I fell asleep to the deep, gravely voices of two older Spanish men arguing over a card game in the pub across the street. I awoke to the tap-tap-tap of a pre-dawn exit of hikers, a mix of pilgrim's wooden staffs and hiking poles on the cobblestone street. I laid there knowing there was no rush to pack for me this morning, feeling a little guilty I had jumped off my schedule but glad for the rest. Collared doves and the rock pigeons cooed. Somewhere nearby a stork clacked his beak in a display of loyalty to his mate. A metal shop screen went up loudly with a long crashing sound. The bells of the church across the street, still rung by hand by someone pulling on a rope tied to a chain, banged out 6 am. Everything began banging. Car doors, metal rails to hold the bulls, bells. Sahagun is one cacophony of banging by 0630.
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| Bull rails enclose the corner cafe of my hostel. |
From my balcony I hear a constable say to the grocer that Sahagun is totally full. The sun slants into the street. The pilgrims like me who have decided to stay for the day (or entire weekend as my Danish friends have done) begin to relax into street cafe breakfasts. I have nothing else to do but enjoy a break from walking, so I of course go for a walk!
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| Street cleaners have prepared the way to the bullring early! |
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| Ticket window will be very busy this weekend. |
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| The municipal albergue across from the hostel empties by seven. |
During the middle ages Sahagun was a huge Meseta city, rivaling Leon in population and commerce. Now a sleepy town, it boasts enough festivals and fairs throughout the year to draw visitors from all Northern Spain. The Knights Templar had an imposing presence here, and the many Monasteries and churches still standing attest to the influence of many monastic orders. What I find very interesting though is how prevalent the Islamic history is, from complex blue-tiled entranceways to the mosque-turned-church in the center of town.
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| Round walls of a mosque capped by a Romanesque bell tower. |
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| Horseshoe arches, classic Moorish architecture. |
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| Hooded drummer and trumpeter honor a mixed religious history. |
In its day as a trading center of the Meseta, Sahagun would have been pulsating with buyers and sellers from North Africa, the Mediterranean, and the Near East. Jewish residents were valued for their skills in finance and banking. Religions mixed. But then came the Reconquest after the fall of the Roman Empire. Christians "reclaimed" all lands, including Spain, for the Church. Crusades, holy wars, ensued. Moors and Christians fought bitterly over this town and hundreds of others. Jews were expelled in waves of religious cleansing. The most harsh and hideous of these expulsions began in 1492. Towns like Sahagun that were highly dependent upon the financial experience of their Jewish community could not accept these expulsions. Jews were given the choice to convert to Christianity, as were the remaining Moors, or leave - or die. Sahagun's synagogue closed, but was kept neat and clean by neighbors in hopes that one day the Jewish community would return. It has been cared for in this way since 1492.
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| Oliver and Pepe. |
As I returned to the hostel I was happy to meet up with Oliver from France and his Camino dog Pepe who will go home with him in the fall. I've come across Oliver, a chef by trade, stealth-camping across the Meseta where albergues have refused to accommodate his dog. We first met at the companion animal friendly casa rural in Villafranca where Pepe shared a small but clean shed with Francis the Burro. Oliver is not taking a bus home, or a plane, as most pilgrims do when they finish. He plans to walk home, as all pilgrims did during the Middle Ages. "I actually met Pepe only a week from my start in Paris," he told me. "He's been with me the entire way, for months, and I am so happy for his company. My family will adore him!"
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| Iglesia De San Juan de Sahagun |
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| Everyone leaving mass gets to pull on the bell rope! |
Soon the bell across the street atop the pretty Iglesia De San Juan de Sahagun began clanging and banging! My chance to attend a feast day mass! People started streaming up streets, children were led over from the school, pilgrims like me, staying for the running of the bulls, joined in. The church, open only for special occasions and for the Feast of San Juan this weekend, was spectacular with painted rose, turquoise, and red plaster arches and walls. When the long mass ended, everyone was invited to pull the bell rope on the way out. The pilgrim in front of me seemed to struggle with the weight of it, so when my turn came I gave it all I could - BANG! BANG! BANG! The priest laughed and made a Popeye the Sailor pose and said "Fuerte - Buenos!"
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| Iglesia De San Juan de Sahagun |
After mass I wandered around the town and found my way to the top of the hill where the Franscican Monastery sits overlooking Sahagun. Here I was able to apply for get receive my halfway certificate for pilgrims who started in St. Jean Pied du Port. I toured the Monastery and was so impressed with the Muhedjar design and architecture.
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| Renovations have preserved the Muhedjar plastering. |
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| Pilgrims Sanctuary at the Monastery. |
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| Virgin o the Peregrines. |
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| View from the Monastery of the Meseta |
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| My halfway to Santiago certificate! |
