I stopped in Burgos for 2 nights to rest, re-group, and take some alone-time. I was tempted to join the public albergue in the centre of the city but after two very noisy nights on the camino trail, I needed some quiet time by myself. I picked out one of the private albergues recommended in Brierley’s guide-book (finally, I actually read it!) and perched myself in a quiet room near the grounds of the university.
For the handsome price of €35 per night, this is what I received:
It had a small private bathroom too, so I didn’t need to stand in line with 20 other people waiting for my turn in the showers – what bliss!
The room was a calm oasis after days of noise and tension. I lay on my bed (with sheets!) – and listened to the sounds of birds chirping in the ivy and flowers outside my window. It was a welcome change from the sound of washing machines and chatter.
Here, I had enough steady wi-fi to make calls home to Handsome Husband who was holding the fort without me.
Here, I slept solidly for hours on end.
Here, I was glad to take a break from walking and carrying my backpack, and give my feet a break.
I slept, I ate, I relished the quiet.
Downtown, I browsed and wandered through the city, famous for its gothic cathedral. I ate alone, I sent postcards home, and contrary to what Brierley suggested, I welcomed the sights and sounds of the city. It wasn’t a shock to my system at all. Surprisingly, it was a source of revival.
In the city, I could come and go as I pleased. I could reclaim my independence. I could be anonymous for a day, while I browsed through tourist shops and city sights. Oddly enough, the city gave me a chance to rest, and I grabbed it with both hands.
And with 532km still to go, I would need all the rest I could get.
What did Burgos mean to you?