Translated material
El Camino: It is impossible to stop
The New Times correspondent continues his journey through the Pyrenees in Santiago de Compelled, dear to St. James
Report about the second week of the path
| *El Camino (Spanish) - Path ** Continuation. Beginning: “Six days from the life of a pilgrim”, The New Times No. 13 dated April 21, 2014 |
Behind fifty cities, ahead is hundreds of kilometers. Every day we get up until dawn, collect the sleeping bags, pull the backpacks on the shoulders and go. 25-30–35 kilometers. From city to city, from hill to hill. The legs are breaking like on the first day, and even the strongest cream from tanning does not save the skin. We got bandans, learned how to sleep in a siesta on haylobs and find a fountain of water by sound. On my sticks, rubber tips were already stuck twice and with a guarantee they will change once again five.
April 16. Sisur-Major
A few hours through picturesque fields (not a single tree), and then uphill along a path showing underfoot. A wonderful view from the top, the silence of the approaching town, interrupted exclusively by our heavy breathing. The guidebook says that there are no Alberg, but the new pointer speaks directly the opposite. And we suddenly find ourselves in the very center of stormy life. The squeal of the drill, the knock of a hammer, scurrying people - this Alberge clearly opened two hours ago. The girl’s money is taken by a girl for 12 years old, surprisingly similar to a man running with a hammer on the second floor, apparently his daughter.
Ten minutes later, we are already calling for dinner, without even asking if we want to eat. A venerable woman for 55 years takes plates with meat and potatoes, a bun of bread, then a salad, then ice cream. We manage to drink Polupvshvyna of wine when the owner brings us home fluke. The legs are swinging from one smell, but the pitch unleats the tongue. It turns out that this shelter for pilgrims was opened by a family of pamplona. They bought this house for a long time, but could not think of his appointment. The owner of Alberge interferes with the English words and the native language of the gestures: “And now that when the wife has retired, we thought whether Alberge was opened here. I myself went to Kamino, she went. Feeding pilgrims is a good deed. Anyway, the wife loves to cook. By the way, how do you like my liquor? Getting, yes? "
It is not easy to organize private Alberge: it is necessary to obtain permission from the municipality, church, local religious communities. The house with a dozen times will be checked: is soft beds enough; Is there enough shells for guests; Does the hood in the kitchen work? Private traders are strictly treated, this business does not bring much money. But - a sea of pleasure. 
April 17. Belorado
The guide promised us a big city. In two weeks of paths, we learned to count the cities houses. If residents, according to the reference book, are more than 2000, then there are at least five hundred houses. And this is a really big city. As many as 2100 people live in Belorado. Locals painted the walls along the path of cheerful graffiti. One of the drawings: a peppy pilgrim with a staff confidently walks into a bright distance, on his head a cap and headphones, on his face - serenity. The paved road leads him to the cathedral, apparently, St. James.
In two weeks, all cities merged into one. But this distance seemed special: the ruins of the old bell tower, abandoned houses and someone’s garden between ruins.
Alas, our joy was fleeting: after five minutes we saw a bar, followed by another, more and more, then shops, restaurants and even a pointer to a private museum appeared. Another minute, and we are in the very center - on the area flooded by the sun, along the perimeter of which cafes closed into the siesta are scattered. The church of yellow brick is locked. Absolute emptiness. The deceptive feeling of an abandoned city. Only an hour will pass - and everything will change. The first to appear boys - about ten years old, with flocks, with a ball. They beat them along the surrounding walls and doors. I am anxiously waiting for the ball to breathe the nearest window. It seems that it only worries me: not a single shout or comments. Either football is held in high esteem, or the guys are intact.
