Tag: camino-de-santiago

Into Castilla y León

Lee Hausman

Buenos dias, everyone! I’m luxuriating at the San Anton Abad hotel and albergue in Villafranca de Montes de Oca after a short 12 kms walk through rolling farmland. I passed through acres and acres of sunflowers today, all waiting to be harvested. Sunflower seeds and oil are major products produced here.

I’ve left La Rioja and I’m now in Castilla y León, the largest autonomous region in Spain. In the coming weeks I’ll be spending a lot of time traveling through three of its nine provinces, including the flat plateau called the Meseta.

In fact, it’s harvest season for many crops here, especially grapes. The vines I’ve walked by recently are bursting with bunches of ripe, dark blue fruit, and the pickers are out there. However, for the first time I’ve seen a large machine doing the harvesting – they must have some interesting mechanics in them to be able to gently suck up the grapes without denuding the vines of their leaves or otherwise damaging them. 

The contrast between typical cities and the countryside is, of course, one of the strong features of the Camino. After a few days walking through farmlands and staying in small villages, it can be something of a jolt to find yourself back in a major city. I’m often glad to be returning to the wide open farm fields and wooded glades.

So, since my last post, I’ve stayed in Navarrete, Najera, Santo Domingo de la Calzada, and Belorado. Much of the path early on was over hard, rocky farm roads which are tough on the feet. Pilgrims very quickly become adept at seeking to walk on the flatest, least rocky, and shadiest part of the path. Some days have been longer and harder walks, others have been shorter and easier, all as I planned.

Pilgrim statue leaving Logroño
Giant wine bottle in Rioja
Vegetable melange starter
Sunrise leaving Navarrete
Wide open spaces
Camino stained glass in Gañon


One thing I have noticed is that many restaurants here play very good music for my dining pleasure. By “very good” I mean pleasant blues, jazz, or soft rock, at a volume you can talk over. Very civilized.

Evenings can be boring, so I watch a little TV if my room is so equipped. The offerings are often the same frm place to place, so I can feel “at home” watching Midsommer Murder and Chicago Fire reruns (in English) as I progress along. 

One of the lodging traditions here is that the host will carry your bag, or try to, up to your room. I often deline the offer, given the age or size of the host. It’s a nice gesture, nonetheless, and rarely seen elsewhere.

Tomorrow I’m off to Atapuerca, where prehistoric caves indicate human activity 1.4 million years ago! Sadly, the caves are a little bit far afield for me to have a look, but the village has an interesting little museum I’ll visit.

I have heard from some of the folks I met earlier in the Camino and they’ve all zoomed ahead of me. I don’t expect to see them again, but you never know when Camino Magic will happen.

Thanks for coming along on my trek and for all your encouraging comments. Cheers!

Into La Rioja Wine Country

Lee Hausman

Today, I’m cooling my Hokas in Logroño, capital of the La Rioja wine-growing region. There are plenty of other pilgrims here, although those who stopped in Viana last night, as I did, often carry on further along The Way.

Since my last post, from Zubiri, I’ve passed along to Pamplona, then on to Puente La Reina, Estella, Los Arcos, and Viana. These are all hikes in the neighborhood of 22 kms, or 5-6 hours. I’d forgotten how much of my trail time would be spent going up tough climbs or picking my way down steep descents. These early weeks on the Camino never fail to put the lie to my supposedly successful summer conditioning efforts! But it’s knocking me into shape.

Pamplona’s famous bull statue
Casting a long shadow
Sunrise outside Los Arcos
One way to do it
First Rioja Camino marker
Logroño’s cathedral

I’ve met some great people out here, par for the course on the Camino. Andreas, from Munster, Germany, who I met early on, has moved far ahead of me now but sends back the occasional encouraging text. Peter from Brighton is about a day ahead of me, as I presume are Kelly and Annette from Austin, TX. Lei and Allyson, charming retirees from Fort Worth, have been trail and lunch companions several times and are now ahead of me but I’m pretty sure we’ll meet again. True small-town Texas natives, they shared some good stories with me about Country & Western dancing (did you know I taught C&W dancing in D.C. during the 80s?). Buen Camino, cowgirls!

As usual, once I’ve settled into the Camino routine, I’ve begun to think about all the blessings I have in my life. Not the least of which is my lovely French wife, who is currently in Nice, basking poolside with friends. Every day, as I hike through the gorgeous Spanish countryside, I marvel at how wonderful this life is, and how lucky I am.

It has been hot, however, and the lodgings I’ve had that featured air conditioning were extremely welcome. How hot? 95-100 degrees F. Usually, the heat doesn’t come on until midday or later, so getting out early helps. I anticipated the heat and came equipped with a “Koolgator”, a neckerchief filled with beads that, after soaking, retain water and provide evaporative cooling for hours. I also brought an aluminized sun umbrella that clips to my backpack strap and provides hands-free personal shade in the wide open spaces.

