Underway at 7:15, leaving behind the still-snoring young German woman, and helping the older Korean gentleman find his (our) way out of the locked gates in the dark. I say dark, because the fingernail of a moon is growing ever slimmer. Yay for headlamps! Another yay for wearing it instead of carrying in the pack (she glances sideways at the Korean).
Last night’s place was about a mile (1.5km) before Hontatas, so our fervent hope was that something in town would be open by the time we got there, and Saint Brigid came through: hot coffee, fresh from the oven pastry, and a hard-boiled egg.
The walk today was gently downhill, along a small draw with a creek. There were some lovely vistas as the sun worked its way down to The Valley floor.
Late morning we arrived at the ruins of the Convent of San Anton. What’s so spectacular about these ruins is not their size, or their design, but the fact that they have survived at all. I have so far covered nearly half of northern Spain, and these are the first I’ve seen: all the others — and every town had one or more lodgings/infirmaries for pilgrims — have been destroyed in Spain’s innumerable wars. This building dates from the 1140’s; the monastic order operating it went defunct 1760’s, the civil seizure of monastic properties was 1835, and since 20th century it has been run as a pilgrim albergue.
An hour and several conversations later, Castrojeriz appears. This is a large hill town; like the others, laid out in a series of semicircles at the base of a fortification. No, I was not tempted to climb the hill for a closer look, although it is possible to do so.
This is Spain; even the lowly parish church has ornate reredos in its side chapel.
Lodging: Albergue Rosalio, Castrojeriz
Kitsambler's Journeys 