On the morning that we walked into Burgos, we slept a little later. Of course, “a little later” in this context, meant hit-the-trail around 8:00, as opposed to 6:00. It was only a 10-kilometer hoof to the city, and we knew that even with a late start we would arrive before noon. The Spanish seemed generally unfamiliar with the sunrise side of the day so it made little sense to yalla-yalla, rush-rush.
This “Wild Carrot” or “Queen Anne’s Lace” (Daucus carota) offered us a morning welcome.
Bob and I had several goals for our Burgos visit. Among them was to address our need for cash. I was living off of tips I carried from guiding in Israel. These tips consisted of smallish bills in dollars or shekels, unwelcome currencies on the trail. Even the banks had refused to exchange with me. I hoped for a different outcome in a big city. I needed Euros badly.
A second goal was to find a comfortable place to sleep. After a series of hostel overnights, we were ready for real beds with real sheets in a real quiet room.
Finally, we hoped to visit two sites: the Museo de la Evolución Humana (“Museum of Human Evolution”) and the Santa Iglesia Basílica Catedral Metropolitana de Santa María de Burgos (or more simply, the Cathedral of Saint Mary of Burgos). The museum housed many important fossil finds linked to the excavations at Atapuerca; the cathedral offered a comprehensive display of Gothic art and architecture.
Sites along the way. Image courtesy of Google Maps.
So we drank a little more coffee, scanned the guidebooks, and left Cardeñuela Riopico a little later. We looped around the airport and entered Burgos from the east.
Understand that Burgos is a large, long, and skinny place, concentrated on the banks of a river. The río Arlanzón cuts through the region from east to west. The east end (where we entered the city) was a “grey corridor,” indicative of industrial power. Here, cars and car parts and metals and chemicals and agri-foods are produced. We kept an eye out for uneven sidewalks, searched for Camino trail blazes, inhaled the fumes of diesel trucks, and occasionally dodged a mad driver.
Beyond the “grey corridor” we reached the río Arlanzón. Here, the way wound through a green corridor of trees and parks. It was a different universe.
The Burgos cathedral was hard to miss.
Achieving the historic district successfully, we consulted the guidebook and picked out the Hostal Manjón. It was a bit pricy (and rather dated) but perfectly located for food and access to both the museum and the cathedral. It would serve us well.
Too early to check-in, we left our packs with the desk and went directly to the cathedral.
No map was necessary. Not since leaving France (and the Cathédrale Sainte-Marie de Bayonne, to be exact), had we experienced anything like the Cathedral of Saint Mary of Burgos. It was stunning. So stunning, in fact, that it will require a post of its own (next week, in sha’Allah).
A preview of things to come.
Following our visit to the cathedral, we snacked, exchanged money (Yes, finally!), and returned to the Manjón where we had left our bags. We checked in and took an afternoon siesta.
Refreshed we returned to tourist mode and took in the Museo de la Evolución Humana (“Museum of Human Evolution”). It, too, was impressive, but in a different sort of way. The museum was as modern and sleek as the cathedral was ancient and ornate. It was also driven by a very different set of presumptions. Sadly, the wedge between faith and science is hammered by both sides of the divide.
After our museum visit, we found a Pakistani restaurant and dined on döner kebab (a meal born in the Turkish city of Bursa, for you foodies out there). It might just be me, but I don’t believe there is a finer meal on the planet. Satisfied, we retired to our private room for the evening. It was a busy day but we had met our goals.
And speaking of goals, we wound it down by watching Belgium battle France in the World Cup. The Belgians dominated France in time of possession but lost 0-1.
I dozed off to the sounds of the street musician on the sidewalk below. He was squeezing out a tune on an accordion.
Ah, Europe! Ah, Burgos!
¡Buen Camino!
Bob and I walked the Camino Francés in the summer of 2018. The stories posted here were reconstructed from my notes, photographs, and memories.