Pretty bowers on the trail
Creative clothesline work
Spanish olives galore
Roasted sun flowers, anyone?

Tomorrow I’ll be able to sleep in a bit in order to have a later start for my short 13 km hike to Navarrete. It’s supposed to rain overnight but end around 6:00 am. Which means I cooler temps (yay!), no rain on me directly (yay!), higher humidity (boo!), and a possibly muddy trail (boo!). Whatever, still I progress along the Camino.

And I thank you for coming along and for your kind comments. Cheers!

Hello from Zubiri

Lee Hausman

I’m writing from Zubiri, my fourth stop. All systems have been Go: the weather has been absolutely beauiful, my legs and feet are doing well, and I’ve met some interesting pilgrims to walk with.

On my way to Valcarlos
In Valcarlos
Leaving Roncesvalles
Walking to Zubiri
Things found only in Camino town vending machines

My first day on the Valcarlos route was fairly easy but there isn’t much to the village. From there to Roncesvalles on my second day nearly killed me! It was really quite hard going uphill but, luckily, other pilgrims walking with me were were supportive. Here’s a shout-out to you, Andreas (DE), Angelo (IT), and Peter (UK).

Roncesvalles provided a nice respite, with good cold beer and AC where I stayed. The next day I clocked a short 12 Kms to Bizcarret-Guerendiain and today I made the even shorter trek to Zubiri. The downhill last two Kms into town are really hard on the knees.

I have seen very few others on the trail, which is nice at times but also disconcerting for the health of the Camino. September is supposed to be busy, so maybe traffic will pick up on the coming weeks. At which time I’ll probably complain about it. Nonetheless, there are plenty of folks here in Zubiri.

Tomorrow I head off on my first long trek, 21 Kms to Pamplona, about 6.5 hours of walking. I’ll have a rest day there and will probably need it. I’ll keep you posted.

So thanks for coming along. Cheers.

Ready to Set Off

Lee Hausman

I’m writing from my hostel room in Saint Jean Pied-de-Port, on the eve of my trek. It’s nice to be back in this tourist town and to mingle with the other pilgrims from all over the world.

I’m glad I was just a spectator to this downpour this morning

After breakfast I stood, coffee cup in hand, outside my hostel and wished those pilgrims setting off a buen camino as they trooped by. Some of them were carrying everything but the kitchen sink, even one guy I swear had a portable typewriter lashed to his pack. There’s a rule about not carrying more than 20 percent of your body weight and I’m sure these folks were over that. Well, they’ll likely be finding the local post or DHL office soon, to ship stuff they haven’t abandoned home. That’s what I did back in 2019.

I do love good writing and, as much as I try to do that here, I often find others who have put the Camino experience into words so much more eloquently than I. With that in mind, I’d like to direct you to this, from the Wall Street Journal of all places:

https://www.wsj.com/lifestyle/travel/camino-de-santiago-pilgrimage-walk-6f611461?st=gDxJch&reflink=article_email_share

So tomorrow I set off, and instead of the Napoleon route over the Pyrenees I’ll be taking the lower Valcarlos route though the surrounding valleys. This is the only route open in the Winter and is said to be “easier but not easy” compared to going over the top. Having done the top route three times, I chose the lower one this time for completeness sake; something new.

My morning station, where I wish departing pilgrims a good walk

Saint Jean PdP remains a touristy place and there are now three hiking outfitter stores on the main drag, where there had been only one – a reflection of the large increase in the number of pilgrims in recent years.

Espelette pepper beer! Happy days!

Tonight I will pack my backpack and review my plans and tomorrow I’ll head off after breakfast. Pray for dry weather, please, and good company. I already have that in you; thanks for coming along.

Now THAT Is A Pilgrimage

Lee Hausman

In an earlier post I inaccurately said that the Via Francigena pilgrimage starts in Canterbury. That was wrong; it actually starts in London. I was reminded of this one day when I was halfway to Chartham on a training walk, all decked out in my Camino gear, and I encountered a dozen people hiking to Canterbury, from London. They were a group of young Via Francigena Goodwill Ambassadors, mostly Italians, and they were delighted to meet a fellow pilgrim (even if I was heading in the opposite direction). We had a nice trailside chat and several of them had been on Caminos in Spain. Based on the videos two of them were taking, I’m pretty sure I now appear in someone’s Italian blog.

