18 Apr -- Navarrete - Belorado

I woke up this morning and packed up after everyone had left for the Camino. There was no use pretending I was going to join them. I loaded up, donned my pack and headed out the door. I had gone to the tourist information office the day before and got the bus schedule and map to the bus station. I was set, or so I thought.

The bus station was not on the Camino, it is on a thoroughfare on the outskirts of town. The Camino winds through the town, a fact that is not obvious until you get a city map and really take a good look at it. That meant that I had to cross the Camino twice as I walked across town to the station.  I have noticed that in every village I have stayed in, the only people wandering about town in the early mornings are old men, old women, and Camino pilgrims.  So here I am, loaded with a backpack, hiking poles, and wearing clothing that just SCREAMS "Camino pilgrim" as I try to make my way to the bus station. As I walk, the old men and women start yelling at me telling me that I'm going the wrong way.  "Camino aqui!" I keep hearing them say as I smile and wave them off. They just shake their heads and walk away. One woman was not going to let me get lost on her watch.  She was outside sweeping her step when I came by. She yelled "Vas por el Camino equivocado!! El Camino no esta aqui!!"  I said, "I'm trying to go to the bus station!" But she didn't understand me, so she went after me with her broom - steering me toward the Camino trail.  I let her redirect me because she was only trying to help, and I was afraid of her broom. Then I went down a block to avoid her and turned toward the bus stop again. Not 10 meters later another person tried to redirect me so this time I said "Voy autobus station." He seemed to understand so he waved me off with a "Buen Camino!"

I was just about a block away from the stop when a elderly man came up to me and once again tried to help me find my way. "No esta Camino, por aqui."  This time he grabbed my elbow and gently steered me toward the trail. I tried protesting, but I realized that not only could he not understand me, but he couldn't hear me either.  I kept saying "Voy autobus! Autobus estacion!" He just smiled and nodded and kept talking and leading me back to the Camino.  I had plenty of time before the bus was scheduled to arrive, so I gave in and let him "help" me.  As we were walking, he was telling me that he has done the Camino four times in his life. He seemed quite proud of this fact. He said a lot of things I didn't understand and I tried to protest at first, but he just kept talking, smiling, nodding his head, looking at me with sad eyes that said "This poor pilgrim doesn't know what she's doing."

Then he was telling me about his grandson, (I think he was anyway) and he seemed very proud that the grandson was doing his first Camino for Easter. He kept talking and talking and then he asked me, "Quieres cafe?" That I understood, so I used an exaggerated nod to indicate that yes -- I would LOVE some coffee!! He turned down another street and smiled at me as he said "Usted no dessea que esta uno, es malo." Then he winked at me and I knew he was disparaging the coffee shop on the corner.  He said "Sigueme." And like a good little pilgrim I did as I was told, I followed him. We finally made it to a bakery where he ordered "Dos cafe con leches."  We sat down and drank our coffee together, him chattering on in Spanish and me listening intently, smiling, and laughing with him each time he laughed.  When our coffee cups were empty, we stood to part and he patted me on the head, leaned over and kissed my cheeks and then hugged me tightly.  He said "Buen Camino! Vaya con Dios!" and he pointed me toward the sign that read "Camino de Santiago."  He walked away with a spring in his step that I'm sure I didn't see earlier.  I smiled and turned toward the Camino.  I stood there and rearranged my backpack, took my hat off and put it on again, adjusted my hiking poles, and then when I was sure he was far enough away, I limped as fast as I could in the opposite direction.

The "bus station" was a bench on the side of the highway. There was NO sign indicating this fact. I walked up a ways looking for the sign. I turned around and walked back down a ways, no sign.  I came across another old man walking his dog and before he could tell me I wasn't on the Camino, I asked "Autobus por la Burgos??"  He nodded and pointed at the bench. Satisfied, I took off my pack and sat down to wait.  And wait, and wait. The bus was scheduled to arrive at 11:00am.  Another pilgrim came limping toward me at 11:30 and asked "Autobus?"  I said "Yes" in English and he let out a big sigh and with a smile he said "Brilliant!" as he plopped down heavily onto the bench.  "I was coming as fast as I could with my bum knee." he explained. "Did I miss the bus?" I laughed and said "No, I've been here since a quarter of, and there's been no bus. I bummed my knee too. I think my Camino Frances is done."