3 apr

Walked another 42 kilometres today, from La Virgen del Camino to Astorga, making a total of 1176 kilometres.
I thought the way into Burgos was depressing. The way out of Leon is worse. At least 30 kilometres of endless industrial buildings, separated by some boring villages and on a path next to a highway with thundering trucks passing by. Dreadful.
But there was sun. And nice company. Met Bruno from Rio de Janeiro. He’s a former stockbroker who has been travelling for one year one month and five days now. Went to India twice, to Nepal, to Indonesia, to France and will return to Brasil towards the end of the month. He doesn’t know if he wants to stay. It will depend on the result of the elections this fall, it seems. If the socialists win again, he’s gone. They have bought the elections by subsidizing inactivity. The middle classes have been squeezed to the maximum. The result of the elections might all depend on the result of the World Cup football, this summer in Brazil. ‘The team isn’t that great, which funnily enough that makes it more likely they’ll win. And then the election will be safe for the government.’
He describes places he visited according to the surfing conditions. ‘Great waves’, is the highest compliment he can come up with for a place. If he would have to leave his preference would be Bali. ‘The best waves.’
Bruno and I had lunch in a restaurant where one of the barkeepers came and told him it was not done in a restaurant to take off your shoes and socks. We had just been delighted by the selling skills of another waiter who described to Bruno, with his own hands, how to crack open the crab meat he was eating. He actually took the crab’s head in his own hands to demonstrate. Bruno happily ate the meat. We wondered if they were acting a good waiter – bad waiter role, and then we were discussing who was the bad one and who was the good one, because bare peregrino feet were not really appropriate, Bruno realized on second thought. And the waiter who had told him so, was later seen pushing around a stroller with a baby of two of the young guests of the restaurant. There were only good waiters in this restaurant, we decided.
Finally the Camino drifted away from the highway this afternoon. There were some hills actually, with much higher mountains in the background. They seemed to be a kind of warning of what can be expected next.
So this was the end of the Meseta, the Spanish Plains. I am glad. They’re boring. They bring you from the lovely hills of the Rioja to the scary Montes de Leon, and there is not a good alternative to connect these two lovely areas, but the experience is not very exciting. Or it is like what Bruno told me. You can focus on your own thoughts, on the real reason why you want to walk, on the things you want out of life, instead of being distracted by the beautiful scenery surrounding you. He might be right. I am not sure if I didn’t focus too much on just getting over with these plains, walking too many kilometres a day, and stretching myself. But then I heard that Richie and David walked 55 kilometres the other day, and Lito walked 50 kilometres today, with new shoes he bought in Leon. Which made me realize that accomplishment is always relative. Which I really knew already. So there was a few hundred kilometres without progress. But that’s just the way it is. Another 256 kilometres to achieve new heights, which should be easy, with the highest mountain tops of the Camino in sight.