Day 46 - Leon to Bercianos- August 30

Day 46 - Leon to Bercianos-  August 30

Woke up this morning, did my morning stretches, and discovered a note under my door. I figured it was one of those papers they slip under your door in the states telling you how much you owe and reminding you that check out time is noon. But, it wasn't that. It was a note saying Sally would be at breakfast at 8am. The problem being that it was at that moment about 8:45am and I hadn't showered, dressed or anything. So I thought oh well another missed opportunity. I'm not much fun before I've had coffee and it has had a chance to kick in. 

I wasn't always like this. A few years ago I was traveling with my youngest daughter, Leea, and she nick named me Sparky, because I would pop out of bed wide awake and raring to go. Leea isn't much fun to be around for about two hours after she gets up. She isn't crabby, she just can't talk. I' getting more and more like that. It's like everything is fuzzy and my mouth can't coordinate to communicate. Heaven help me if I wake up with an emergency 

So I eventually got showered and went down for breakfast about 9 or 9:30am  Sally was still there. Either she likes leisurely breakfasts too or she overslept. Either way I got to meet her. She said I could join her and her friend, but they had clearly finished breakfast and my brain and mouth were still in shit down mode. 

After breakfast I wandered around looking at stuff, then checked out, and headed for the train station. It's a nice short walk along the river. I got on the train, got to Sahagún, looked for a cab. None. There's a train station but no one is in it, the ticket window is closed. It's 1:30 in Spain. I really don't want to walk from Sahagún to Betcianos. Mu pack is heavy because I have some extra stuff in it for use while I'm in Bercianos. And I have mo water in my pack, because I wasn't planning to walk. O mean there's always taxi's at train stations, right. Not on Sahagún. The bar is open. I asked the woman if there is a cab nearby. She says no, you have to call them. 

So I ask her where the Camino is and she points. I go in that direction. I see an arrow pointing to the Tourist Information. Well I'm not exactly a tourist, but I need some information. Turns out the tourist information doubles as an albergue. I get the phone numbers and the first one I call says he'll be there in two minutes, and he is. He takes to Bercianos for 10€, what a deal. 

I get to the albergue and jump right into being a hospitalera in training. My trainers who have been doing the job for two weeks, Javier (Spanish) and Elena (Italian) are great. The best role models. I learned how to make Caldo Gallego. 

Getting dinner ready was little unnerving. Javier called me to the supply room and instructed me on dispensing wine from the box to the bottles. Those who know me well know my connection with boxes of wine. Of course never moved it from box to bottle to glass. Usually it was just box to glass, and if I didn't have a glass, well . . .

Anyway by the time this job was finished there was wine on the floor and all over mine hands. I have not been that intimate with alcohol for more than twenty nine years. I went and washed my hands immediately with disinfectant. A little later a couple of the young female peregrinas reminded me how grateful that wine was in the bottles and not in me. 

And I learned how to let pilgrims help. It was fantastic. After dinner we went and watched the sunset, then had a moment of reflection, before everyone trotted off to bed. Then we got the stuff ready for breakfast. 

Now it's time to call it a day. Good night sweet friends.