Day 19: Our Way or the Highway

A typical, simple breakfast of bread, butter, and marmelade started off the day. We met a young couple from Germany who had also started in St. Jean, and a Scot who was returning from Santaigo, but got some internal condition that is forcing him to return home. He doesn’t know what is wrong with him, but he is not happy about returning.

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As we walked through the streets of Leon, we met up with Santoshi, a Japanese man living in Belgium who lived in the Bronx, New York in the 80s. Super gregarious, he inquired about the cost of real estate and university tuition, having friends with PhD’s with low incomes and few job prospects. Three young men from South Korea who met each other on the Camino told us how popular the Way in their country.

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After passing still drunk young people from the previous evenings, we started to make our way out of the old part of Leon. Gordy, a sweet young lady from Holland who is a facilities manager at a secondary school, walked with us today. A rugby player who thinks she might want to work in hotel administration one day, we wish the walk was prettier for her first day on the Camino. Today’s walk was visually the least appealing.

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After seeing the neatest little houses built underneath small hills like hobbit’s houses, there was little else but speeding cars. It took forever to pass through the industrial part of the city, only to cross N-120, the highway, and walk beside it for 25km. Cars whizzed by, an unpleasant disturbance, especially after the quiet beauty of the Maseta.

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We stopped in San Miguel, where a man whose apartment was right on the Way offered fresh mini plums, cookies, and nuts, as well as a pilgrim stamp. Giant stork’s nests atop the churches looked incredibly comfortable. It was a welcome break after a long walk.

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We rested for breakfast before setting off through more unsightly paths along the busy highway. An elderly man stopped B and Z for a kiss on the cheek. We met Alex, a young Italian from Turin now living in Bilboa. As we neared San Martin, our stop for the day, it was cool to see large solar panels and a sign promoting clean energy.

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We checked into th Albergue Santa Ana for 4€. Simple and set back a bit from the road, the use of the kitchen required money. Still, for the cost, the clean sheets smelling of sunshine and well appointed room were pleasant.

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There wasn’t much to do in this small time. Alex was going stir-crazy and B read and hung laundry while the others settled in for a restful nap. We had another typical dinner of fresh jamon, a cured cheese, and tomatoes.

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Of course, Coca-Cola and the Lay’s olive oil chips (which they need to bring to the States).

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The room was mostly comprised of women, including Bernie, the lovely woman from Brisbane with a hilarious sense of humor, a Swede who has worked in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, another guy from the Netherlands, and three boisterous ladies from Barcelona, one who kept humming that darn Britney Spears song stuck in our heads and another, a history teacher, Mar. Kat found a twin in Vittoria, a half-Irish, half-Italian woman from Dublin who loved cats (Kat fed the cat our leftover tuna). It was fun to chat and gossip for a while about random topics with the other women in our bunk, from great chick flicks to Mel Gibson to Fast Food Nation.

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We chatted into the night, a beautiful ending to a rather not-so-scenic walk.