Day 13 - to Burgos

Again, thanks to those who have sponsored me on the way, either for the day or for 5000 steps. Thanks to everyone who is following my Way and/or keeping me in your prayers.

Yesterday was a good day. After lunch, I booked into my hostel. It was very modern and the rooms had no more than 6 beds. I was placed with two other blokes, a more mature German and Frenchman. As it turns out, that would be our room for the night. The hostel also had 4 men's toilets and 4 women's toilets. This was sensational for 20 or so pilgrims - a definite step up from the horror of Granon. It was also day 4 - this means machine washing almost everything day... every sock, jock and shirt into the machine. I could smell the freshness in anticipation.

While the machine washed away, I wandered around the village. And, it was a real village, as I hope my pictures show. Having seen the entirety of the town and its surrounds, I decided to rest. This was a bit more difficult, because of the very loud occupants talking in the corridor or in their rooms with doors open... apparently slamming the door is not the universal sign for please be quiet as it had no effect.

When I arrived at the hostel, I asked the women in charge if there was Mass in the evening. Being a small village, there was only Mass on Sunday. So, I asked if there was an old woman with keys to the church so that I could say Mass. I assured the hostel-woman that there is always an old woman with keys to the Church, with which she agreed, but she did not know who it was. She assured me she would try to find out - I was not confident.

As it turns out, she was true to her word and I met a little old spanish woman with very very large iron keys at the door to the church at 6pm. My room mates tagged along and very soon discovered that I was a priest. They were overjoyed. They had met at Mass two nights before and were delighted to have an opportunity to celebrate Mass. Clearly, they were on pilgrimage like me. After Mass, which was a mix of English and Spanish, we went for a pre-dinner beverage and then shared a meal with another Frenchman, who was disappointed to have missed Mass. The soup at the dinner was "to die for." I had two very large helpings.

After a reasonably good sleep, I set off on the final 20kms to Burgos. The first few kms were an uphill journey followed, naturally, by a downhill journey on a pilgrim path. After the first town, we ended up on the side of the road, where we would remain for the next ten kms or so.  We stopped in the next village for breakfast - there I had the most exquisite egg / mushroom / carrot fried concoction. It was delicious.  

We did not see another bar/cafe until we entered Burgos, many kms later. By this stage, I was desperate both for a coffee and a visit. The coffee was superb and I had a very small custard tart with it, which I was told was a Portuguese specialty. The way into Burgos was lovely, a very large nature park next to the river. There were people walking or running everywhere and children playing in parks or on the beach next to the river.

I am now here and looking forward to my rest day and to seeing the sights of Burgos, which are many.

Hasta el luego!