Logistics on a Developing Camino : Castromonte to Medina de Rioseca

Today's walk was a very short 14 km.  This was not exactly by choice, but because the alternative was just over 60 km, to Santervès de Campos.  That distance seemed like it would be too much to enjoy, so we decided to stop in Medina de Rioseco tonight, and walk either 41 or 55 km tomorrow, whichever way it works out.  

We have been experiencing difficulties finding accommodations along the last stretch of this Camino route. Perhaps it is the combination of Easter, Castille y Leon Day, and then Orthodox Easter, or perhaps it is our lack of language skills, but there seems to be a 70 km stretch in which all the Casa Rurals and Hostals are booked and the Albergue de Peregrinos are temporarily closed.  So far everything has worked out, but we have spent a lot more time than we usually do on a Camino trying to figure out the logistics. 

It was a crisp, sunny morning when we left the Albergue in Castromonte this morning.  We made our way through nearly deserted streets to the edge of town, where we descended to a treed trail running along the river. Green leaves brought forth by yesterday's rain were covered in a delicate layer of frost, and dew hung like sparkling crystals from grasses warmed by the rays of sunshine filtering through the trees. 

We made our way along the forested river way amidst a chorus of birds, all eagerly welcoming the spring and the sunshine.  The songs began to change as we climbed the gravel track up onto the wide, flat, meseta once again. For most of the next 9 km to Valverde de Campos we wove our way back and forth through a field of wind turbines.  Their rhythmical whooshing and banging filled the cold morning air, and the long shadows of the turbines strobed across the dirt trail.  We couldn't help but think of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza and wonder whether we too are tilting at windmills out here. 

We walked through fields of bright yellow and green, the morning sun frequently shining directly in our faces as we zigzagged back and forth.  Around 9:30 am we crested the rise of a small hill and saw the red roofs and tall steeple of the church in the small village of Valverde de Campo nestled down below us.  

When we arrived at the Iglesia Parroquial de Santa Maria its soft yellow stone was lit by the morning sun, and it seemed to be alive with birds.  The soft hoo-HOO-hoo of doves could be heard from the tower, and the chirping of a large flock of House Sparrows was so loud it drowned out almost everything else.  We could see loads of them foraging in and around the terra cotta roof tiles, while others busily collected nesting material in nearby trees and shrubs and brought it back to nooks and crannies in the old structure. 

When we made our way to the central square of the tiny village we were very pleasantly surprised to find an open bar!  Since we hadn't had any breakfast yet, we stepped inside for café con leches and tiny pieces of cake.   The lady who owned the bar was extremely nice, and offered to stamp our credentials.  It was a lovely break, and as we sat there many of the locals came in for a drink, a chat, and one or more special loaves of Easter bread. 

As we left the café one of the locals pointed down the street quite insistently, kindly letting us know that the Ermita del Cristo was now open, and we could look inside.  The tiny white hermitage had no windows, but the simple interior of the sturdy stone building was quite beautiful. 

After leaving Valverde de Campos we found ourselves walking beside the paved highway on a dirt track.  The recent rain had rendered it extremely muddy and sticky, and the grass was still wet, so our feet were soon soaked and our pants covered in sticky mud.  Conditions had not been improved by the fact that the trail was clearly used by ATVs, which also drove up and down the surrounding hills and pine covered dunes.  It seems the tension between hikers and motorized vehicles exists all over the world.  

Although it was a bit of a muddy slog, the rolling green hills and fields of the surrounding countryside were beautiful, the weather was perfect for hiking, and the sky above us was filled with hawks and kites soaring above the ridges.  

Around 11 am we began to see the spires of the three churches in Medina de Rioseco rising up over the fields ahead of us. It was a pleasant walk past crumbling old stone walls with flowering fruit trees beyond them, abandoned buildings, and tall concrete walls surrounding small farms. 

We stopped at the edge of town at the first bar we came to and sat outside with café con leches, taking a few minutes to figure out whether we should walk on or stay in Medina de Rioseco.  We wanted to walk on, but when we called ahead to the albergues in the next three stages yesterday there was either no answer or the phone numbers in our guides and apps were out of service.  We tried calling them all again, and confirmed that the next two albergues were closed.  Next we tried calling the hostals in the next few towns, but all were full, for unknown reasons - perhaps Semana Santa?.  Our choice was to stay here for the night, or to walk on 55 km more to the next albergue.  We had already walked 14 km, and know from past experience that 69 km is more than we can happily manage in a single day. 

We made our way up through the old town, whose main street had colonnaded sidewalks supported by thick wooden beams and columns of various designs.  There were crowds of people on the cobblestone streets, and we soon discovered that this was because there was an Easter procession in progress, in which the stations of the cross were being carried back through the streets to the Museo de Semana Santa.  We joined the crowds in watching the festivities before dropping off our backpacks at our hotel and doing some more exploring. 

