Camino Day 23: Mansilla de las Mulas – León (01/04/17)

After days of journeying through the serene emptiness and isolation of the Meseta, the day’s walk represented quite an assault on the senses, as most of the 18.6km involved walking beside busy roads and through the industrial estates and ugly urban sprawl of León. Nevertheless, I like this aspect of the Camino – that one day you can be walking through a vineyard or over a mountain and the next day through an urban environment. I like the variety of such step changes, and even though I find much of the modern suburban sprawl surrounding most modern cities ugly and dirty, there is still much that is interesting to observe – ordinary people going around their business, some ancient chapel amidst contemporary offices, hinting at an interesting past or some signs of wildlife, tenaciously hanging on amidst the concrete jungle.

This would be our last day walking with Matthew and Heather as although we planned to have the next day off to do some sightseeing together in León, they would then be heading home, whilst David and I planned to keep walking and maybe get beyond Astorga. Matthew and Heather, not being fans of city life, had been planning to get the bus from Mansilla into León, but in the end, in credit to them, they decided to walk on with David and I into the city. This was all the more impressive as Heather’s feet were by now very sore and I had to do some remedial repair work on them in the albergue before we set off as I had been doing each morning.

We breakfasted in the albergue café and I noted as we were putting on our boots that there were quite a few retired British walkers who were also setting out but had stacked their bags in the hallway with labels for the portage shuttle bus so that they would be carried on ahead to their next albergue.

Rather than walking by the most direct route through town, we walked round the outside of the town walls, following their western and southern circuit, so I could see the remaining sections that we hadn’t examined the previous night. In this area of town there seemed to be more residential properties, allotments and orchards and the southern wall was more broken down and pierced by buildings, although there were still some fine surviving towers.

We then came around by the rio Esla section once more and climbed up onto the road bridge and set off along the senda beside the N-601. Once again, a very cold blew as we walked. A flat-topped hill over to our right marked the location of the ancient hilltop fortress of Lancia where the Asturians had made their final stand against the Romans. The archaeological site seems to have somewhat compromised by the building of a new motorway at the foot of the hill and I was reminded of the destruction of Carrickmines Castle outside Dublin when the M50 was extended.

By the time we reached the village of Villarmoros we were ready for second breakfast and so we diverted into the village looking for a café; nothing could be found but suddenly, whilst I was examining the map in my guidebook, I tripped over the pavement and came close to a very nasty fall. I nearly fell headlong onto the road, but somehow managed to keep running forward, despite the weight of my rucksack pressing down on me, and eventually managed to chase my centre of gravity and get myself upright again. It was a very close shave as I think I would have done myself an injury if I had hit the deck!

A little further on however, we did find a good second breakfast at the Casa Blanca hotel and then crossed the rio Porma on the new pedestrian bridge beside the enormous 20-arch Puente Ingente. The sheer size of the bridge and the number of arches suggested to me that on occasion at least, the rio Porma must flood in a very serious way!

Matthew & David and the Puente Ingente

After the bridge, we crossed the main road and had some light relief from traffic, as we struck out across some scrubby fields and passed under the new motorway on a graffiti decorated underpass which Matthew inexplicably felt would make a good place to stop for a snack. This was vetoed by the rest of us. Apart from the fact that it was in the shade, the remaining three of us felt that the location had little to recommend it as a dining location 😉

Ascending Alto de Portillo

The outlying suburbs of Arcahueja and Valdelafuente that we now passed through also had little to recommend them and seemed to mainly consist of non-descript shops, car garages, small industrial units, and bathroom fittings showrooms, but what else can I expect as I approach any modern city?

Inane Camino signs approaching Leon

We made our way slowly uphill towards the Alto de Portillo over the AP-71 motorway on a pedestrian bridge and then down into León itself, entering the suburb of Puente Castro, stopping briefly to watch a local religious confraternity preparing a float for a religious parade the next day which would mark Passion Sunday or the fifth Sunday of Lent.

Puente Castro

Finally, crossing the rio Torio we entered León proper and made our way through a modern section of the city centre, along wide boulevards and past apartments and offices, until we reached Plaza Santa Ana, where passed through the medieval city walls at Puerta Moneda and checked ourselves into the Benedictine Convent at Plaza Santa Maria.

