John Meyer Books
Baseball in My Shoe
As I stated last week, I’m not renowned for my predictions. And I get nervous when traveling friends ask me to predict their trips.
“How many days should I spend in Rome?” “How many towns in Costa Rica can I see if I only have a week?” “If I arrive in Paris on a Friday should I book a hotel in Nice on the Tuesday?”
(By the way, the answers to those questions are “4 full days and 4 full nights,” “3 towns in a week,” and “no, you should leave for Nice on the Wednesday because some places will be closed on Sundays and Monday, so you need that Tuesday to complete your Paris itinerary.”)
And as I stated last week, I was wrong about my Day 9 prediction from my previous Spanish Camino post.
https://www.johnmeyerbooks.com/walk-for-the-ages/
I didn’t stay in the town of San Juan de Ortega on Day 9 but rather in the village of Ages.
And as I stated last week, Ages was the town where I got hurt.
It changed the trip. And it changed my Camino.
It happened while I made the final approach into Ages. Walking up a hill, I felt something “pop” at the back of my left foot. And because I was focused on cleaning up and touring the town and eating dinner and drinking a significant amount of local wine… I forgot all about it until the next morning.
That morning, walking towards the city of Burgos, I started to feel a pain in my left ankle. Nothing massive – just an annoying little throb whenever I turned a corner or lumbered down a hill. By the time I reached Burgos, my left ankle had blown up to the size of a baseball!
I finally stopped in the first pharmacy that advertised “we speak English” on the door. Taking off my shoe and rolling down my sock, the pharmacist calmly nodded, “Yes. You did something to it. You should probably rest for a week. But since you are on the Camino, I know you will not do that…”
She gave me pain pills and a “magic” healing cream that soccer players use when they pull their muscles on the pitch. “And ice it tonight. And tomorrow morning. But don’t walk. You can sightsee. But do not walk on the Camino.”
For the next four days, I obeyed the pharmacist and stayed off the Camino. I toured around Burgos that night – with a major limp. Then took the bus to Leon – with a major limp. I even stayed an extra day to sightsee that city – but now the limp was minor. I then took the bus to Astorga to keep up with the Camino’s itinerary (I still had a due date in Santiago de Compostela and I couldn’t fall too far behind…). By then the limp was gone but I still didn’t trust my swollen ankle. Then I took another bus to Ponferrada to be sure.
Finally, four days after my injury, I began to walk the Camino again. So now my 500 km. trek across Spain was reduced to a 420 km. journey.
So this naturally effected my Day 16 prediction:
“…Well, it’s officially Day 16 of my trip, so if everything goes according to plan, I should be in the town of O Cebreiro.”
No, O Cebreiro was Day 15. I had to leap across some towns in order to stay on track.
On Day 16, I was actually further down the road in Triacastela.
From my notebook:
“Triacastela is literally two parallel streets. One with albergues and restaurants – the other with albergues and a few sad businesses… I asked the Irish woman, “What do you do in a town like this?” “Rest.”… Couldn’t wait to leave the worst town on the Camino. ‘Triacastela’ means three castles. Today, all those castles are gone. They should rename this town ‘Nocastela’…”
For more posts about my actual Camino journey, check out: