Day 12: Atapuerca to Burgos. 18 km
Thanks to Scottish Alans cunning plan this was a (relatively easy) day. Just 18 km. So it was all the more galling to sit down for supper to realise that “I’m as hard as iron, me ” has developed a blister almost 2 weeks into the walk
But you know me. Not one to complain
I’m writing this while lying in a bath (sorry about that image now seared into your brain) in a hotel. Not just any hotel
A 4 star jobby opposite one of the gates to the incomparable Burgos Carhedral.
Well you need a bit if luxury every now and then. I have sheets as well. Sheets!!
So Burgos appeared on the horizon quite early on today and stayed there. No matter how quick or slow you walked it was always on the horizon
I walked for more than an hour alongside the security fence of Burgos “airport” In that time I saw not a single aeroplane.
The industrial suburbs went on for miles. And miles. Scrapyard followed by lorry park followed by squatters’ diss house followed by potentially rabid curs.
But I got there. Blindly following the yellow arrows that are always there to guide you. Through kids’ playgrounds churchyards and whatever else is in your way. Follow the arrows.
Anyway. I’m here. I spent 3 hours touring Burgos Cathedral and dear reader it’s the best churchy thing I’ve ever been in
Most churches in Spain are locked. When they’re not locked there is no light (you have to pay a Euro before they tun on the lights)
But Burgos Cathedral is bathed in light. It is so beautiful. The statues, the ceilings the intricate carvings in stone an alabaster. I stood under its main cupola like some slack jawed local
And it is the burial place of El Cid. He may sound like some bloke down the pub who’s invented a nickname after a week in Benidorm but here they venerate him
An 11th century warload revered for fighting the Moors, Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar or El Cid (the chief or leader) was in fact a ruthless mercenary who kicked the crap out of anyone who got in his way and was not above an alliance with said Moors if it suited him
You may recall the film starting Charlton Heston and Sophia Loren. Like most historical biopics it’s nonsense (braveheart anyone?)
But the bit at the end where his dead body is strapped to his horse Babieca and sent out to klfight the gullible Moors is actually true.
I shall attach a modern representation if his likeness.
So go to BurgosCathedral and see the tombs if the Kings and Queens if Castille. And old psychos resting place.
Must sleep but tomorrow tales of bonkers weddings….and the infamous Meseta.