I was dreading today, knowing that it would be a walk of more than 30 kilometres, but in fact it has been one of the most enjoyable days so far. The only difficult part was when walking what was ironically called ´Calle Camino Real´ (the original Camino Street) which was a major roadway and involved the usual flattening yourself against the nearest wall and hoping that cars won´t hit your rucksack. Since arriving in Oviedo, a really beautiful city, I´ve even had time and energy to visit two exhibitions (the first, accidentally entered, being a photographic exhibition on the local football team Real Oviedo!!! Surely Mark must have guided my feet there!!!) and will go to Mass in the church opposite the albergue at 8.00pm instead of falling asleep as usual! The other exhibition was the Art Gallery - a wonderful collection of paintings spanning 1000 years, from early Church paintings (hauntingly beautiful) to contemporary. There was a room full of El Greco paintings of the apostles, a (not particularly inspiring) Picasso and a really interesting Salvador Dali. I am not at all familiar with Spanish artists but some of the work from the early part of the last century was really striking.
I´ve now perfected the technique of having everything organised the night before so that I can dress in the dark and remove my rucksack as quietly as possible so as to be on the road before 6.30am (having said that, there have been a few times that I have discovered half way through the day that I´m wearing items inside out and back to front as a result!). The first hour or so of the day is magic - the sun doesn´t rise until about quarter to eight and very few people seem to stir before 8.00am, so I´m usually walking in almost complete silence, through streets or country paths that are totally still. It can sometimes be difficult to find the yellow painted arrows that are the indicators of the Camino, and when the route leads onto muddy tracks, then it´s a really interesting experience! I remember one morning walking down one of the tracks that must be very old - literally carved into the earth with banks rising steeply on each side, overgrown with brambles and a riot of wildflowers and herbs - and having to slash away with each step because of the spider webs that had been thrown from one side of the path to the other overnight. Increasingly, I sing as I walk along - especially Brian Boniwell´s version of ´The Lord is My Shepherd´because it reminds me of walking with Mark - it´s become my opening prayer for the day.
If it´s not raining, then the sun can be quite warm by 11.00am so definitely the best walking is done before then. Today´s temperature got up to about 29 celcius, which is about as hot as it´s reached so far - so not bad. Last night, when the men were talking in the albergue, it was interesting that even the most experienced of the walkers seem to have the same pattern as myself - the best walking before 11.00am, the last couple of hours the most difficult. I´m realising that I´m not doing too badly.
Today´s route, with a few minor sections of dirt track, was mostly along minor roads and well-trodden paths. Sometimes the road may be isolated for many kilometres - once more than 22 - but today´s was basically passing from one village to another and even through a small town before approaching Oviedo itself. I love going through the villages where so little seems to have changed over the years - the men scything the long grass under the apple trees, the women meticulously cleaning the door step. Every window sill carries a pot of bright geraniums and every garden a plot of corn, cabbages, onions, lettuce and herbs. Chickens run freely under the trees (and sometimes on the road!) and cows, sheep and the odd goat keep the grass under control. Poverty, especially in the outer areas of towns, however, is really noticeable - the houses in disrepair, a stench from poor drainage, and piles of rubbish. In recent days, too, I´ve seen what seem to be gypsy encampments - one today where a home of sorts had been put together from sheets of plyboard and materials which, from the decorations, may have been salvaged from a cafeteria, and a dozen battered school desks and chairs were ranged in front of a van where a young woman with missing teeth was playing with two small children while her husband was hammering together a shelter for the dogs.
As I´ve been walking through different regions of the North of Spain, I´ve noticed that there are very strong local characteristics. In this area of Asturia, for example, many of the houses have sheds next to them. These stand about a metre and half high, made of thick slabs of dark wood and are either thatched or tiled. They are raised on tapered plinths of concrete or, on the older ones, wood, topped with huge flat stones and many of them are beautifully decorated or hung with dried herbs or heads of corn. Apparently, the tapered stands are to prevent the rats reaching the harvest stored inside - though I can´t imagine there would be too many rats around, given the extraordinary number of wild cats everywhere. And every house seems to have at least two or three dogs chained up!
Highlights of today - eating my lunch (an apple and a piece of local cheese) on the grass outside a twelfth century church in one of the villages, and crossing a bridge that dates from Roman times, associated with the earliest pilgrims to Compostela. This evening, I went to the Cathedral in Oviedo where there is an early painted wooden statue of San Salvador (the Saviour). The tradition is that the pilgrim who goes to San Diego (to Santiago de Compostela) without visiting this statue of San Salvador ´has seen the servant and not the Saviour´. So I´m very glad that I made this detour to the monastery of Valdedios and Oviedo!
Guilleme, the young Belgian student, is at Oviedo tonight, as are the Belgian father and son (whom I now call the ´Roadrunners´), and the Camino Man (the old Spanish man who has walked the Camino 7 times). I´m actually avoiding Guilleme a little at the moment - his insistent cheerfulness (´you know, the sign of a pilgrim is his smile!´) and continual declarations on all aspects of pilgrimage become a bit irritating after a while! Last night, he gave us a talk on St Francis of Asissi - now, I´d always been quite fond of Francis but after this account of how wonderful St Francis is because he counted the happiest days of his life as the day when he walked away naked from his father and the day when he was beaten within a inch of his life by robbers, and how he always looked to have less, to have less, to have less - well, I can´t help feeling St Francis might have been a bit of an infuriating prig, or one of those terribly earnest teenagers who know exactly how to change the world. I just prefer a saint who says ´this is bloody tough, I don´t feel like being nice to everyone, and actually I´d rather not talk to anyone right now´. In fact, someone grumpy and anti-social like myself!!!
I also met at the albergue tonight two Hungarians who are about to start the Camino. They have been planning the walk for five years but only have enough time to complete a shorter route, hence the Primitivo (I didn´t like to tell them how difficult it is supposed to be). Beautiful gentle men. Tomorrow, I have to find the road back to Aviles - a bit apprehensive, but everything has gone well so far.
Asha - it is always so good to hear from you, dear friend. I think of you very often and how much you might enjoy this kind of walk - simply the time and space to think, to pray, to grieve.
Maria - let me know how things are. I can´t access Facebook (you know how I never remember codes etc!)
Today I thought a lot about Rostrevor and the students - I hope they have been as wonderful as the picture of them that I keep describing to others!