The Museo de Semana Santa is housed in the Church of Santa Cruz, which is a large, light brown stone structure built in the Classicist style from Vallodolid that is typical of the 16th century. The majestic facade is done in the Herreriano style, and it dates back to the 18th century.  Today it is used to house the processional floats used in the Holy Week parades, and it is open to visitors. 

We watched the procession, which was done with much ceremony.  The large floats were carried by 4-8 men, who carried the heavy floats on their shoulders, and used special y-shaped sticks to rest them on the ground when they stopped. Young boys used drums to coordinate the starts, stops, and marching of the procession, and the men slammed the sticks rhythmically into the ground with each step when they walked.  It was all very impressive. 

When the last of the floats had been returned to the museum, it seemed that the whole town was out on the main street, the adults enjoying a drink in the bars, and the children visiting the candy store for Easter sweets.  All the bakeries were open as well, offering a selection of special pastries.  We stopped in to sample a few, which lived up to the town's reputation for creating excellent sweet breads and pastries. 

After buying a few ingredients from a tiny grocer for a simple dinner in our room, we went back out to explore a little farther.  It felt as though the entire town had gathered for the procession, and the crowds from each bar, cafe, and restaurante were now spilling out onto the main street in a noisy, joyous, crowd.  We made our way to a tiny wine bar, purchased two glasses vino rosado and spent a happy hour or so watching the elegantly dressed and dramatic crowds celebrating. 

 

Medina de Rioseco is the main town of the Tierra de Campos (land of Gothic Fields), and historically its economy was based on sheep and cereals, which are still important today.  Surprisingly, this land-locked town with a population of around 5,000 people is also known as the Ciudad de los Admirales, or City of Admirals.  For reasons that remain a mystery to me, Alonso Enriquéz made the city the headquarters for the admiralty of Castille in 1424.  Shortly afterwards the admirals funded the establishment of the Convento de San Francisco here, which was consecrated in 1491. 

Eventually people began to disperse, the main street of the town began to empty out, and we decided to explore a little further.  In our wanderings we came across the Convento de San Francisco, which is now a museum that houses Hispanic ivories, Flemmish paintings on copper and polychrome, and many other interesting collections.  It was closed, but we were able to step inside the walled courtyard to get a glimpse of Gothic-Romanesque structure.  

 

We continued our exploration, walking down a wide promenade through a beautifully treed city park, and eventually ending up outside the Church of Santiago.  This renaissance church was built in 1533, although much of the exterior dates from later on.  We were pleased to see the statue of Santiago Peregrino (as opposed to the Moor slayer) above the south portal, and to find tiny scalloped shells around the columns on the south portico.  Apparently the inside contains one of the most complete series of Spanish paintings depicting the Life and Legend of Santiago, and it is well worth visiting, but like so many of the other churches we passed lately, it was closed. 

On the way back down the main street we witnessed a very cute and touching sight.  A couple of young boys had built a very elaborate and convincing mini replica of an Easter float, and they were carrying it down the street with great seriousness, banging their own sticks on the ground in rhythm as they went.  It was wonderful to see such spirit! 

Along the main street there is also a statue of an alligator.  Google suggests it was put there in honour of a man named Manuel Milan who traveled to America in the 18th century to seek his fortune, and became mayor of Pueblo, Mexico.  There he acquired the skin of the 4 m long alligator, which he sent back to his hometown.  The one in the street is apparently a replica. I think it is sage to say that when we began this Camino we didn't expect to fins an alligators. 

Eventually we walked out to the far end of town, coming to the park where one branch of the Canal de Castilla ends.  This impressive piece of engineering was constructed in the 18th and 19th centuries as a means of transporting grain.   The canal system is 205 km long and connects the provinces of Palencia and Valladolid.  It closed to boat traffic in the 20th century, and since 1959 its main use has been for irrigation and tourism.  Interestingly, the canal we crossed over in Fromista when we walked the Camino Frances in 2016 was the same canal! 

After a short day of walking and a long day of exploring we returned to our room, ready to make yet another dinner of salad, bread, and cheese and get ready for an early start, in case we have a 55 km walk tomorrow.  While this Camino is incredibly beautiful, we haven't really enjoyed the logistical challenges of finding lodgings and food when everything seems to be 'serrado' day after day. It is perfectly possible that this has simply been a result of bad timing - essentially we're walking during a two week holiday.  However, it has made us question what we expect on a Camino, why we chose a developing route, and why we are here walking right now in the first place. So far the Camino has provided, but this way demands a high degree of faith and patience. After 10 days or so of hiking our patience and faith are running low.  Then again, perhaps that is what we need to learn on this particular walk.

Distance: 14 km
Accommodations: Hotel Vittoria Colonna