Where in the world is David today? Sahagun

OK, so here are today's catch up items. First, I got bitten badly in the night a couple of nights ago (in Burgos, in fact) and the irritation is only just going. Second, I have been noticing more and more just how many churches there are - you can often see at least five or six from wherever you are - two or three in one town, sometimes. What that has left me wondering about is what that says about the presence of God everywhere. I know, I know, I am supposed to understand that this is why we have a parish system in the Church of England, but it has come across to me very strongly here. In particular, it has me reflecting on what the reverse would say - i.e. we all gather at the places where the life is. Local here is local, and there is something very significant about that. It isn't all that difficult to get from Village A to Village B in the Tees Valley - here it may be a really stiff walk or an uncomfortable drive, and not an easy cycle, I should add. That deserves some more thought.

The third thing I have noticed, though I may be wrong, is that perhaps the age profile of the pilgrims I am meeting is changing slightly - upwards. I seem to be meeting less college students doing the Camino after exams and taking a rush at it, and more 'older' pilgrims taking the Camino at its own pace, perhaps for the second or third time. Maybe that is why the crowd in last night's refugio/albergue (which was very full) were such quiet and considerate people. Or maybe it is simply to do with tiredness setting in, or any number of other things. At any rate, they were considerate and quiet, even though they were just as keen to get on the move this morning. As ever, I was sorry to say goodbye and 'Buen Camino' to the people I had chatted with - John, the Verger of St George's Hanover Square, and the lady from Puerto Rico, whose name I never learned to mention just two.

We woke up to torrential rain this morning, as expected, but it stopped at breakfast time. I hoped, in vain, that it would turn out to be a weather system having blown through, but I was wrong, so wrong (hence there are almost no pictures at all today). I put on partial wet weather gear anyway, and hoped for the best, and it seemed OK for the first 8km or so. The wind was still strong, but the rain was just 'spitting'. But that didn't last, and by the first time the road kinked (from WNW to WSW) it was wild, and that turn was a turn from a cross wind to a vicious cross wind. So today's word is wild. You just have to look at the ride statistics to get a sense of it. There is a section that was entirely level where my average speed dropped to about 8mph, and I really wondered whether I could keep going.

Remember I wrote yesterday about just keeping the wheels turning? I had to keep reminding myself. Psychologically, today has actually been the toughest day (in reality rather than in anticipation). The thing is, you just don't get to choose your weather. Had it not been for the simple joy of spotting another creature - this time a caterpillar - crossing the road, and meeting a lovely French couple cowering in the lee of a house just when I needed to stop for a snack, I think I might seriously have had to take shelter for an hour or two and take another shot at the rest of the journey.

I'm not alone in the feeling, clearly. There were long stretches where the footpath was right alongside the road and there were no pilgrims in sight at all. The ones I did come upon were often huddled under their raincapes looking for all the world like hunchbacks. Lots of pilgrims are reporting having done a very short day today (and yesterday too, in many cases). This is a telling point in the journey, and the weather forecast is pretty gloomy for the next couple of days. There is a high pressure area lurking over the Bay of Biscay sending a series of weather systems across northern Spain, and together with the altitude factors that's dumping a lot of rain. In case you haven't seen, further north in Asturias and Galicia there has been massive flooding, washing away cars, etc. We haven't got that, but what we have is enough to soak me to the bone, the proofing having washed off my jacket after a few launderings on the way south through England and France. You should have seen the sodden skin on my palms on arrival today!

Anyway, thinking about myself, tomorrow's forecast for the Leon area (where I am headed next) is "Occasional rain and drizzle in the morning; otherwise, remaining cloudy and cool", and the forecast for the Saturday, when I head on to Astorga is "Mostly cloudy with a couple of thundershowers". Sunday through to Wednesday could be much better, but the whole journey could still end with rain. We'll see. On the other hand, thinking about others, I find myself looking back to the life of pilgrims of the middle ages, travelling in much less suitable clothing than me. I've read enough mediaeval mystery stories with passages about monks struggling through horrible weather in strange places in sodden woolen habits, but I have never quite related to them in this way before. You never catch one of them thinking or saying "I wish I had re-treated my second-best habit with Nikwax/Graingers/(substitute your own favourite proofing product) before leaving Canterbury".

One of the ironies of today was that I had chosen a specific prayer intention, thinking that it would be a good day for finding a rhythm and praying as I went. Ha, ha. It didn't exactly work as I had expected, but even then I was pleased to discover that I could adapt the pattern and stick to my intention. My bike computer beeps and starts a new lap every five miles (8.05km), so every time that happened, I consciously brought the main topic to mind again and prayed about a new aspect for a few minutes (usually till I found I could think of nothing but pedalling once again). Then I sort of 'signed off', committed the topic, and got back to what I now think of as 'the fight'. I would find it coming back from time to time, but I didn't pressure myself to work hard at it, I just kept the wheels turning as well as I could and let it turn over at a different level in the brain. By the time of the next beep, I was usually quite happy to let go of that particular aspect, and ready primed with a new one to start on. That, if nothing else, was a gift from the day.

By the time I came to the last few km, as the graphs relate, I had found a second wind and came into town quite briskly, but I was certainly ready to stop. I had read my unreliable book and knew where to head at Sahagun when I arrived, but there were several signs for a variety of albergues (refugios). One of them was for a 'new', private albergue with food available, English spoken, free WiFi and only 200m away. The decision was made, but it is a crazy place! The picture doesn't really tell the whole story. The decor is interesting - somewhere between interior of a barn and a venue for pseudo-mediaeval banquets. There are interesting bits of art all over the place, but when you find out that the artist is actually the person doing the handyman jobs around the place, you begin to understand and have more respect. In the dining room (which served an excellent three-course pilgrim's lunch, with coffee and a bottle of reasonable red wine between two for €10), is a mural of the entire family that runs the place. Slightly in the 'Olivio/Dolmio-packaging' school of art, but very well executed, and a symbol of the pride they take in the place. What was quite good, however, was a set of four figures outside, which I photographed (they are all included in this post) portraying aspects of the Camino - the Camino of Wisdom, the Mystical Camino, the Interior Camino and the Fraternal Camino. I am discovering elements of all four, with other aspects too - and definitely a physical Camino.

There are more wonderful people here (again it is very full), though I haven't come across any 'old friends' yet. Lunch was a very friendly affair, some of the people having travelled together quite a bit. I ate lunch with my German bunk-neighbour, Gregory, and next to some other people he had walked with on and off. Among them were my first two fellow bloggers, Fr. Thom Blondin and Glenn Pitre, from St John Vianney RC church in Windsor, Ontario. If you're interested, take a look at their blog on the parish website. Some of their reflections connect with mine, others (and their photographs) reflect the fact of being on foot rather than on a bicycle. Everyone makes their own Camino, even though they may intersect and sometimes overlap.

At this moment it isn't actually raining, but having got warm and dry, Sahagun can wait for another day (or another Camino). The famous guide says you could spend a whole day on its various interesting monuments, but I am happy to wind up this blog, have a kip and see what the rest of the day in the albergue brings. It is still very wet underfoot, so the minimum I would get would be soaking feet, and I'd rather not do that. So, here's signing off for another day. Perhaps I will be able to find a good connection in a city like Leon and treat you to an update on tomorrow's weather when I get there. And perhaps my clothes will be getting dry by the time I get back into the dormitory - or not, as the case may be...