MAGACELA – MEDELLÍN July 15
This stretch offers good infrastructure. (Infrastructure on the
Camino de Santiago means: Cafés.) La Haba, Don Benito and Medellín. But, since it was Monday, I didn’t know if I would be able to find breakfast in the morning. Luckily the roadside café in La Haba was open early when I arrived: pilgrims, take note.
In Don Benito a man stopped me in the middle of the sidewalk and grabbed my arm. A beggar? A lunatic?? No, an ex-pilgrim. My hiking outfit had given me away. The guy had walked many caminos himself, although not the Mozárabe, and was eager to hear about my experience. He was very fond of talking about his memories from the Primitivo, and I walked the Primitivo two years ago, so it was still vivid in my mind. Another obvious topic of conversation was the weather, as the summer had been cooler than usual in Spain, and certainly in the south. The guy told me I was lucky walking this year. People recognizing me as a pilgrim and wanting to have a chat has been common on other Caminos, for example last year on the Lana, but this was the first time it happened to me on the Mozárabe.
After leaving Don Benito, there is a bridge that you must share with cars swooshing by, and you can see the castle in Medellín from it. The road goes from the bridge in a straight line right into Medellín. But after the bridge the Camino veers to the left, a totally counter-intuitive turn as you could see Medellín in front of you and then turn your back on it. But just a few more meters, and there is another turn to the right that puts you in the right direction again. So the walk to Medellín is roughly 9 kms on a dirt road parallel to the highway. Corn fields eventually hide the cars from view. It is a pleasant walk all in all.
This stretch felt much shorter than the 9 kms indicated on the map. Walking straight towards a town for several kms is usually a slog, but I was there in no time. The corn grew higher around me the closer I got to Medellín, until the only thing I could make out was the castle on the top of the hill. Not in ruins, but quite well preserved, with Spanish and European flags waving in the wind. When I got even closer, I saw some people moving half-way up the hill. Next to a church I could just make out a semi-circular shape: probably the recently discovered Roman theatre in Medellín that Nice Lady in Magacela told me about.
Okay. Hostal Rio: a somewhat indifferent treatment à la A Ka La Sole (see my previous posts). I don’t mean to say they were rude or anything. But sometimes I feel like I’m moving on an assembly line. The food was horrible: the worst meal I have eaten since at least five Caminos. But I highly suspect this has got something to do with the fact that I chose the cheapest food on the menu: French fries with a strange cheese-and-bacon sauce. This time it
did come straight out of a can, I’m sure. You get what you pay for. Stupid Pilgrim! Oh, I think I have read on other blogs or on the Forum that the food is quite alright in this place, so once again this was surely my fault. I don’t remember the exact price of the room, but on the Mozárabe I never paid more than 23 euros in any hostal. (Correct me if I’m wrong, considering the places where I stayed? I don’t think I did). The Associations must have done an excellent job lowering the prices for pilgrims. For example, on the Lana, paying between 25 and 35 euros for the same standard is not unheard of.
In the evening I was torn between visiting the Roman theatre, beneath the castle, and watching the World Cup final between Croatia and France in the bar. Since the World Cup wasn’t located half-way up a mountain, I stayed inside for the more horizontal alternative… Ok, I had seen previously that day that the excavations didn’t seem to be that far up the hill. I am aware that I easily could have gone there. Sorry, Nice Lady! But hey, football is also a cultural heritage, right? And it was cool being part of the feisty clientèle in the bar: from young parents with loads of new-born babies, to the grandparents and their chatty friends. Everyone cheered and rooted for France. Wow, Grandma can really shout if she wants to!
France won, and everyone was happy with the result. It was a nice evening. As for Roman theatres, I had promised myself I wouldn’t miss out on the one in Mérida. I would get there in two days. I know of some hardy pilgrims who can make it to Mérida in one go. But I decided to stop in San Pedro de Mérida, and then do a very short, second stage to Mérida.
Alas, between me and San Pedro de Mérida there was a problem. The problem’s name was Yelbes. I must tell you about it… in my next post!
Hang on!
/BP