León

This morning we had a walking tour of the old city of Leon with a local guide. She was deadly dull, but she did point out a few interesting things.

A house designed by a young Antoni Gaudi -- prior to his projects in Barcelona -- looks like a castle and has a statue of Gaudi on a bench outside.

Also, because the lion is the symbol of Leon there is a lion leaping out of a manhole in front of city hall.

There is some sort of festival in town this weekend. We never did get exactly what it's about, but there are all sorts of kiosks set up with vendors (mostly jewelry and food items) with the proprietors dressed up in medieval costumes.

There are also musicians roaming around with bagpipes and drums who are dressed in what I'm sure they imagine to be medieval garb. Who knew that bagpipes were such a big deal in Spain? But there were lots of them around.

At the conclusion of the tour we got on the bus for an hour plus ride to a farming village that may have had a hundred residents. The streets were too narrow for the bus, so we were driven by cars for the last up hill half mile or so to the farm.

Our host, Carmen, raises goats, sheep, and horses. But she also supplements the farm income in several ways. One is agritourism -- hosting people like us. In the same space where she welcomed us, she also runs a bar for locals. And in the summer, she has campers on the property.

Further, she uses her farm animals as therapy animals for children with disabilities. We didn't learn what actual training or certifications she has for this, but she seemed knowledgeable. She demonstrated some physical exercises with a horse, and told about nonverbal children bonding with the cats and dogs on the farm.

Some California and Oregon members of the group fed horses or petted baby goats, but we have been on farms before and this didn't seem a novel experience for midwesterners.

Carmen led a cheesemaking project, and we got to enjoy fresh cheese on our salad at lunch. The meal was quite good with everything but the wine homemade on the farm.

After returning to Leon we set out to visit the cathedral. The cathedral here is in Gothic style, designed with inspiration primarily from French pilgrims on their way to Santiago de Compostela.

It is small, as European cathedrals go, but has more square meters of original stained glass than any cathedral in Europe except that in Chartres, France.

There were also some interesting features, such as an exterior door that has been protected enough by a later addition to preserve the original paint colors of the statuary. We also stepped inside the Basilica de San Isidoro, an older Romanesque style church nearby, but it was just another church.

Cathedral altar

We then made our way through the festival crowd to the Museum of Leon. This is a government-owned museum focused on the history of the region. It was free to senior citizens, and not too bad considering what we paid to get in.

Our feet were tired from museum walking, so we found an outdoor table at a bar on the main street and had a drink while watching people as the Friday night festival crowd grew. It was quite entertaining.

Finally, we walked a bit on the main shopping streets of the "new town" (everything outside the "old town" counts, even if some buildings date back to the 1800s). We didn't really shop, but entered one "dollar store" type place that appeared very tiny on the outside, but went on and on inside with rows and rows of incredibly cheap stuff we didn't need or want. That did it for us for the day.

Ubidea

Our regular bus and driver are back, although the bus still makes some odd noises from time to time. It was a long travel day from Pamplona to Leon, but the trip was broken by a couple of interesting stops.

The first was in the village of Ubidea, which might have 200 people on a Saturday night, but fewer at other times. We were met at the bus by Mikaela, who spoke perfect English with an accent we haven't heard here -- because she is an Australian who studied in the UK before coming to Spain.

Mikaela is part of a team of osteoarchaeologists working in a small laboratory in a converted house on the main street of this tiny place. They are involved in locating mass graves from the Spanish Civil War, recovering skeletal remains, identifying them, and returning them to surviving family members and descendants. Their research also involves the location of burial sites related to older conflicts and periods dating back to the Napoleaonic Wars and even all the way back to the defeat of Charlemagne's army at Roncesvalles (see yesterday's entry).

Obviously very excited about her work, Mikaela explained how bones can reveal much about how a person lived, as well as about how they died. And she explained how objects found with a body, such as coins or musket balls, can reveal on which side a soldier fought.

After this encounter, we walked across the street to a rather unlikely tavern where we were served quite a nice lunch. As always, washed down with plenty of wine.

As we left Basque Country and drove into northern Spain the landscape changed remarkably. This part of the country is obviously more arid, and the mountains gave way to plains reminiscent of Kansas.

At the village of Castrojeriz we rejoined the Camino de Santiago just long enough to walk through town. In a little over a mile we passed three large churches, as well as countless hostels, inns, hotels, bars, and restaurants all geared to the pilgrims who pass through on foot.

This region has been called "The Empty Spain" because so many people have left the rural villages to find work in the cities. Even here in Castrojeriz there were many boarded up houses and businesses. It's clear that the Camino is the only economic lifeline keeping this village viable.

We arrived in Leon in late afternoon, had an orientation walk, and then went to dinner. It was an excellent meal!

Pamplona

Departure from our hotel this morning was delayed by a broken bus, but the company managed a replacement bus and driver in record time. The destination was Roncesvalles (or in French, Roncevaux), a mountain pass in the Pyrenees that has been used by travelers and armies to move between the region that is now France and the region that is now Spain.

A stone marker here memorializes the defeat of part of Charlemagne's army by Basques in 778 C.E. In Basque Country, history has a long memory.

This pass is also the part of the "French Route" of the Camino de Santiago and is a location where many pilgrims begin their walk. We began our walk here, as well. But we only did a bit less than three miles -- only 440 miles short of the Compostela!

The path is well-marked and easy to follow, though one has to be careful to avoid lots of animal dropping from both wild fauna and domestic livestock. At least in this area, it is also very scenic.

Those who begin the walk in France are often near the end of the day when they reach here, and are looking for accommodations. A former monastery here remains an active hostel for pilgrims.

There is also a beautiful church attached to the monastery, designated as a "colegiata." This is a special category of churches in the Roman Catholic administration which places it as more important than a parish church, but not at the level of a basilica or cathedral.

Also on site is a much older chapel which is one of the most ancient along the entire Compostela.

Our walk ended at an inn on the main road through the village of Roncesvalles where we were served a large lunch at the ridiculously early time (by Spanish standards) of 12 noon.

We were also met in the village by a local "friend" who spoke to us about life here, managed to sponge free wine at our lunch table, tried to sell us his self-published albums of nature photos, and insisted on singing and playing guitar for us after the meal (CDs also for sale). Neither his music nor his photography were very good.

After the big meal, the bus ride back to Pamplona was good for a siesta, but we still had some time back at the hotel to prepare for the rest of the day.

We walked first to Pamplona's ornate City Hall where those who wish to take part in the annual encierro, or "running of the bulls," need to check in. The only screening is that participants must be at least 18 years of age, not intoxicated, and not pregnant. They must also not carry any bag, camera, or other items that might impede their movement. Traditionally the runners wear white with a red scarf, but this is not a strict requirement.

With a local man who has run the encierro many dozens of times over more than 30 years, we visited the corral behind the city hall where the bulls are penned the night before the run. He explained the origin and the mechanics of the event, and did a good job of helping us picture it as we walked the half-mile route through the city.

The run ends at the bull ring -- one of the largest in Spain, but used only one week each year -- where a bust of Ernest Hemingway watches over the chute where the bulls enter.

Yes, one probably has to be a bit crazy to run with the bulls. But I know people who jump out of airplanes.