September 20, 2018
- Route: León to Hospital de Orbigo
- Distance: 36.6 kilometers (19.96 miles)
After a really nice evening relaxing and treating myself right in León, I felt ready to get back on the trail and knock out some miles. But, as was always the case when the Camino departs a major city, I had to navigate my way thought the suburbs first.
This pattern is starting to feel familiar but that doesn’t make it any more enjoyable. What is it about walking on sidewalks and along storefronts that I find so dismal? I’ve enjoyed walking through the small little towns, and even the city centers on this cultural hike. But, the concrete jungle sprawling around the major cities just isn’t my jam. I’m just not an urban hiker.
Parting ways
As I worked my way out of town, I pondered which of the two routes would be better to follow today. Just 8 kilometers outside León, near the town of La Virgen del Camino, the Camino splits between the official 23.6-kilometer “road route” and an alternate 27.1-kilometer “walker’s route” before re-converging near the town of Hospital de Orbigo.
The benefit of the “road route” is that it passes through towns approximately every three to six kilometers. This means less water to carry and more options of where you might be able to stop along the way. Unfortunately, as the name implies, this route also pretty much runs beside a moderately busy road the entire time. So, it’s not a very quiet or scenic way to spend the day.
Meanwhile, the “walker’s route” is about 5 kilometers longer in distance and diverts pilgrims toward the nearby agricultural fields for much of the way. While there’s less road traffic, it’s not exactly bucolic and there’s still a fair amount of dreaded roadwalking to endure. The other downside to this route is distance between towns is greater, so you need to be more thoughtful about your water and food options for the day.
To be honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to either option. As I approached the point where the two paths diverged, I veered toward the “walker’s route” in hopes that the surrounding countryside would be a more pleasant diversion. It seemed like my fellow pilgrims were equally split between which fork to take, and the meager traffic on the Camino roughly dropped by half after the split.
Normal
The walker’s route, while a far cry from the most enjoyable days on the Camino, wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. The towns I passed through were pleasant enough, and there were even some novel little diversions to capture my attention.
But since the towns were few and far between, I tended to focus a lot of my attention to the various agricultural and engineering sights I passed. As expected, many of them involved water and how to get this precious resource where it was needed most in this dry section of Spain.
While the route lacked a lot of things, I felt like I was seeing the “real” Spain that most visitors will never get to see. Like so many tourists, I’ve fallen into the trap of visiting nice beaches, capital cities, and museums around the world. But, the essence of a country isn’t always in this flashy Instragram-worthy sights. It’s in the ordinary communities and people you meet along the way.
A bridge to remember
As the afternoon wore on, the two routes connected back together again just outside Hospital de Orbigo. This is one of those towns every pilgrim remembers vividly because you must walk along an extremely long (670 foot) stone medieval bridge.
In 1434, Don Sureo de Quiñones and nine of his fellow knights challenged anyone who wanted to pass over the bridge to a joust. He hoped to break 300 lances to prove his love and win the affections of Doña Leonor. If the pilgrims didn’t want to participate, they had to leave a glove as a sign of their cowardice.
This historical event didn’t fade into the village’s memory, but remains a central part of their modern culture. Each June, a medieval festival is held in Hospital del Orbigo, which also includes jousting events on the field at the far end of the bridge.
This is for the birds
After walking across the seemingly endless bridge, I decided to settle down in an albergue and find somewhere to eat for dinner. The restaurant I stumbled upon looked pretty ordinary at first, and after ordering at the bar, the waiter asked me if I wanted to take my meal inside or outside. Given the nice warm temperature of the evening, I chose to eat outside and was led to a garden behind the restaurant.
This is when my evening took a bizarre turn. While waiting for my food, I kicked off my sandals and was enjoying the feel of soft green grass under my bare feet. I could hear birds singing nearby, and upon closer inspection, I could see there was a giant bird cage at least seven or eight feet tall in the corner of the garden. Inside there seemed to be dozens of colorful birds flying around and making cheerful noises.
Then I noticed there were large golden pheasants roaming free throughout the rest of the garden. Initially they stayed toward the fence line while I watched them. After my food arrived, their shyness was quickly overcome by the potential that a tasty morsel might fall off my plate. And before long I had some new friends strutting around posing for photos.
