Day 12: Atapuerca to Burgos 20km

Atapuerca to Burgos, 20km. My last day of my camino stage starts with a dull, throbbing, itchy awakening from slumber. Did I get sunburned yesterday evening? I thought I stayed out of the evening light. After a while of half dreamed unusual sensations, I feel my forehead, and the contours are… Unusual. My first thoughts are delusional: did I get bitten by some flies? Did the open window let in some particularly aggressive mosquito? I close it. It slowly dawns on me in my groggy, half awakened state. I head to the bathroom and see that my brow has swollen to quasi-Merrickian proportions. Atapuerca is famous for it’s discovery of early hominid remains from 900,000 years ago. Maybe this site of such ancient ancestry is trying to pull me back through the millennia and reform my body like it was clay. I don’t consent! I’m now awake enough to realise that I was right about the bed bugs.

I proceed back to my bed. It’s 3am. What do I do now? I can’t sleep there. I grab my torch from my bag and proceed to check the area of the bed where my head was. I see one of the creatures from yesterday! Somewhat swollen, and a deep crimson colour. I use my nail to crush this devilish beast. I find two more, they are also dispatched, one tries to escape into a crevice in my bed, but is too sluggish and bloated to escape my angry digit. I move my mattress on the floor, but can’t escape the fact that I’m infected!

I lie for some minutes to try and sleep some. I’m too unsettled and stressed. My arm is itchy, but probably not bitten. My left lymph node under my arm is aching, so I lie on my back. I consider waking my roommate, but it’s still so early. After a while of lying awake, I hear her scratching and decide to wake her. She springs into action, giving me a dose of antihistamines. We bag our shit up and get out of the infected zone, others are awakening at this point. My roommate makes me a black tea to wake me up but it’s a bit too strong for my empty stomach and I’m on the toilet vomiting it up 10 minutes later. We wake our other walking mate somewhat later and slowly, we get ourselves out on the road towards my final destination, Burgos.

Our walk to Burgos is quiet and uneventful, I’m boosted by my companions. Time shoots by as we joke about our Frenchman’s Black Toe religion he wants to create. He seemingly recovered from having a very nasty looking black toenail on his big toe. It was gross, then it got better. Among other things, a motto was invented “In the name of the goose, the shark and the holy doodoo”. Don’t ask. We watch the sun come up from the hills above the town we just left. It’s beautiful, I can hardly feel my throbbing head.

Eventually, my fairly constant walking buddy catches us up from the previous town at a rest stop. We’re now four. Burgos is visible from a hill, though two hours off. As we near the town, we catch a Frenchman walking by another rest stop. Five now. We walk down to the long river into the city together, meeting two Spanish ladies along the way, now seven of us. Our large group suddenly splits as we have to separate. We say some rushed goodbyes and I’m on my way. Camino is like this, dipping in and out of familiar faces for a short while, or a day, saying goodbye, then seeing those faces again an hour, a day or a week later. I’m leaving the trail now, but certainly don’t think it’ll be the last time I see these faces.

A quick lunch and some more goodbyes later and I get on the bus to Bilbao. I meet another Spanish pilgrim who I said hello to the day before in Atapuerca. Unusually for me, I sleep on the bus to Bilbao. I’m so tired after 4 hours sleep. The Spanish pilgrim shows me the ropes on the metro, helping me arrive to my final destination for the day.

In the hotel I wash and hot dry almost everything in an attempt to kill any biting stowaways.

Bilbao is beautiful, but it feels a bit empty not knowing folks here. I see pictures on the group chat from the evening, it makes me a little sad so I turn it off as I walk around the city alone. Later I’m joined by my roommate at the hostel, we have pinchos and have a good chat. She is walking the Camino del Norte, I try to offer some tips, but have a feeling she may have preferred not to hear about the bed bugs.

On the way earlier today, the sardonic Frenchman says the bugs were God’s way of telling me not to leave the Camino. His toenail apparently fell off the following day, so he decides that his religion is to be cancelled. My roommate from the previous day says the cliche that the Camino is more about the people you meet than the journey is spot on. I’m inclined to agree. Life is about people and mine is richer for having walked these last twelve days, I hope they will continue to enrich my life for many more to come.

Back at the hostel, I sleep for 10 hours on a great mattress in an air conditioned room and awake quite refreshed. This is more sleep than I’ve had the entire trip, though until yesterday, I never felt truly tired, more invigorated and alive with the prospect of a new dawn and more miles to walk through.

Fin.