As famously sung by Queen:
You like to ride your bicycle
That’s well and good and fine
But if I could I’d take your bike
And shove it where the sun don’t shine
With the knowledge of a relatively easy ten-mile day ahead of us, I lay in my top bunk this morning allowing the rustling/ banging/ door slamming/ general getting-up noises of fellow peregrinos wash over me, eventually emerging once everyone else had either set off for the day or gone down to breakfast.
I hate getting people’s names wrong. This morning in the LaMorena bar waiting for my breakfast coffee, I spoke to Geoff and called him Keith. Twice. My apologies Geoff. My only possible excuse is that you allowed me to have just one too many beers yesterday. So not entirely my fault. Possibly?
Whilst in the bar for breakfast, we met properly with Amy (USA) - who we had seen in passing several times over the last fortnight - and she introduced us to Peter and Marsha also from the USA.
Anyway, we hit the road soon after half past eight and it was lovely. Pretty much a level path throughout, we were at Terradillos de los Templarios (strong Knights Templar connection - I need to read up on this) almost before we knew it so we marched on to the village of Moratinos where we stopped for coffee and where we saw, for the first time, a few houses seemingly built into grassy knolls. It was all a bit strange and after giving it serious consideration, I determined that these partially burrowed residences are probably lived in by half-human, half-rabbit creatures. It’s the only logical conclusion.
First beer stop was at San Nicolas del Real Camino where we saw more of the same. It was like something out of the hobbit. And then, a final four miles to our destination for the day of Sahagun where we had treated ourselves to a hotel. Some Spanish hotels are better than others and this one wasn’t. Neither was Sahagun especially promising but after a relax and freshen up, we set out from the hotel to give it our best shot and, as it transpired, we had a great few hours in the town. To start with, we have reached that part of Spain where you get a little tapa with every drink. I think this is particularly civilised so I set out to eat as much as I possibly could.
Throughout the course of this exploratory expedition we met new friends Scott and Maxine (UK), Michael, Paul and Margee (USA) and met up again with Amy (USA) and Tony and Pat (UK). We had a rather splendid time and eventually retired back to our hotel at the ridiculously early hour of eight o’clock but there again we had been out since half past two.
Sahagun is not an attractive town but it has history and is generally known as the halfway stage of the Camino Frances. Indeed, according to my Camino Ninja app, we have now covered just over two hundred and fifty miles and with just the one minor blister to show for it thus far - not too shabby.
So then, what have we learnt to date on our Camino? Well, with apologies to all those nice, considerate cyclists out there of whom we have met several, what we have mainly learnt is that cyclists on the Camino are a right royal pain in the arse.
Listen guys, just because you’re wearing hi-viz lycra clothing does not make you Eddie Mercks and nor does it make you king of the road (or, in this case, king of the path). It does however mean that your arse shape is no secret to anybody and, worse still if you stand up on the peddles, neither are the bits at the other side.
When the Camino path tracks a road, use the bloody road. That’s what it’s there for. And if you must use the path, don’t leave it until the last possible, available second to ring your little bell or beep your little hooter to alert us to your presence. A bit of notice please. We’re not mind readers. Arseholes.
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