 |
| Leaving Belorado |
We quickly passed through the
small modern suburbs of Belorado, crossed the rio Tirón on a pedestrian bridge and
onto the Camino track which runs raised above the N-120 along which we had come
by bus the previous day. The sun came out and illuminated a vibrant rainbow
against the dark sky and our early morning shadows lengthened in front of us.
Very soon over to our right,
lit up by the sunshine near Tosantos, small cliffs came into view. These
contain more hermit’s caves, like those below Belorado Castle and the 12th
Century hermitage of Our Lady of the Rock Ermita
de Nuestra Señora de la Peña, which apparently contains a Romanesque statue
of the Virgin which is venerated locally.
 |
| Ermita de Nuestra Señora de la Peña |
At Villambistia, we stopped in
the grounds of Iglesia San Roque for Morning Prayer; which the three of us did
sitting on a bench in the church grounds.
 |
| Doorway at San Roque |
Our reading from Psalms was from
Psalm 25: 6-10 and verse 10 struck us as highly appropriate for our first day
walking again on the Camino:
“the paths of the Lord are love and faithfulness to
those who keep his covenant and testimonies”
 |
| At San Roque |
Just after the church we saw a
sign to the right advertising a café and so we enthusiastically took the detour
as it was definitely time for Second breakfast and enjoyed chocolate caliente
and cakes!
 |
| Villambistia |
Beyond Villambistia the
expansive farmland continued and Matthew soon produced his binoculars to look
at Griffon Vultures soaring in the distance and soon several Red Kites were also
seen at closer quarters. Indeed Matthew’s inexhaustible enthusiasm each time we
saw Red Kites (and we saw plenty during our walk!) quickly became a source of
good natured banter between us as I pretended to yawn each time Matthew whipped
out his bins to look at another one and he in response made exaggeratedly bored
remarks about Romanesque baptismal fonts!
 |
| Fountain in Villambistia |
We crossed the N-120 at
Espinosa del Camino and about half a kilometre from Villafranca we descended a
small ridge and came to Ábside de San
Felices (San Felice’s Apse). The apse is all that remains of a 10th
Century Mozarabic monastery that was dedicated to San Millán’s mentor, San
Felices.
 |
| Matthew at Ábside de San Felices |
The remains are interesting because the structure still contains a
horseshoe arch influenced by Arabic architecture and has a small dome inside. I
also noted a reused inscribed stone built into the apse which seemed to part of
a Roman (or was it Visigothic?) gravestone? San Felices is also the reputed
burial place of Count Diego Rodríguez, who founded Burgos in A.D. 884 and whose
statue can be seen in the city in Plaza San Juan.
 |
| Interesting stone at San Felices |
Shortly after this, we
rejoined the N-120 and entered the town of Villafranca Montes de Oca. On the outskirts
as we crossed the rio Oca, we passed a group of of about a dozen Senior
Citizens filling numerous bulging carrier bags with the large amounts of
walnuts which they were collecting off the ground. As I like a bit of foraging
in the hedgerows back home for Sloe Gin and Blackberry Vodka, I was most
impressed!
 |
| Looking back at San Felices |
We found a small shop and
stocked up on picnic provisions as we knew that this was our last chance before
we climbed into the forests of the Montes de Oca. Next door was a bar (with a
friendly cat) so I bought a glass of Rioja and poured it into my empty water
bottle so that we would have wine for communion together when we did Midday
Prayer later.
 |
| Friendly Cat! |
Villafranca itself seemed
fairly unremarkable (although maybe we missed the interesting bits?) and
walking through it one could be forgiven for thinking that it is of relatively little
historical importance. However it actually has great historical and
ecclesiastical importance. According to tradition, when St. James came to
Hispania on his evangelistic missionary trip, he brought with him seven
Apostles, one of whom was San Indalecio. He was reputedly made a Bishop and
converted the Auca area to Christianity. 2.3 km from Villafranca is the remote Ermita de Nuestra Señora de Oca and
behind this is a medieval bridge Puente
Viejo which leads to a stone water tank, the Pozo de San Indalecio, where legend says that San Indalecio was
martyred. Each year on the Feast Day of San Indalecio (11th of June)
a local pilgrimage to the site takes place.
What is certain, is that
Villafranca was the site of the ancient episcopal see of ‘Auca’ (Oca). It’s
first recorded Bishop was Asterio, whose signature appears in A.D. 589 at the
Third Council of Toledo. Alfonso VI however moved the See to Burgos in 1075
which was a common practice in the period as kings sought to centre Episcopal
Sees in the centres of secular power, the Norman kings did the same in England.
In the medieval period the
town was an important stop on the Camino and had a pilgrim hospital as early as
the 9th century. The name ‘Villafranca’
shows that like many other towns on the Way of St. James, it was resettled
with Franks who arrived as pilgrims and then returned as artisans. The second
half of the name “de Oca” comes from
the Spanish for wild geese but is probably a corruption of the ancient name of Auca.
