Well I had a "blast" in Burgos the last couple of days, luxuriating in doing very little, staying in two nice hotels (I changed to save a bit of dough), and not wearing a backpack or shoes. I did walk the beautiful streets some, watching people and loving the buildings, and the high point was a visit to the cathedral. It's right up there with the great ones of Europe. Unlike many, whose ground plans tend to be based on the cross, the Burgos cathedral is decentralized and you wander through chapel after chapel in a seemingly haphazard order, all decorated opulently in a melange of styles by artists ranging from the medieval era to the 18th century, one as grand as the other.

After a couple of days off, I felt uncertain when I put on my shoes and pack this morning, but I quickly got into the rhythm. Leaving Burgos was so different from approaching it. On the way in you first walk alongside the airport on the outskirts of the city, then through several miles of urban grit, with factories, warehouses, car dealerships, repair shops, and heavy traffic, then a couple more miles through an attractive modern part of town, before finally coming to the glorious old section with its ancient buildings, some stone, and others stucco painted all sorts of pastel hues. On the way out you walk through a huge municipal park, beautifully maintained, then through some clean modern suburbs, past the University of Burgos, and much more abruptly, back to the natural environment. Not idyllic--there are power lines, occasional buildings, and nearby roads--but you're back out in the country.

My walk was only about seven miles today, but I'll add a couple more because my albergue is a ways off the Camino, and outside of town. I have the luxury to be able to walk short days. When I arranged this trip I gave myself loads of time to do the walk. For one, I wanted to savor it rather than swallow it whole, take pics, write, and not feel rushed. Also, I was concerned about my stamina and endurance. So many people are having to keep to demanding schedules, walking with injuries, and in some cases at least, enduring rather than enjoying it. I'm like the proverbial tortoise, plodding along, sometimes doing half stages per day, stopping when I need to, and hopefully I'll cross the finish line in one piece. My friend Rich told me on his Camino that he heard a phrase that roughly translates to "climb like an old man, arrive like a young man"; I've changed "climb" to "walk" and it's one of my mantras now.