Day 21 - May 28th: A Candy Store

San Juan de Ortega to Santo Domingo de la Calzada: 28.4 miles / 505 total

The only memory I have of my grandfather is as a 4-year-old when we stayed with him and my grandmother at 138 Pine St. in Woodmere, NY. I remember walking with him down the little street on the broken sidewalks, uneven from old tree roots that broke through the cement. My grandfather held my hand, and we walked slowly up to Central Avenue and made a right. Three more blocks and we arrived at the corner store that sold newspapers, tobacco, and an assortment of candy. My grandfather leaned down and told me, “you can pick one candy,” as he walked over and spoke with his friends. I was over the moon, so many wonderous and delicious options, what a surprise! And you bet, I vetted every candy in that store before picking the perfect one.

As I set out on my daily mission to get from point A to point B, I remembered the candy store when I was four. The Camino is a candy store for me today. There is a journey to the store and magical surprises each and every trip. I can honestly say I never think I will meet someone each day or that I will see something wonderous or interesting. But every day it is magical, surprising, inspiring, and authentic. Each experience is a piece of candy for me, and it only requires me to walk out that door and start taking steps.

Our good run of lodging came to an end yesterday as we were not able to secure a room on the Camino. About a 15-minute drive from where I left off was Hotel Camino de Santiago. While the room and decor were fine, the meals were a bust. We had to wait until 8 p.m., both of us super hungry, and upon sitting down and asking the waiter for options, we were crushed to learn that really the only thing on the menu was a hamburger or cheeseburger and bagged salad. I asked the waiter about wine and he told me there is a bottle of red and a bottle of white as options. We drank our bad wine, ate our frozen burgers and fries, but our spirits were not dampened—we had just slayed a challenging day in the heat, found a roof for the night, covered the most distance in a week, and I had no pain in the shin.

After Jax’s run with the herd of cattle, we noticed a slight limp in his left paw last night. I bathed him to get the cow pasture off him, and he passed out immediately for the night. He typically wants to join us if we go to dinner. This time he just looked up at us and seemed to say, “I’ll pass tonight.” I decided this morning to pull him and give him a day of rest, which would also allow Christina to take him to a vet and get a 3-month tick medicine—which she secured in the town of Burgos. Christina dropped me where I left off in San Juan de Ortega, and Jax watched me walk away from the car, heartbroken that he wasn’t coming with me today.

Back on the Camino, the morning chill was gone and thus it promised to be a hotter day than yesterday, which was hot. I have my first blisters because of yesterday’s heat—as I was sweating a lot and my feet were wet because of it. I taped the worst on my left big toe and know this will start the need to pay attention to foot care which up until this point has been carefree.

The trail out of San Juan de Ortega climbs into a remote, forested area that spans 12 km until breaking through at Villafranca Montes de Oca. As I moved through the dense woods alone, I couldn’t help but think of the pilgrims who passed through this notoriously dangerous stretch centuries ago. What happened when someone was robbed? How did they eat or find shelter without money? No phone to call for help, just the dark woods.

At the peak of the mountain, I came upon Monumento La Pedraja, a monument erected to commemorate the more than 300 Spaniards executed and buried in a mass grave by Francoist forces in 1936 during the Spanish Civil War. Coming from the other direction were a group of brothers and sisters from England. They walked over to admire the monument with me and struck up a conversation.

Leaving the forest, I was reminded why Spain was the cradle of the Roman Empire—never-ending rolling fields of wheat, bathed in sunlight, undisturbed for miles.

Near the village of Tosantos, the Camino passes the Ermita de la Virgen de la Peña, a small hermitage built directly into the rock face of a mountain. Dating back to the 9th or 10th century, this cliffside chapel has long served as a spiritual waypoint for pilgrims. Nestled into the limestone, it’s a striking blend of nature and devotion—visible from the trail and still used today for pilgrim blessings and reflection.In the village of Belorado.

I was halfway done on the day and came by a café with Robert and Rosemary from Australia and their Canadian friend sitting outside. I asked which direction the Camino was—since I’m going backward—and they pointed me the right way. Before I left, I grabbed a snack of café con leche, chocolate donut, and two toothpicks topped with anchovies, peppers, and olives. We chatted and laughed.

The heat of the day peaks around 4 or 5 p.m., so I try to be off trail by 3. Unfortunately, with long distances, that’s not always possible. By late afternoon, it was a slog. At the last village before finishing, I filled my bottles at a pilgrim water station. A couple sat nearby. The man, Lionel, asked why I was going the “wrong” way. I learned he and Joy are from Australia, married for 57 years. He told me Neil Armstrong had just stepped onto the moon during their first anniversary. They shared Camino and marriage wisdom.

I rolled into Santo Domingo de la Calzada after 5 p.m. on a windless, hot day. Christina and Jax met me a few hundred meters from the hostel. Even after 46 km—longer than intended—I’m in good shape. Now to recover for tomorrow.

Thanks for the support.

Cheers,

David