Day 20 - Carrion de los Condes to Calzadilla de la Cueza (19km)

Staying in a monastery seems to have its benefits. This morning we experienced what I can only describe as the miracle of Santa Clara: 5am came and went and there were no alarms going off, no torch lights flashing around the room like searchlights, no rustling of rucksacks and unzipping of bags. It was peace and quiet and darkness until just before 7am at which point a chorus of 'Happy Birthday' echoed round the room for Robin who is celebrating her birthday today. A little later we danced around the small courtyard outside our room to the Beatles singing 'When I’m Sixty-four'. No prizes for guessing her age...



Today was short and flat and straight. It started out on a long straight road and became a long straight track in a flat landscape save for the occasional trees lining the route. I pressed on alone early in the day to get ahead and find a place for everybody to stay as well as to enjoy some solitude. Alone and undisturbed you can more easily slip into the moment, become more receptive and notice more of what is around you. You pick up on the colours and the changing shades of green as the wind disturbs the leaves and creates ripples on the crops; you smell the flowers as you pass; you hear the wind and the birdsong in the trees around you; you feel the cooling breeze on your skin. And with the occasional sip of refreshing cold water to revive you - tasteless as it may be - all the senses are sated.

I walked in this frame of mind for two hours or so. Occasionally the path would be devoid of all trees for lengthy stretches and during these times I would find myself feeling small and exposed in the landscape, a speck of nothing under a massive open sky. Not for me a sense of communing with a higher deity or an affinity with the beauty and the landscape through which I walked, just a sense of isolation and inconsequence.  It was an interesting feeling but in no way disturbing.

Approaching Calzadilla de la Cueza

I am now in a small and lively bar awaiting the arrival of my fellow walkers. We have bunks upstairs for the grand sum of €5 a head which is probably more than the cost of the beer and food I have in front of me.

Two hours later and the girls have arrived with Gale, our latest companion. He too is American. The afternoon slips by with drinks and chatting and a short sleep before we meet up with Rob and Greg and others for a surprise birthday meal in the local restaurant. As well as wholesome food, cake and cava all appear courtesy of the obliging staff and a great time is had by all. Robin, wearing her 'Feliz Compleanos' sash - secretly purchased in Burgos - is taken aback and everybody retires with that warm glow of Camino companionship. It is another memorable evening with friends.