Behind the Albergue Door: Inspiration Agony Adventure on the Camino de Santiago Read Free Page A

uncertain pilgrims for whom finally reaching Roncesvalles was like discovering a verdant oasis in a barren desert. An oasis of stone run by German retirees with beds covered in plastic, but an oasis nonetheless.
    From there to Pamplona was a refreshing mix of idyllic pastures, sparse woods, recently tilled fields and one messy magnesite mine all leading to one of the most famous cities on the Camino. Pamplona’s beauty, history and penchant for pinxtos and beer all preceded it by word of mouth and guidebook description alike. Then there were more fallow fields slowly climbing through descending fog to the wildly panoramic viewpoint at Alto de Perdón. The slowly spinning wind turbines and expansive views delight the senses while the metal cut -outs of pilgrims desperately bucking the prevailing winds speak to the idiotic chuckler in all of us.
    Ancient Roman roads then lead us over rolling hills, across medieval stone bridges, through thigh-high stands of scrub brush and past stacks of recently harvested bales which make a great place to stop for lunch, especially if you yearn to spend the next two days picking straw out of your socks, backpack and, inexplicably, underwear. Around a week into the hike we see our first real change in the tone of the Camino. Coming out of Logroño pilgrims pass through a wild and partially manicured park before climbing through the first of many bountiful fields of grapevines and their rapidly ripening cargo. Unfortunately, this is also where you will get your first taste of, as the John Brierley guidebook describes them, the “soulless sendas”. These are purpose-built pathways that run immediately adjacent to major roads and highways, presumably to simplify the route, remove any needless meandering and guarantee that if you hadn’t started struggling with bouts of boredom yet, well, there was certainly going to be no denying it now. And don’t bother passing the time with interesting conversation about things like quick-drying socks and mysteriously disappearing leg hair, because all you’ll hear are the sounds of passing traffic, and maybe that clicking noise in your right knee. Your iPod awaits your imminent attention.
    This soon passes, however, as you head back to wooded hills and wide logging roads dramatically hemmed in by thick stands of pines (for the time being, at least), which slowly emerge into scenic pastures where you will suddenly face a number of route choices for the first time, but don’t let it stress you, since they all seem to culminate in huge herds of sheep and their typically furtive shepherds.
    After that is Burgos which, being approximately one-third of the way to Santiago, is a popular choice as a first (or next) rest day due to its size, wide choice of accommodation and the outstanding churro stand located just a stone’s throw from its famous cathedral. It is also a great place to mentally prepare for the next stage, the dreaded Meseta. Known in pilgrimage circles by any number of derogatory terms - Land of Eternal Flatness, Spirit Killer, The Hill-Less Wonder, Heat and Dirt Incorporated, Perfect Place to See How Far You Can Shoot an Olive With a Slingshot – this roughly one week stretch of featureless farmland and towns that become visible hours before you actually arrive has a well-earned reputation both for destroying morale and for dust that makes your clothes appear as dull and lifeless as pre-Pert Plus hair. This is a place where single lonely trees providing the only shade for hours in either direction make such obvious lunch stops that queues form around them. A place where you’ll suffer kilometre after kilometre of bladder pain waiting for even a shred of cover to urinate in peace. A place where the highest point for miles around, and by far the most attractive target for lightning, is the top of your head. A harsh, unforgiving place, much like the steppes of Mongolia, or Wal-Mart after midnight.
    Madeline’s Take
    We met Madeline in the early