Monday 8 December 2014

Itero del Castillo to Carrion de Los Condes

. . . last night I considered a rest day . . . not through injury or tiredness, just to slow down and write . . . the journey, as last time I had the same idea, woke me up before 5, alert, rested . . . want to write? write now, later we're walking . . .

. . . I wrote, trying to convey an experience beyond words . . . I did my best, knowing that I am processing it through my reality tunnel and each reader will process it through their own unique reality tunnels . . . what else can we do?

. . . breakfast and out into the dawn, along the river, over the bridge to the other Itero . . . quick as the crow flies, but I can't do that . . . a perfect winter morning . . . a light frost, sun coming up, clear skies with enough cloud to make it interesting . . . the road is straight and easy . . . perfect for the inner journey . . . join the Castille Canal, Francisco ahead . . . he stayed at the other Itero, the only pilgrim in his albergue too . . . gives me the essential info for today . . . Carrion, 21 km past Fromista, has an open albergue . . .

I'm in Fromista, cafe con leche, tortilla, bread, a slice of local cheese, a glass of water . . . the sun is shining, it is midday and I reckon I will reach Carrion before 4. . .

. . . which was spot on . . . after four hours . . . with a brief stop for a carahillo . . . half-way, a longer stop later . . . musing about the events of yesterday . . .
. . . Reiner, serious, cerebral spirituality, set view . . . his pack was heavy . . . suffering for Jesus . . . Juanma light, smiley . . . the road metaphor . . . the middle avoiding the ankle stressing camber, also the place to get knocked over . . . politically the place parties like to camp, to garner maximum middle of the road votes . . . in Buddhism the middle way . . . brought up in luxury, Buddha saw suffering, embraced ascetism, half starved himself, chose simplicity, found enlightenment . . . Matthieu Ricard, contemporary Buddha for me, with a playful light touch speaks about moderation . . . chocolate cake, the first taste delicious, next slice good, third one not so good, tenth and you're feeling sick . . . a sit down 6km from Carrion, plenty of time, legs need a rest, energy needs a boost . . . find a sunny spot sheltered from the wind, back against the church wall . . . honey on the biscuits from breakfast . . . a cafe, go in . . . on the counter, chocolate muffins . . . chocolate cake, chocolate pieces, liquid chocolate centre . . .

It has been sun most of the way . . . now a rainbow comes and goes . . . a few spots of rain coming into Carrion . . . to the Albergue Espiritu Santo . . . a nun . . . no habit, but clearly a nun . . . shows me the most beautiful dormitory . . . Francisco arrives two hours later, a Spanish couple and that looks like it . . .

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