Camino de Santiago – Part 7
September 9, 2024 marked day seven on the Camino. The previous day took me to Cahors, France. As you may recall from part 6, for a combination of reasons I decided to jump ahead on the Camino to Burgos, Spain. It would take me five trains and two days to do so.
Train #1 took me from Cahors to Toulouse. Train #2 took me from Toulouse to Bayonne. This train had a stop in Lourdes. This city marks what is probably the most famous Marian apparition. Although I’m not very religious, I have always liked the notion of a loving maternal figure who visits the earth from time to time to remind us of her love for us – as the story goes. A refreshing flip side to the wrathful and vengeful masculine deity I interpret in the bible otherwise.
I was very tempted to get off the train and spend a day to visit the grotto she allegedly appeared. However, as mentioned in earlier sections of my story, I was already running way behind schedule. It was going to take two more days off the Camino to get to Burgos and I didn’t want to make it three days. So, I paid my respects from the train as we passed through the Lourdes station.
In the mid afternoon I arrived in Bayonne. This is a lovely city on the Atlantic coast of France, near the Pyrenees and the Spanish border. Up to this point, I had been in or near the mountains of France the entire trip. Suddenly, I was in a warm and flat place with a youthful energy of a beach city. Come to think of it, this was the first time on this trip I noticed young people in any significant numbers. I spent the rest of the day exploring Bayonne and spent the night at Hostel 20, near the train station. Although it rained on and off, I had a nice time there.
The next morning, I took train #3 from Bayonne to the border city of Hendaye. Here I rode my bike across the border to Irun, Spain. I should mention that I had been watching YouTube videos on how to adjust bicycle derailers and did a fairly decent job myself to fix it myself.
It was bittersweet leaving France as I rode over the Bidasoa river. I have nothing but positive things to say about the French people I met along the way and the mountains from Le Puy to Bayonne were gorgeous. Everything that went wrong was my own fault. I did the French section Chris McCandless (subject of the movie Into the Wild) style, with very little planning and learning as I went. It is what it is. I could have made better decisions, but I have a lot of good memories from my time on the French Camino and have no regrets.
In Irun, I biked my way to the train station where boarded train #4 to San Sabastian, a larger city a bit south on the Spanish Atlantic coast. There I made a tight connection to train #5 to Burgos. At three hours, this was the longest train ride of my journey so far. Up to this point, I had been rained on off and on since I got to Europe. When it wasn’t raining, it was at least very cloudy. However, when I arrived at the sleek and modern train station in Burgos I was greeted by sunny clear skies and a temperature of about 80 degrees.
From the train station, I rode a nice network of bike paths into central Burgos. There my first task would be to find an Albergue. The first one I tried was full, but the second one took me in. The hostel was conveniently located near the Cathedral in the center of the historic part of the city. The Burgos Cathedral was spectacular. The two best cathedrals I saw on the trip were, in no particular order, those in Burgos and Santiago. The rest of the city of Burgos was fun and full of energy. I find Spain more upbeat in general than France.
Back at the hostel,I met a woman in the bunk across from mine who worked for tips playing the guitar and singing on the streets. She played “name that tune” with me for at least an hour, which I did poorly at. When she excused herself to work for change for a while, I met a young man from the Netherlands who had just finished his Camino from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Burgos. He invited me to join him for a home-made dinner. I happily accepted. He said he needed to get a few things for it, which I offered to pay for. When he returned, he prepared a delicious dish, which I wish I could remember the name of, that consisted of vegetables and a sauce that I would have to compare to mayonnaise, if forced. I’ve said this before, but the fruit and vegetables I encountered on the Camino were so much fresher and more delicious than anything I have experienced in the United States. Maybe I’m supplying some of the emotion myself, but I find food in the US to taste fake in comparison.
As we ate, we talked about many things. Much like Mark, who I met in Conques, he was what I would call a Camino hippy. Someone who spent a significant portion of his life on the Camino. Such people are the true pilgrims, in my opinion. As they go along, they gently explain to affluent Camino tourists like me the joy of living close to nature and fellowship with fellow pilgrims. It is all done in a gentle way through stories. They are never preachy, but their actions speak much louder than any sermon could.
My day in Burgos was one of my most enjoyable of the trip. The next morning, I would be back on my bicycle in a significant way for the first time in three days. I was itching to get back on the road. More on that next week in part 8.