September 29th - It has been so long since I wrote, I hhardly know where to begin.  I am now in Sahagun, an interesting red brick city of 70,000or so that was the center of Kights Templar influence for several centuries.  We're out of the stone buildings temporarily and into brick and adobe.  Also, we are on the Meseta 100 plus miles of mostly flat or gently rolling hills of grain and hay fields; flocks of sheep again, and I just had a yummy lunch of roast lamb.  Other people complain about, even dread, the Meseta but I am loving the big sky,  it is a bit like walking in western Kansas or Oklahoma, except no houses except in villages.

My favorite town recently has been Castrojeriz, a city on the base of a mound atop which is a big castle in ruins.  It's here that my friend Nia and her partner, Mau, have opened a hospital del alma."  It is a house right on the Camino, open door, up a few steps, soft, soothing music, beautiful framed photographs of people and places along the Camino with wise captions in three languages, herbal tea, cookies, comfortable chairs, a garden with more of them out back.  I was hoping Mau would be there or come back while I rested and enjoyed looking at everything but he didn't.  

I walked on and went into an outfitting shop in the Plaza Mayor to buy a belt as I had sent my pack ahead and needed something from which to hang my deerskin water bottle pouch.  The older proprietor, no English and very kind provided me oneand also told me how to find an ATM machine - "Abajo,Abajo, Abajo" smiling, and it was.  Down four flights of stairs.  On the way back I stopped at the local farmer's market and bought some green beans to munch on. Green vegetables are not the long suit of Spain I've discovered.  I spied some purple plums and picked up two.  The farmer shuffled over and said, when I asked how much? And said, something like, " no, no, no-for you nothing."  He then put about ten pls in my bag, and beaming, put out his hand to say,  "Buen Camino."  I was so moved I kissed him on the cheek!  Got to stop, eyes tired, more later.  Love, MBR

9-?-13

9-22-13

September 22

(Continued

After the wedding I saw some Cino friends I hadn't seen since Ciruena- a couple from Indiana, she doing a wonderful job walking despite asthma.  We hung out, waiting out the afternoon until the amazing equinox event at sunset.  After the special peregrine mass at 6,  with two bus loads of Spanish people attending as well as the 70 or so peregrinos we saw the bright rays of the setting sun shine through a small, carefully placed high west window, directly on the belly of Mary in the carved Annunciation scene.

She is standing in a  pose that suggests an reaction of "me? Not me!"  This architectural feat was rediscovered in 1974, but in earlier periods, Queens and other women would come from afar believing that witnessing this event would help them get pregnant.  My best fall equinox, for sure.

The next morning, having decided to ride the bus the 19 km into Burgos, I walked the 3 km over to Santovenia.  When I was close to the village, around 9 a.m. I heard fireworks then a brass band!  As I entered the little town, I saw 6 musi cians, four brass players and two drummers serenading in front of a house.  The next thing I knew a young man was pressing a plastic cup of moscatel , a local sweet wine.  Turns outthat on this third morning of the fiesta the band goes to every house to play; the family pays them a little and brings food and/or drink out for all.  Children, young people, elderly couples were all dancing.  I loved it.

I had also noticed men sweeping the streets with brooms, shovels, wheelbarrows - everyone parties all the night before - then the firehouses came out to hose down the streets.  Tradition.

Love,  mary

September 22

Yesterdayj, by chance - do I believe in coincidence? - I was arriving in San Juan de Ortega, thinking I would go on a

Bit further, but feeling tired, I saw four musicians arriving, cello, violin, flute and keyboard.  I asked them if there was a concert?  They said they were playing at a wedding inside the church in about an hour and that I would be  welcome to listen.  

I checked into the alberque and had a bite, then sat in the 11 th century stone church.  Their music was sublime- Bach, Handel, Ave Maria - the keyboard player was played by a soprano - interesting to watch the wedding from the side aisle;  the bride and groom arrived hand in hand.  Spanish women seem to have a great sense of style.

September 22

September 22

September 21

Setber 21

September 20

Villafranca de Montes near Burgos

San Marin

September 18th

Now it is the 18th - time and kilometers have flown by!

