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| Pilgrims mill about waiting for Mass. |
Those wishing to attend the Pilgrims Mass at the cathedral were directed to walk around the corner to the main street of the town at six. The service was moving. All pilgrims were invited to come forward and receive the blessing.
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| No pics allowed during mass, this was well before. |
Most of us were exhausted and spent only a few minutes exploring after a pilgrim dinner. I met Dr. Kate Jenkins, director of the Institute of Pilgrim Studies at William and Mary while scarfing down fresh fish and salad. We hit it off right away and u was honored to have her so interested in my working landscapes research. We promised to find each other on the trail in the next few days. Back to the monastery and lights off at 9pm. I was surrounded by a symphony of snorers and got very little sleep. It seemed like I had just begun to sleep soundly when the Brothers came striding down the aisles of bunk beds, throwing open shuttered windows, singing loudly something in Latin. People groaned and moaned. It was pouring outside. So off we went at 6:30am into the deluge.
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| Trying to be upbeat in the rain, groups of pilgrims sing together. |
It was miserable. We had a very long walk to Zubiri of 14.5 miles. But what can you do? Keep singing. I couldn't stand the noise however and waited until the trail was quiet and continued through the Basque town of Burguete. People were opening their shutters and seeing me pass by their houses, called down "Santigoria! Santigoria!" (Basque for "On to Santiago!") I felt immediately better.
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| A shuttered window open in the rain and a woman calls out Santigoria! |
I came out into beautiful farm country and came upon a farmer clapping for a laboring mare. I had studied up on the heritage breeds of Iberian ponies I might see and recognized his ponies as Asturcon, fleet little horses users for sheep herding. I tried out my Basque and inquired about the breed. The farmer clapped for me! Yay! He told me Basque, which I did not understand, all about the horses. With three big pushes, the little foal was free! I clapped too!
A group of wet pilgrims was gathering to watch and cheer for the newborn. The farmer was very happy we had stopped.
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| Asturcon herding horses. |
The hike into Zubiri was long and wet but the hills and storm clouds added drama to an otherwise dreary day. I managed to stay alone for most of the walk, following the Camino markers, walking around flooded sections of trail, trying to ignore the blisters forming in my wet boots. Finally to Zubiri I stood shivering in the doorway of an albergue. It was 1:00 and I had slogged 14 miles in six hours. A blistering pace. Pun intended.