Here’s the brochure they gave me. You can see that this is a very long hike! In fact, it’s about 2,000 miles through four countries and takes three or four months. That’s a commitment. Someone else I talked to a few years ago who walked it said that it doesn’t really have the level of supportive infrastructure found on the Caminos in Spain and is quite difficult. Let’s not forget we’re talking about crossing The Alps, too. The ambassadors were very nice but I’m not inclined to do this one. How about you?

However, meeting them put my measly upcoming Camino into perspective. Now I’m raring to go.

I’m in Paris as I write this and I’ll be heading south in two days. I’m passing the time between coffee, croissants, and cafes by engaging in the time-honored, pre-hike practices: tweaking my gear and generally overthinking all my plans. Yes, everything fits in my pack. Yes, I have all the required documents. Yes, I’ll probably be able to carry it all even if I do include that Swiss Army knife. And, as I’ve reminded myself several times, they probably, almost certainly, sell whatever else I might need, in Spain. Sound familiar?

I’m lucky that the wildfires in southwestern France that temporary shut down the trains out of Paris have been tamed. And, at the risk of jinxing myself, the weather forecast for my first hiking day is very pleasant – sunny and dry. One can only hope. I look forward to my ride to Saint Jean Pied-de-Port because the train is full of pilgrims and there’s a festive and excited vibe. I confess I’m getting a little of that right now.

Thanks for coming along and carry on.

Coda: Camino Finito

Lee Hausman

I’m writing this final installment of my 2024 Camino posts from Paris, after getting over my parting gift from Santiago: a bout of food poisoning. Ooh la la.

Rain and fog along The Way

The end of this Camino was much like its beginning: foggy, rainy, and cold, with low visibility, so the line of pilgrims along the way sported ponchos and other rain gear. However, when we reached Mount Gozo and the outskirts of Santiago were in sight, no one cared about the weather. We made it!

But, I’m getting a little ahead of myself. My last post left off in Ponferrada, where I stayed in a wonderful albergue with great services. Subsequent days took me to Cacabelos, Trabadelo, Las Herrerias, O Cebreriro (a dreadful climb and weather),

Triacastela, Sarria, Portomarin, Airexe, Melide, Arzua, and O Pedrouzo. My lodgings were generally good, but sometimes not that great.

After O Cebreriro, it’s not quite all downhill but it seems that way and once you reach Sarria, where all the tour groups jump in to get the minimum kilometers required for a compostela, momentum and excitement help propel you forward toward the finish.

Each time I met Americans on this hike, and there were many, I carefully brought up the upcoming U.S. elections. I don’t often get to talk to people I don’t already know, from across the U.S., these days so I wanted to do so here and to listen to their views. As it turned out, almost all of them had the same political feelings that I have. I guess going on the Camino may reflect a certain world-view, so sharing those feelings is not that surprising. It was nice, though, to find that Americans from states like Louisiana, Texas, Idaho, and Montana are nicer, more thoughtful, and more progressive than their media stereotypes often suggest.

Camino-inspired wine in Cacabelos
Custom group Camino patches
Rainy morning is Las Herrerias
Caldo Gallego – yum!
Canine cafe welcome committee
Cows on the Camino near Airexe
Camino chic: hiking kilt
A cleaning company; not a commentary on the European economy
Yours truly, at the Santiago Cathedral

It continued to rain throughout the weekend after my arrival in Santiago. My New French Wife, Marti, flew in and joined me a few hours after I arrived. We enjoyed our reunion and in the following days dashed around through the rain to various good restaurants for some excellent Galician meals. We went to the official Pilgrim office and I collected my Compostela certificate, a process that is all automated now, somewhat impersonal, and without the hand-lettering of your name and details. It looks like this:

The rain continued to come down throughout our stay in Santiago and it really was pretty miserable at times. What I would have given for some sunshine! Our flight back to Paris went smoothly and now I’m sorting through my gear and decompressing.

As reported earlier, my poor feet took a beating and I’ll probably lose a toenail, but they’re slowly recovering. I’m happy to have survived the physical and mental challenges once again, and I’m enjoying the post-Camino downtime. As before, it’s a bit of a shock shifting gears from speaking Spanish to speaking French.

Looking back over the last seven weeks, I’m a little sorry that the Camino seems a bit too touristy now. At times it seemed that there were just too many pilgrims, and many who saw it as a lark, in my opinion, so some of the specialness of it has gone. Maybe that’s a symptom of a post-pandemic, pent-up demand resulting in generally high tourism levels everywhere, or maybe it’s just the consequence of walking the Camino for a third time. At the moment, I don’t even want to think about doing it again, but I know that in six months or so the rose-color hindsight will take effect and I’ll start imagining my return. We’ll see.

Once again, thanks for coming along on my journey and for your encouragement. Cheers.