I'm sitting in the courtyard of an alberque in Redecilla de Camino, just over the border into Castilla y Leon, well west of the Basque Country I loved, but still a lovely landscape.  The fields here are much bigger, potatoes, wheat, hay and sunflowers.  Stilly he people live in the village sand go out daily to their fields, in contrast to the US where everyone seems to want to live in a separate house in the middle of their own lands.  (Once again, the American devotion to ownership and its consequent "pursuit of loneliness).

Last night I was in a small private alberque run by a serious, experimental painter, a large, little bit intersection man named Petrus.  His great love is Mexico, hence the name of the place, de lavirgen de Guadalupe.  Good food, a simple dinner and petite breakfast.

Monday and Tuesday I treated myself to a hotel with bathtub!  In a beautiful mountain valley, and the hotel actually in one wing of a 10th century on big monastery.  Photo to follow (I hope).

The town and both monasteries there are named after San Millan (accent on the second syllable). He was a shepherdwho left his flock sometime in the sixth c. To live in a cave high on the mountain as a hermit.  He was a healer, though, so soon more men than the caves could accommodate joined him, so the first monastery was built - with many Mozarabic elements since this was during the  Moorish occupation of Spain.  

Millan died at age 101.  Three centuries later a Bishop wanted to move his remains to a nearby larger town, Najera.  But when the oxen pulling the wagon with the casket refused to leave the valley, everyone understood they were expressing the will of the saint.  So on the site of their refusal to budge was built the larger monastery.

It was here that some anonymous wrote the first ever recorded the first words of Castillian which became the Spanish language -all writing before this time was in either Latin or Greek.

Anyway, San Millan is one oft favorite laces on earth now,  well worth the two extra days of walking.

My spirits are good, but my body is protesting even more.  Now wearing a bandage on my right foot and as of today, another supporting one on my left knee.  The pharmacist said that often when there is a favoring of one side, this stresses the other side.  

Hope all are well.  Much love,  mary

September 12

I stayed  in my first donativo alberque - free, but with a donation left in the morning.  This one was staffed by two after middle age men, one Italian, one German, both of whom were volunteer hospitaleros, speaking the rudiments of many languages.   I felt in them such love for humanity and for God.

More than the beauty of the countryside and villages, more than the so many interesting people of all ages whom I've met, I'm coming to love most the culture of the Camino - friendliness, generosity and mutual respect.  Someone passes you - many in my case as I am slow - they always look you in the eye, sometimes just greeting you, often inquiring where you are from and if you are doing well, and always wishing you,  "buen Camino!"

Is it because we are all walking the same road, making the same effort, carrying few possessions?

Some of the many people I've met:

A young, beautiful high school graduate, dressed like a Gypsy, with colorful harem pants brilliant scarves, who speaks 7 languages - German, Czech, Slovak, Bulgarian, very good English and very good Spanish. Next month she begins  Medical studies on scholarship at the University in Tubingen.  She walks the Camino to ask God for a blessing for her new life away from her family.

A late twenties S. Korean man, who has worked 6 years on "equity research" after getting his degree in Actuarial Science from the University of IL.  He quit his job last fall, because he believes capitalism is destroying the planet.  His family is strongly Christian, but he has many doubts and walks as a spiritual searching.

A class on the Camino from Franklin Pearce College.  The kids get college credit for Spanish, for PE, for history, culture and religion.  They spend 8 or 9 weeks walking, sleeping in the same place but exploring the experience on their own during the day so they can each write a reflective paper at the end of the quarter.  One of them, Hannah ( whose mother is Mary) is majoring in Graphic Communication, carries her heavy camera and will do a book with commentary as her project.

So many more, but my eyes are tired.  And the rest of me, too.  The place I'm staying tonight, a converted monastery, has bunk beds three levels!  Luckily, I'm in the middle not the very top!

Love to all,br

September 11

September 9th

Well, of course I have forgotten how to upload new photographs to this blog! So sorry. Perhaps some young person will help me along the way.

I am having a wonderful up time - the people (there are very, very many peregrines - I am never more than 10 minutes out of sight of another one or a group walking together) are nearly all very friendly and helpful; the country side so beautiful with rolling hills, fields now of grain freshly harvested, each village with a natural stone church and best of all, hundreds of beautiful  ego logics or wind generators on nearly every ridge top.

I spent Friday night on the flop of a former gym because I arrived in Zubiri too late to find a bed.  It was PL because I found a discarded pad and also some cardboard to put under it.  Nevertheless, sleeping in a space with thirty or so other Peale with rain pounding on the metal roof made rising very early easy to do.

