
18
days to go, and after some investigation, it
’
s
still possible. Yet with every setback, more challenging. Before
heading back to the hotel, we spot a
farmacia
that
is actually open despite the holiday.
“
Tengo
chinches,” I tell the woman behind the counter inside.
I
have bed bugs.
She
smiles as I am sure I have said something that doesn
’
t
translate very well. “Que tienes?”
What
do you have?
I
ask her, hoping for a solution.
Without
wasting any time, she pulls a small box off the shelf and hands it to
me. She explains that it is a powerful bug repellent especially good
at keeping the bed bugs from eating you. She recommends I spray it in
my pack and on each bed I sleep on along the Way. I thank her for the
advice, and we head out the door with my new chemical weapon in hand.
The
bed back
in
our hotel is incredibly comfortable. It is like lying on a cloud, and
the silence of no snoring roommates quickly sends me
into
a deep sleep. Hopefully my hard work has paid off, and I will not
wake up tomorrow with new bites. Tomorrow we enter the famous
M
eseta
.
Day 1: Trail Marker
Pyrenees Mountains
Arrival Day: St. Jean
Pied-de-Port
Day 4: Descent From
Clouds
Day 9: Sleeping Mats at
Church of St. John the Baptist Grañon
PART
TWO
THE MESETA
Just
try not to take
life
so seriously, peregrino.
Fernanda,
Pilgrim from Spain
Trail
Day 13
You
will not make it
to
Santiago de Compostela.
Bar
Owner
Trail
Day 15
Trail
Day 13
I
wake up in the morning and immediately walk into our swanky bathroom,
strip down, and check myself for new bed bug bites. I am relieved to
find nothing. No new bites last night, so I think I may have shaken
them. The real test will be when I have to sleep in my sleeping bag
again at the next albergue. Surely my bag is where they have taken up
residence. I liberally spray my new bug killer in my pack just to be
sure.
We
head out the door at 5 a.m. to find the streets of Burgos still
filled with drunken people from the local festival last night. Some
young drunk Spaniards yell at us from their second story window,
“Buuuennnn Caminnnno, pererrrrregrinos!” A few others try to
start a deep conversation with us about our purpose for walking. They
are too drunk, and it is too early, so I pretend I don
’
t
speak Spanish, and we make our way through the cobblestone streets.
We
pass the giant cathedral again on our way out of the city center. It
is beautiful at this hour. Like an old wise man, the cathedral seems
to watch us as we walk, peering down at the two Americans making
their way towards Santiago. We are alone now. There are no drunken
partiers in sight. The Moon hangs in the sky just above the tall
cathe
dral
towers and looks as if it was placed there by
a
skilled artist
’
s
hand. Moonbeams highlight the stone gargoyles above our heads.
We
head out of town, eventually stopping for some tortilla española and
some café con leche. Energized by breakfast and back on the trail,
we finally enter the famous
Meseta
! Up to this point, many a
conversation turns to the
Meseta
. Whether it be dreaded or
sublime, all have their opinions and anticipation for what many
consider to be the “mental
”
section of the Camino de Santiago. We are finishing the first leg,
which is considered the “physical
”
section because it tests your body with more difficult terrain. I can
definitely attest to the physical part and am ready for something
less strenuous.
The
Meseta
, which in Spanish translates to the plateau, is a long
section of land in the middle of Spain that is flat and covered with
fields of wheat, barley, and oats.
1
Poppies dot the landscape, but other than that, there is very little
shade, and the heat becomes intense. It is considered the mental
section of the trek because there is no longer much to look at. It
becomes you alone with brown fields, the sun, and your thoughts. A
place that can drive you mad. I look forward to the challenge. We
trudge on, officially entering the
Meseta
and finding the land
to be completely flat as advertised.
It
reminds me of Kansas, but it
’
s
also surprisingly scenic. You can see for miles around, and to find
yourself standing in the middle of a foreign country with a huge blue
sky overhead, in complete solitude, is the stuff of adventure. It
energizes me.
I
am thankful for the less hilly terrain, which will provide my knees
with a much needed break. The constant ups and downs of our first 12
days have really tested my tendons. Sweat drips down my head as each
hour passes, and one wheat field blends into the next. As usual I am
in a lot of pain today and almost everywhere hurts
.
The
heat intensifies the swelling, which does not help. During a break, I
grab our Camino journal and jot down a list of ailments that I am
currently experiencing. “Check out this list! This is ridiculous!”
I laugh, showing my injury list to Amy. She finds it even more
hilarious than I do and can
’
t
seem to stop laughing.
-
right Achilles hurts
-
both knees swollen
-
right shoulder very tender (from leaning on Dolores)
-
left hamstring on fire
-
blister on right hand (from Dolores)
-
bed bug bites on back, shoulders and hand
-
right toe tendon starting to hurt
In
contrast, Amy seems to be improving. “I feel good today!” She
explains. “I don
’
t
even think I will need a nap. My body is getting used to 30-kilometer
days!”
“
Must
be the yoga,” I snap back.
As
we walk through the intense heat, we meet a girl named Fernanda from
Spain. She looks to be in her late 20s and wears a big smile set
below kind dark eyes. She is wearing a big straw hat similar to ours,
which breaks the ice. We speak in Spanish about our hats, the heat,
and—as seems to be common out here—we quickly skip the small
talk, and I ask why she is walking the Camino de Santiago.
“
No
tengo trabajo,
”
she
explains.
I
don
’
t
have a job
.
I feel a pang of jealousy. What freedom she must have! This thought
instantly makes me feel crazy.
She
is walking because it
’
s
cheap, and frankly, why not? It is almost a right of passage for
Spaniards, and now is the perfect time. The economy in Spain is still
struggling, especially for the younger demographic. Almost half of
Spanish youth are unemployed, and Fernanda is one of them.
2
I naively explain that I have not found my passion
yet
and that is part of the reason I am out here. She breaks out into
laughter, which confuses me. I ask her what is so funny.