After the best sleep so far, and an excellent breakfast at the albergue, I walked out past the solid, squat, unpretentious church at the centre of town. The interior too, I thought, would be plain and simple, without gold embellishment. The church at El Carrascalego, three kilometres back, now commandeered by the stork, was similar in style. Were they fortifications as well? Did they reflect the character of the people who had built them?
After a couple of kilometres along the highway, the path led into the Parque Natural de Cornalvo. This continued for a good 15 kilometres.
On one side, the river; on the other, oaks and olives. Cattle grazing on a gentle slope with rocky outcrops and some huge boulders. Along the path the rock sage white rose, already attracting the bees.
An odd music: the trilling of the birds, the snarling of a chainsaw, the clanging of the cowbells, and the faraway drone of the traffic on the highway. Perhaps the inspiration for a modern composition: a piece for piccolo, trombone, tympany and bagpipe.
The Camino is marked by yellow arrows, but sometimes another municipality or organization decides to put in a more permanent indication. This might simply be the shell, the coquille Saint-Jacques, or it might be something more elaborate.
The way through the park was marked by large cubes, sometimes of marble, sometimes of granite, and sometimes of wood. These were provided by the municipality, and indicated the way with a strange etching on the top of a yellow line passing under an arch. A representation of Santiago perhaps? The arrows on the trees were easier to follow.
The municipality's markings were extravagant enough, but as well as these, every few hundred yards were polished granite blocks mounted on concrete embedded in the ground. The letters VP presumably stood for Via de la Plata. These were placed on either side every few hundred yards, not always by the path, but sometimes at the edge of the right of way, ten yards from the road and totally obscured by shrubs. I would guess that each one cost around 1,000€ to make and mount and embed in the ground. There must have been at least a hundred in the park. This project was funded by the European Community.
When money is spent in this way on the Camino, most helpful to pilgrims is the provision of a path just off the road where it is necessary to walk along the highway. Some municipalities have done this for the safety of those of us on foot walking against the traffic. And to mark the way? Just send out a fellow with a can of yellow paint and a brush.
What began as a pleasant stroll turned into a long trudge, as the park extended forever. Finally, I reached a road and was deceived by large yellow arrows and an albergue sign into taking a detour, and I added a couple of of extra kilometres to my day before arriving at the monastery where I wanted to stay, run by the order, Esclavos de Maria y de Los Pobres.
We were taken on a tour of the monastery by Brother Daniel, a noviciate, originally from Massachusetts. This is not a contemplative order. These brothers run an old people's home for men with physical or mental handicaps, and they must get their hands dirty quite literally.
The meal was very simple fare, befitting an order that devoted its resources to the poor. No wine, but soup and a very English dish, egg and chips, probably from their own chooks and their own spuds.
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