I was in the Camino before dawn with my flashlight.  Unfortunately for me there was  very nice Belgian man in need of light, and he set a pace that was too fast for me on an alternately muddy and rocky track.  By the time he charged ahead in the daylight, I had apparently injured my right foot.  My fault, I know, I didn't have to keep up with him, but  anyway by the time I reached Pamplona, I was quite sore.  Stopped and bought some anti-inflammatory cream, and had a luscious day and a half of rest with my Basque friend Nerea.

She works in ecological cooperative, an organic food store in which no money is used.  It is a membership organization and when your tab is totted up and you sign the ticket that amount is debited from your bank account.

She and her very kind partner, angel live in the ground floor of a nicely refurbished old house.  It has big south-facing windows and a deck.  All the country houses have three floors, ground floor for animals, middle for people and top for hay.  So practical; warmth and dryness for everyone.

Nerea and her sister gave me a massage yesterday.  I had decided on a relaxed day instead of walking around Pamplona - I had met her in the old city, so had already seen how quaint and beautiful it is.

Today walked over thE Alto de Perdon, famous peak with rusted steel  sculptures of medieval peregrines.  

Ted for dinner!

Love to all, 

MBR

September 4

On the train, the Renfre fast train between Madrid and Pamplona.  Very tired - jetlag plus a lovely dinner at the home of Antonia and Antonio Sagredo, she an old friend of Katherine Gould-Martin.  They kindly walked me home at 11:30 p.m.   The train left Madrid at 7:35 this morning.  

I loved Madrid - for a city.  Hostal Dulcinea on a quiet narrow street very near the Prado, which is overwhelmingly large, but well-organized.  I have studied many of the paintings there but also found some unfamiliar artists like Joaquin Sorolla,a social realist from turn-of-the-19th to 20th centuries.  One of his works is "And They Still Say Fish Is Too Expensive!"  It depicts a young fisherman dying after an accident on the deck of a boat, attended by two older men whose faces are resigned and compassionate.

I keep seeing it even now in my mind's eye.

My fiend Nerea is meeting this train.  It will be good to see her, and she will help me get to St. Jean.  I should be on the Camino by tomorrow!  Love, mary burton

MBR at Alto de Perdon

Nerea & Mai & Mai's dog

View from Nerea's house

Church in Merea'village

September 5th

Friends,

I am finally walking!  Just enough for a first day.  Since the intermediate albergues were both completo, Angel insisted on driving me, on a one lane country road high above the timber line to spontaneous on the Camino where it intersected this road. 

I thought I had a photo of the hundreds if orejas ( starting to think in Spanish!) sheep, but I didn't' get it.  Oh, we'll.  the wind was ferocious.  I needed my sticks to keep from falling over.   The mountains are beautiful, vast grassy slopes, dropping off into small farms, houses all with red tile roofs.

After the very top, we descended IMO. A series of copses with thick forests of birch and alder under which  green grass was mixed with moss, 

Nerea says that Navarra had a wet, wet winter and spring but is now unusually dry.  Plenty of grass for the sheep and horses remains, thank heavens.

The descent into Roncesvalles was brutal  - I found out after reaching the albergues that the tourist bureau in St. Jean was advising people not to go the way I went.  

We walked down 600 meters in 2 miles - my legs were trembling.  

All love,   Mbr

September 4

On the train, the Renfre fast train between Madrid and Pamplona.  Very tired - jetlag plus a lovely dinner at the home of Antonia and Antonio Sagredo, she an old friend of Katherine Gould-Martin.  They kindly walked me home at 11:30 p.m.   The train left Madrid at 7:35 this morning.  

I loved Madrid - for a city.  Hostal Dulcinea on a quiet narrow street very near the Prado, which is overwhelmingly large, but well-organized.  I have studied many of the paintings there but also found some unfamiliar artists like Joaquin Sorolla,a social realist from turn-of-the-19th to 20th centuries.  One of his works is "And They Still Say Fish Is Too Expensive!"  It depicts a young fisherman dying after an accident on the deck of a boat, attended by two older men whose faces are resigned and compassionate.

I keep seeing it even now in my mind's eye.

My fiend Nerea is meeting this train.  It will be good to see her, and she will help me get to St. Jean.  I should be on the Camino by tomorrow!  Love, mary burton