Santo Domingo and His Chickens

10 April 2013

After the severe physical trail of yesterday, we were determined to take it easy, starting late and perhaps only going as far as Granon, or maybe Redecilla del Camino, some 11 km distant.

Before setting out, we explored the Cathedral. Santo Domingo himself is buried in the crypt, and I knelt there for a while, imploring the intercession of the saint for the success of my Camino.

The museum attached to the cathedral was wonderful. In particular, there´s a Flemish triptych of the Annunciation that I found both beautiful and moving.

The major pilgrim attraction, however, is undoubtedly the chickens. There are two of them in a gothic cage near the rear of the Cathedral.

The legend is quite interesting. In the interest of brevity, I will just quote the blurb on my map, which sums it up as

…the legend of the roast chicken that crowed a condemned man´s innocence.

Ever since, images of Santo Domingo have included a chicken or two. The whole time we were there, the rooster crowed every few minutes.

We said our tearful goodbyes to Patrick, who flies for home, and Petra, who is pressed for time and taking a bus to Burgos.

Just before 10 am, Eamon, Viola, and I set off into the still severe wind.

Somehow, we attacked the day with renewed energy, and we were in Granon almost before we knew it. We were feeling great, so we pressed on, passing a huge sign indicating that we had left La Rioja and had now entered the Burgos Province of Castile y Leon.

Almost immediately, the wind stopped.

We lunched on pinchos in Redecilla del Camino and decided that we were mighty and could walk to Belorado, a full day´s 23 km.

Needless to say, as soon as we left the village, the wind started up again.

The terrain was a series of bowl-shaped valleyes painted in brilliant green and set against a blazing blue sky. The contrast of the brilliant blues and greens was staggering, and sometimes it seemed as though we were the only people in the world.

Our spirits flagged by the time we got to the village of Villamajor del Rio, but there we passed by a group of Canadian pilgrims.

Huzzah! We were not the slowest pilgrims on the Camino!

The very thought gave us a renewedenergy against the wind, and we walked, rather than staggered, into the Albergue A Santiago in Belorado at about 4pm.