Taking a turn off the main
road and up a track by the church we quickly began a very hard climb up into
the forested Montes de Oca. This came
as a shock to the system as it was our first day of proper walking. As I have
explained previously, I am walking the Camino in stages of about one week or so
each, as I cannot afford to take the annual leave from work needed to walk the
entire Camino in one go. There are advantages and disadvantages to doing the
Camino this way. On the positive side of things it means that I have time to
really take the time to absorb all that the Camino has to offer and not feel
constrained to reach Santiago in a limited timeframe of a few weeks. On the
negative side however, each time my body is just getting used to increased
levels of fitness and settling into the rhythm of the Camino and the aches and
pains are beginning to subside, it is time to come home. As we climbed
breathlessly into the Montes de Oca, I was reminded of this once again!
 |
| View as we climbed the Montes de Oca |
The previous day Matt had
texted us to warn us that “the pine forest goes on and on” and that he found it
very tedious. The three of us however liked this stretch and enjoyed the
seclusion and wildness of the forest. We fell into an enjoyable rhythm of chatting
interspersed with periods of comfortable silence.
Although enjoyable to us, the
Montes de Oca were once considered to be one of the most feared stretches of
the Camino; a remote borderland place on the edge of Castille, full of dense
forest and undergrowth where bloodthirsty bandits lurked who would prey on
pilgrims and rob them. In keeping with this dangerous reputation the Book of Miracles in the famous Codex Calixtinus records 22 miracles in
this area.
Although the initial climb was
hard, it afforded expansive views back towards Belorado. We took a welcome break
at Fuente de Mojapán – Moisten Bread
Fountain where there was a shelter with a bench to sit in and eat a snack,
though not of stale bread needing softening like out medieval pilgrim forbears.
 |
| Monumento de los Caídos |
Eventually, we reached the stark
Monumento de los Caídos – Monument to
the Fallen. This is the site of two mass graves of about 160 combatants from
the Spanish Civil War who were buried here in 1936. The first grave site was
bleak enough with it’s concrete obelisk, concrete wall (with railing), small cross
and another concrete marker. But nearby we found the second mass grave site,
isolated amongst the trees and demarcated by a simple wooden fence and gate.
Somehow the isolated nature of this second site made the atrocities of the
Spanish Civil War seem much more real. Both mass graves had be excavated in the
1990’s by archaeologists and the bodies identified and returned to living
relatives.
 |
| David at the second mass grave |
The grave sites had be marked
out with wooden sleepers and white stones. Information boards explained how the
archaeologists had done their work and archaeological multi-coloured scaled diagrams
showed the jumbled positions of the skeletons when excavated. Nearby a
headstone listed the names of the dead. A pot plant left as a memorial, had blown
over in front of it. I have never seen a mass grave before.
I don’t know which
I found more disturbing; seeing the names of the dead in their long stark
columns, the vibrant colours of the mathematically measured skeleton diagrams
or the Fascist swastikas and graffiti that had been daubed everywhere showing
that undercurrents of pain and hatred still remain just below the surface for
some in modern Spain.
David and I stood a long time
in silence. I reflected on the appalling thing that had happened here in this
quiet forest not really that long ago; in the year that my grandparents had married
in Ireland these kinds of terrible atrocities were happening and were only a
foretaste of the many more mass graves that would disfigure Europe in the days
ahead as the dark cloud of World War II approached. Soberingly, they were also
just like the ones that had happened during the time of my own married life in
the former Yugoslavia. I silently lifted the pot plant and set it back in front
of the headstone; it was as the only mark of respect I could think of offering.
Nearby were a group of picnic
tables which seemed to me an incongruous site for lunch so near as they were to
the graves, but we were now fairly hungry so we ate lunch and then said Midday
Prayer together, before taking a little of the bread we had reserved and the
wine I had bought at Villafranca and sharing Communion.
 |
| Matthew and I |
Refreshed, we carefully
descended the very steep track down to the footbridge over the Peroja stream,
before ascending once more to reach the summit of our walk that day at 1,150M.
We carried on through a long stretch of pine and oak forest. Along the way we
found that the wide forest path was strewn with messages that other pilgrims
had written using stones. It was fun to read them. The possible monotony of the
forest also was also broken by a forest clearing where colourful totem pole sculptures
of pilgrims and goofy faces had been erected.
 |
| Messages in stones! |
Finally, the forest began to
break up into some open clearings and in the distance we could see the
buildings of San Juan de Ortega. It was a welcome sight; we were all getting
tired. However there was a little life in the old dog yet – Matthew is very competitive
and can’t resist a challenge, so when I saw the sign for San Juan in the
distance I deliberately started to running because I knew Matthew wouldn’t be
able to resist and have to go tearing past me to stop me saying that a forty
year old had beaten him to San Juan! It worked of course – Matthew soon raced
past whilst I chuckled and David, the only the mature member of our group, told
us off for risking injuring ourselves when our bodies were tired at the end of
a long walk!
Altogether the walk had taken
8 hours and 5 minutes.
 |
| David & Matthew powering towards San Juan |
 |
| San Juan at last! |
Altogether the walk had taken
8 hours and 5 minutes.
Nearby were a group of picnic
tables which seemed to me an incongruous site for lunch so near as they were to
the graves, but we were now fairly hungry so we ate lunch and then said Midday
Prayer together, before taking a little of the bread we had reserved and the
wine I had bought at Villafranca and sharing Communion.
No comments:
Post a Comment