Staying in the moment

Somehow I thought my posts from the Meseta would be getting shorter… you know, ditto from the day before. But it’s not working out that way. Sorry, they are getting longer!

Today was a fairly easy day from Sahagun to El Burgo Ranero - another flat walk along the endless crop fields, though it was entirely along a dirt track that ran parallel to the main road. But clear skies and warm temps, so no complaints. (At least from me… if Rory had a blog, it may have some very different sentiments.)

A few kilometers into the walk, the Camino split between the regular Camino Francés and an alternate route that takes you to another city (and no services at all on that route). There were a couple of Japanese women looking very confused about which way to go. They pointed on a map to the town they wanted to get to - same one as us. Not knowing a word of Japanese, I found myself trying to explain to them in Spanish and English the directions to the route. They finally understood, more from my gestures I’m sure than from my Spanglish. Fortunately we saw them later in town, and they thanked us again for the directions. (At least I think they were thanking me. It was all in Japanese.)

At this same junction, I met an older woman named Mary, from Rio Rancho, New Mexico, and I helped her with the same directions. (I’m not sure how I became the default Camino guide.) She is walking the Camino, while her husband is back in Georgia doing park maintenance at a national park. She told me that after they raised three kids and a granddaughter, they sold everything and now live out of their camper, going on various adventures all over the place and stopping only when they need to save a bit of money. Very cool! She also has a heart condition - from a virus she contracted 26 years ago that they said would kill her in two to four years - so needs to walk very slowly. Another Wonder Woman of the Camino!

I reached that point of walking along the Meseta when I started to wonder, why the hell am I still walking? I’m tired of listening to my music; I’ve burned through most of the podcasts that I downloaded. I am left alone with my (often shallow) thoughts, which mostly revolve around food, how many kilometers to the day’s destination or whether Cocoa misses me. It is no longer about bragging rights or just trying to finish. I’m not sure what is driving me, but I am still compelled to keep going. I force myself to sit with my thoughts.

One of my thoughts today is how grateful I am to my “work family,” without whose support I would not be able to make this journey. So a big huge thank you to Amy, Kelly, Cheryl, Lucy, Aaron, and Missy! Each of you has had to pick up some little piece of what I would be doing, and I am grateful to each of you!

We passed yet another little roadside chapel to the Virgin Mary. It seems like we pass at least one per day. At each of these chapels, there is someone to greet you and give you a stamp. Such devotion to something bigger. I am somewhat envious of the depth of their faith.

We made it to Bercianos del real Camino for lunch. A rather soulless, industrial little village, with few trees or shade. We found one of only two open cafes. A tiny little place that had little signage and no charm whatsoever. But it was open and did have a little patio with tables and chairs and thankfully a bit of shade, though a lot of flies. We ordered a bocadillo (sandwich) - I can’t express how tired I am of ham and cheese sandwiches, and this one was particularly bad because of the somewhat stale, crusty baguette that tore up the roof of my mouth. And it was totally flavorless so we resorted to putting sour cream and onion Pringles in the sandwich to give it a bit of crunchy flavor. Don’t judge.

After lunch, we continued to walk along the dirt path that ran parallel to the road. It was a fairly warm afternoon, 66° and partly cloudy skies but it felt warmer probably because I was dressed in long pants and a long sleeve shirt to protect myself from the sun and mosquitoes. I was grateful for the very gentle breeze, even though it carried with it the stench of steer manure (compost?) from the freshly tilled fields on the left of the path. I realized how miserable this must be in the hot sun and searing temperatures of mid-summer.

Between the fields and the path is a little stream, dry in parts and with standing water in other parts. Today I could see the little mosquitoes or gnats, flying all over the place and getting in my face. I had to keep waving my poles to keep them away from me. I wonder if I drank enough beer yesterday. I’ll make up for it later.

On these long stretches of the Meseta, where we have many kilometers between towns, I tend to keep looking out on the horizon for the signs of the next town. Sometimes I can see it on the horizon, far in the distance, and think it is very close. But after an hour of walking, I realize sadly that it is still several kilometers away. Today I tried to pay more attention to the things that were immediately around me. I spotted a little green lizard just off the path. I set down my poles gently and slowly pulled out my camera. I crept up as close as I could. He stayed very still, but he also didn’t run away. (I think he was posing for me, hoping that he would make it onto the blog… You got it, little buddy!) Then he scrambled into his little hole in the berm. I continued to watch for a while, and eventually he stuck his head out again for one more shot. I think my little lizard friend was there to teach me a valuable lesson about paying attention to the here and now. Not being focused on the destination. Not always striving for what’s ahead. I have a harder time with being in the moment and seeing what is right in front of me.

Rory observed that the other pilgrims are not as chatty on the Meseta. Maybe they are each lost in their own thoughts. Many have earbuds in, probably listening to music or podcasts. Some are actually chatting on the phone. Others may be just focused on getting through the heat or wind or fatigue. Yet there is always at least an acknowledgment of fellow pilgrims as we pass each other, with a nod or a “Buen Camino.”

We got to El Burgo Ranero around 2pm, showered, relaxed and strolled around this small town. It’s another cute Camino town - if a little depressed (lots of for sale signs). There is, however, a cool wetlands on the edge of town and exercise equipment set up looking out over it, I guess free for anyone to use. If I hadn’t walked 12 miles, I might consider it.

Mark sent me a photo of my first rose bloom back home, so I had to include it in today’s photos. (He knows I am missing my roses too.)