Leon City Walls

The albergue in the convent was large and spartan with several large dormitories and although perfectly acceptable, I felt there could have been more numerous bathroom facilities, given the number of beds. I am not sure I would have liked to stay there in the busiest Summer months as I would say it could feel rather crowded, as it was, not all the dormitories were yet open. It also also turned out to be extremely hot in the dormitory during the night.

Gaudi's Casa Botines

As with all religious albergues that I have experienced, it was well run with no nonsense allowed; which I like! The Hospitalero showed me to my bunk bed after I had signed in and although I was hoping for a bottom bunk (much preferred for nocturnal toilet visits!), she pointed to a top bunk and I meekly accepted, as I feel it is good for the soul to accept gratefully what is given and try and be humble when possible, as this is in the spirit of the Camino. The next pilgrim was a young man who also had a top bunk pointed out to him “I would like this one here instead” he said, pointing at a bottom bunk. “No, this is your bed here!” replied the hospitalero, fixing him with a steely gaze. He meekly accepted. Lesson learned!

Leon Cathedral

We were surprised to see the two weed-smoking Italian guys that we had followed out of Frómista. Both were snoring away after their day’s walking and Matthew was designated a bunk bed above one of them, which was not entirely to his liking given the pungent aroma! A large Danish pilgrim in his early sixties was in the bunk bed next to me and calling attention to the Italians, started complaining vociferously about the strong smell in the room. This was ironic as he himself had a very strong smell of body odour. He then proceeded to explain to me how he was not walking the Camino like me! He was not rushing along the Camino as fast as possible like I was – oh no! By comparison, he was taking his time, stopping to enjoy the sights and sounds along the way. I politely tried to explain that this was exactly what I was doing myself, but it was to no avail – the lecture about how I needed to slow down continued for quite some time, clearly convinced as he was that I was galloping along the Camino at breakneck speed!

Some Irish cyclists from Dublin and Donegal then arrived. Later, I got chatting to one of them and they were starting at León and cycling to Santiago. The volume in the dormitory definitely rose when they arrived – the other nationalities had been quietly going around their business in a sedate manner, but once the Irish delegation had moved in and begun their banter, the craic from that quarter of the room was mighty!

Later in the afternoon there was time for us to stroll around the city centre. We had a quick look at the city walls near the convent – so like their counterparts at Mansilla. We then walked up to Plaza San Marcelo where we examined Gaudi’s Casa Botines, had coffee and cakes in a beautiful traditional cafe nearby and then wandered up to the Cathedral. The city was vibrant with people strolling around on the late Saturday afternoon sunshine; couples holding hands, friends stopping to chat; families out enjoying themselves. The atmosphere was very appealing.

It was also coming up to Easter and so many of the shop windows were decorated with Holy Week themes and we stopped to enjoy some of them. One of the big features of Easter in Spain are the religious processions organised by confraternities which dress up in different coloured hooded outfits to carry the elaborate often full-size religious scenes and holy statues. The Spanish are well used to these outfits and the idea of them I suppose, is to emphasize penitential anonymity, however to other nationalities the confraternity outfits do look very sinster and strange and well…very Ku Klux Klan! Our favourite window display was in a pharmacy, just down from the cathedral, where model confraternity characters were carrying a tableau of the Last Supper made from a medication box and with tablets featuring as the bread!

We returned to the convent in time to hear the nuns sing Vespers. There were only about twelve nuns and one who spoke English came over and greeted us, giving us service sheets with the psalms to be sung in Spanish translated into English. There were only a handful of us in the congregation, but it was quite beautiful and I was surprised when David and Heather both said they had enjoyed it as I didn’t think it would be their kind of thing.

Part of the convent had been turned into a nice hotel and we rounded off the evening with a pilgrim menu in the rather fancy dining room. I rang Liz on WhatsApp afterwards, but the call turned out to be fairly brief as I soon got accosted by a drunk in the convent courtyard and had to retreat back inside the albergue for safety and this caused him to go off and annoy some German pilgrims instead.