· James Torr · Personal  · 2 min read

My 'rest' day involves only a 13 km walk to the next town to catch the 921 bus to Leon. I wake at 4am, and due to the nighttime chorus, only drift for an hour. I walk in the dark, mostly with the torch off, when the path is wide and straight. It's exhilarating, being alone in the dark.

Day 17: Terradillos – Sahagún → bus to León 13 km.

My “rest” day involves only a 13 km walk to the next town to catch the 921 bus to Leon. I wake at 4am, and due to the nighttime chorus, only drift for an hour. I walk in the dark, mostly with the torch off, when the path is wide and straight. It’s exhilarating, being alone in the dark. My light, the sliver of moon, the lazy vehicles pushing through the night, my fellow travellers’ waving torches. My company is the sound of my boots crunching on the gravel, the wind in the trees, rain sputtering, stop-starting. As the sun rises, I’m nearing my target. The last hour I walk on a path by a brand new, but relatively traffic free road. At the bus stop, I see various Camino veterans waiting for their roadside assistance. I feel the need to justify my presence to them, and I’m met with mostly “you do it your way” responses.

I arrive in Leon. Once checked in to my comfortable hostel, I spend an hour enjoying the tapas culture of Leon. For €2-3 Euros, you can enjoy a caña (330ml beer serving), or glass of fine local wine, included in the price is the choice of several different tapas. I exploit this fully while I’m here, catching up on sleep in between rounds.

Friday night in Leon is still happening when I awake at five. Voices from the nearby bar areas float in through the open window. In an hour or two, the party goers disperse and the street cleaning vehicles arrive, they wash the night off the streets, ready for another day. I’ll be a long way off by then. My bus will take me forward, out of the city limits and past the last stretches of flat Meseta, into what I hope will be some glorious walking. Am I cheating? If there are no rules to break, then what does it matter?

What’s interesting, is that I’m dipping into another set of peregrinos. I’ve stepped out of the onward tide of backpacks, achy feet, dusty shoes, and skipped forward five days. I’ll dip back into this river, further on, and meet another group of veterans. This time, I’ll be walking with them until the end, at least that’s the plan.

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