Friday December 5 th 2014 , Tardajos . 10.6 km.

Tonight I slept well, together with the cycling father and his son from Barcelona and the guappa historian, like many youngsters in the Nl. also without a job. No snoring. With a friendly hug the nice inn keeper said goodbye . Though Tosca had been allowed to sleep inside I preferred to leave her outside with her coat on, because she wants to jump on the bed and because she had a sheltered spot in the courtyard. Leon was allocated on a beautiful lawn again, tied to its 10 m. long rope. I got steal hard bread from the innkeeper to feed Leon, in addition to all that fresh, green grass. About Leons food I do not worry much any more. I don’t think he is loosing weight any more. Along the way, we often stop at places where the grass is lush. Then he eats like a wolf/horse?, probably devouring in half an hour as much as a wild horse in the prairy will eat in many hours . There is a variation of types of grass, young and old, on the roadside, often clover, dandelion, twigs and branches, and many of which I do not know the name. Some days he gets bread in addition, corn “spontaneously” flies from the field into Leons mouth and even an occasional potato completes his menu .
Today is a short walk. I’m in Tardajos, just before the great city of Burgos. Because it will be very stressful passing Burgos tomorrow, in the Saturday crowds, I decided to stop here in Tardajos, the last inn before Burgos, which is still open. Then one day rest, viz. Saturday, in Tardajos. Staying in Burgos with the animals seems very complicated to me. Not an option. I wait until Sunday morning and then I’ll pass Burgos early in the morning. Then there is, I hope, little traffic and everybody will still be sleeping because of the Dutch feast of Santaclaus  the evening before? Or is the saint ( whom the Dutch say that he is lives in Spain) then in the Netherlands? Can he be in Spain and in Holland at the same time? How is that possible? Unanswered Dutch childrens questions.                                                                                      My plan is to go untill Tardajos today. That’s only 10 or 11 km., the animals get bored of resting much. Sunday passing through Burgos will be a very long day. This afternoon and tomorrow, Saturday, I can refuel energy, organizing my backpacks, check my masses of pills ?? (just kidding), doing laundry, check the route on the Internet, call for a new inn for Sunday, answer emails, do some shopping etc. etc.
The day started chilly. Low hanging clouds in patches, fog floating right over the fields in the valleys, through which occasionally blurred the light of the sun. The same landscape as yesterday: sloping, only fields, often small-scale, often vast, deadly quiet, no traffic. Really mystic. Lonely, but beautiful, good for contemplation. You realize that you are alone in your own skin with your own feelings, just like everyone else. Step, step, together, in one and the same rythm often with Leon, who is in his own pack-saddle. His priorities do not seem so different from mine. First of all we must walk, but for Leon eating has a strong 2nd place. On and on. Continue or drown, we say in Dutch. Reminds me of a story that I heard of my horse riding teacher Jo: 1953, dikes broke: sea floods in Zeeland (Nl). Father and mother on the roof of their house. Father pointing mother on a hat, floating back and forth in the water. Mother says: that’s Grandpa. Yesterday he said, rain or sunshine, but tomorrow I’m going to mow the lawn. The same counts for me: whatever will happen, Sunday I’ll pass Burgos in Spain and  New Year we’ll be already in la douce France. How douce is questionable, because there seem to be much less inns. Tant pis (so what). I also think of the autogenous training of Schultze. He tought slalom skieërs to do the slalom in mind, so they already had a virtual exercise, before the real contest started.  From my wife Sonja, who did social studies, I learned this is something like a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you believe something strongly, it often turns out that way. So I do believe in it and it works. However, my pony has never heard of all those clever theories. Whether it succeeds? Qui sas, we’ll see. So I muse while walking.
And then I meet Portuguese Miguel. The first southerner who speaks English well. In about 2 hours you’ll come across two Dutch, he tells me. Say hello to them from me. I start saying hello to all blond people who might be Dutch , but in vain. Two hours later I met two pilgrims. Ah, Miguel, that was a nice guy, they said. I always asked everyone where they had slept, because then I learned that the inn was open anyway. Many albergues are closed, many people do not respond to my calls. Often my mobile has no clear connection, if any at all, and then going on to yet another village when it gets dark, with the risk that there everything is closed too, is the biggest frustration of this trip so far. By the way, I have not encountered Miguel .
Now I’m blogging in the inn of Tardajos. It seems like a luxury hotel. No guests, private room with private bathroom / wc, with both heating and hot water in the bathroom, a little stool, shower and a toilet for the disabled. This room they apparently thought necessary for me. That makes me think. Do I look that much in need for help?A young lady serving me in the restaurant. That’s the way it should be. Maybe I should ask her help even in the shower chair. I think she’s pregnant. I wanted to ask her, but she did not understand or may be didn’t want to understand. Never mind, I said, trying to get out of it. Because what a disgrace if she was not pregnant after all. Forget it, I said, but at the same time she also forgot the ordered coke. I didn’t remind her of it any more.
Wherever I am I always hear that they are talking about olanda, caballo (horse), perro (dog). My journey thus makes some impression. Positive or negative, that is the question, but that doesn’t bother me. Today, no pictures yet. Now I want to do the laundry, grocery shopping, bringing bread to the horse ( 5 min. walk from here) on a lawn next to a shed, where I first went to ask permission for tying Leon there. See you later. Sister in law Debby, in case you’re reading this, I don’t have your telefone number so I congratulate you this way with your ???? th birthday.

Albergue la Fabrica in Tardajos

A few hours later. For the moment being everything seems paletti ( o.k.). Good horse pasture, I gave the bread, the dog got his suit on. He has to stay outside here in the courtyard of this old watermill. But he has good food, lying on his bed … and my good room on the ground floor has a door to the courtyard where Tosca is. I asked the maid till how late she has to work. Till 10 or 10.30 in the evening. When she is gone I can get Tosca inside in my bedroom. Just watch out, because I believe that people, the maid? still are present somewhere in this mill’s restaurant. So the next night was fixed again for Tosca. In case they find out tomorrow, the worst thing they can do is throw me out. In that case, there is another hostal in the village  where I also went to inquire. I was welcome, though Tosca must stay outside , but that is not an issue. Remains a bit exciting.

Pretty soon I’ll get human company. In a little while a few real people will come and join me on my trip. Can we laugh again. The noise of that eternally watched TV! I hardly see what I write! Time for my first beer. I notice though that  here I can mentally reenforce. My clothes are in the laundry, even my coat, and because the village is 500 m. away , I cannot, without a coat, in this cold, go there to find a bar for wifi and beer and cosiness. A little later it turns out that looking for a bar is not necessary , because all kinds of people now hang out at the bar here and are sitting at tables that are constructed to drink at. And there is wifi here too. So I start to feel at home here.