Two hours later, do not push through the square. Today is the great Thursday, and the whole city first went to Mass, and now he bites the seeds in anticipation of a festive procession. Every third in the square is a child. Every third - lugs on the ball. The doors of the church open, priests appear on the threshold, and the platform with the statue of the Virgin Mary slowly moves in front of them. Together with them, parishioners or members of the local religious fraternity. According to the Spanish tradition, they are dressed in long purple vestments and high pointed caps with slots for the eyes. It is believed that in this way the repentant sinner remains unrecognizable. The procession in the light of candles and the battle of drums remind of the times of the Inquisition. The procession, accompanied by a local orchestra, slowly moves from the church to the church. We have already seen a similar rite in Logrono. There, due to the severity of the platform with the sculpture of Christ, twenty-four healthy priests stopped every twenty meters. In Belorado, they solved the problem, putting the platform on the wheels. "
One of the repenting candles go out, he sticks his hand under the tunic, does not find anything, but someone from the crowd holds out his lighter
“Following the procession, there is a city. Chatting about his own, stumbling about the scurrying boys, looking into the bars to intercept the glass of wine. One of the repenting sinners goes out of the candle, he sticks his hand under the tunic (there are worn jeans), but someone from the crowd holds out his lighter. All their own. Today they go in the inquisitorial cap, and tomorrow in the morning in the nearest bar them in the nearest bar. - Preparing for neighbors in the front row - honorary townships, at the end, the youths, spinning a feeling of solemnity. Warm up the solemn marches of the great Thursday. 
April 18. Tosantos - Atapuerka
We met Natasha almost by accident. They caught up with another young lady on the forest path. Her smile on our cheerful “Ola” - so in Spain the locals and pilgrims greet each other - told us that Russian speech is much closer to her. Natasha was slightly over 30, she lives in Moscow, a successful business was promoted with her husband, they gave birth to two daughters, everything is (apartment, cottage, car), they were everywhere, including the Mauritius, and they tortured their question: what's next? In two weeks of the journey, Natasha had not yet found an answer. There are three more ahead. She smokes at every halt, hardly takes her breath after the next rise, but there is so much energy of life in movements that I have no doubt: if the answers lie on Mauritius, she will reach there.
At a halt we sit down to a cheerful couple of the French. Both laughs without stopping and divide a huge baguette among themselves. Pierre and Simon. She does not speak English, because Pierre, the conspiratorial winks and reports that he was going to marry her. But for starters, I decided to check the feelings. So he led his girlfriend on a hike. Only if we started from the Franco-Spanish border, then they ... from Estonia! On the way for the third month.
April 20. Burgos - Tardahos
Rain, Sunday, Easter, absolutely everything is closed in the city. Pilgrims are similar to multi -colored camels: in local fashion, raincoats are put on over a backpack. I also turn into a hunchbacked creature to the waist in clay and dirt. Local newspapers promise three more days of rain.
Our path lies through the plateau. A huge plain, the edges of which are lost in overhanging clouds. Once again I catch myself thinking that it cannot be Spain. This is England, probably, Duvr. I feel the smell of the pier, and even hear the ringing of a ship bell ... But no, this is another group of cyclists tells them to free their way. In these parts, Camino on bicycles is very popular: two belt bags on the rear wheel and a helmet on the head. They travel the path in a couple of weeks, the only difficulty - not every Alberg will be allowed with a bicycle. And if they are allowed, then according to the residual principle. Athletes are treated here with a slight neglect ...
However, these guys can only sympathize. If we are knee -deep in the mud, then they are a crown. Judging by the costumes and expressions of faces, these guys fell more than once. Movement, still movement ... all. Bicycle chains were clogged with mud, between the knitting needles - clips of clay, then young people will have to walk. "
“Here you can open up to the world or open the world, and when you have time to read the“ game of thrones ”in ordinary life? But you still have to live in a different reality "
“After a few hours we all drink tea in Alberg. This is the first charitable shelter on our way. It is held by a local religious community. Tea is poured by the AGOT-a girl of 28 years old from Bilbao. She works at the factory, and here on a voluntary basis. She is briskly dangling in four languages, therefore we know that cyclists are the Spaniards. Kamino. The weekend is traveling to the train in Madrid. ru Or to open the world, but you still have to live in a different reality, - she thoughtfully sorting out bags of tea, then raises her eyes at us - however, do not listen to me, I have been a volunteer for the fourth time, and when you have time to read the “game of thrones” in ordinary life?
Outside the window - rain, they say, will be pouring three more days. Tomorrow at eight in the morning we will leave for him. To Santiago de Compostel another 569 kilometers.