Saturday, June 11, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
We´re embarking on a slightly shorter walk today, so we´ve indulged in an extra half-hour of sleep. The road today was flat with a few rolling hills, but the walk itself was only 14 km - much less than some of our previous days! Even starting at 7:30, we crossed the medieval Furelos bridge into Melide before noon. Our albergue wasn´t even open yet, so the group took the opportunity to explore the surrounding area and refill on coffee.
Dr. Gyug treated us to a communal lunch of pulpo (octopus) and, after a brief siesta, we were off to tour the city. Melide is a 10th-century town built primarily around agriculture and tourism from the Camino. It started out as a somewhat smaller settlement, but in the early 14th century petitioned the then-archbishop for permission to construct fortifications and collect taxes, thereby securing legitimate defensible town status. All was well for almost two centuries, until the local protectors got into a power struggle with the new archbishop. Fighting and riots broke out and the walls around Melide were destroyed; the Church´s response to the uprising was that the town was forbidden from constructing any more fortresses.
It was a shame that the only vestige of the city´s earlier appearance was really in the bridge that greeted us when we entered Melide´s outskirts, but the stones from the original walls were used in constructing the convent of Sancti Spiritus, which we were able to see. Seeking further testaments of the area´s history, we visited the nearby Museo da Terra de Melide and encountered a host of archaeological and artistic treasures from Melide and its surrounding regions from throughout the centuries. Our last stop was the Capela de San Roque, which is the modern structure rebuilt from two medieval churches. The front portal is particularly compelling, being the granite original from the 10th/11th centuries.
A 34 km walk looms before us tomorrow, but it will be our last stop before Santiago! It´s hard to believe that we´re so close to our destination after all we´ve been through thus far, but we´re crossing our fingers for an amazing (and dry!) last couple of days.
Most of the group (with the exceptions of Dr. Gyug, Allison, and Helena) got a bit of a late start leaving Sarría, perhaps due to the generally gloomy weather this morning. A couple of hours into our walk we experienced our first, and hopefully last, taste of the infamous Galician rain. Nevertheless, this intrepid group of pilgrims pressed on, having prepared for this contingency psychologically and with plenty of raingear.
In the midst of the rain Peter and I passed a significant milestone. Or, more accurately, a kilometerstone. Specifically, the stone marker that designates that on is 100 kilometers from Santiago. Most of the stone distance markers have little stones stacked in cairns on top of them or some kind of graffiti, however this one was covered in jubilant, colorful writing in a dozen languages and was both covered and surrounded with stone cairns and tokens from peregrinos. Peter and I stopped to take a few photographs for posterity, and wound up walking the next stretch with an older French gentleman for whom we took a picture at the marker. He informed us during our conversation that he had been to New York twice before to run the marathon; once in 1999 and before that in 1989. Neither Peter nor I had the heart to tell him that he has been running marathons since the year we were born. Just another example of the sort of amazing and dedicated people one meets along the Road.
The biggest difference between today and the previous days (besides the rain) has been the increase in the number of people on the Camino. Sarría is a popular starting point since it is a big city that is the minimum distance from Santiago required to get the compostella. It is easy to pick out some of these newcomers; their clean clothes, jeans, sneakers, or lack of equipment are dead giveaways. In a way I found myself frustrated with some of them. I saw a young woman wearing what seemed to be a preschooler's backpack emblazoned with a Nike swoosh, a pair of brand new running shoes, and walking with two trekking poles. This was not the smelly, dedicated, beleaguered comrade I had come to know. Then it occurred to me, with some sense of shame, that starting from León I must have seemed like that kind of "inauthentic" pilgrim to that sixty-something French gentleman who walked all the way through Switzerland. Really, I felt kind of second-rate compared to all of those people we had encountered that started at Le Puy or St. Jean. Perhaps all that means is that I need to come back though. We´ll see.
Arriving in Portomarín today, the river basin that Dr. Gyug informed us is usually full was at a very low level. As a result we were able to see the old Roman bridge and the ruins of the old city of Portomarín as we crossed the Miño River into town. In the 1960's a dam was built that caused the water level of the river to rise. Franco, wanting to preserve the town, ordered all the buildings moved, stone by stone, to new locations on top of the hill where the modern town is currently situated. The highlight of the historical sights is the Church of St. Nicholas. Built in the 12th or 13th century by the Knights Templar, the church combines the architectural features of a fortress and a Romanesque church.
On to Palas de Rei tomorrow!
-Nicholas P. Garcia
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sarria! I certainly did not believe that I would live to limp my way this far. With only 21 km between Triacastela and Sarria, we left our albergue around 7:30 am in hopes of arriving fairly early in the day. The road was pretty flat, our knees welcomed this break since many of us were injured due to the harsh terrains. On the way to Sarria, I was fortunate to see inside the Monastery of Samos before it closed for the day. It was beautiful (as you can see below) but the stairs leading up to it did a number on my knees. The monastary was everything I imagined it would be with high ceilings and intricate details. I would have liked to stay a bit longer and take pictures but there a monk was waiting to escort people out. With about 10 km left before we arrived at our destination, Gabrielle and I limped on.
After walking along a seemingly endless road, I finally arrived in Sarria and toured the town with my group after a brief nap. The first stop was the Iglesia de San Salvador. The church was built in the 11th century and has an early gothic style evloving from Romanesque architecture. Above the entrance of the side door was a figure with his palms up facing out and his hands are supposedly blessing everyone that passes by. From the church you could see the only tower that remains of the medieval fortress belonging to the town. Next we climbed a short hill which brought us to the Monasterio de Magdalena.
This monastery was founded in the 13th century as a pilgrim hospital by Italian Monks of the Blessed Martyrs of Jesus. Presently, the building houses a small cloister and is a private school. Fortunately for us, there was a strapping young lad who was willing to let our group tour the building, of course that was after he corrected my Spanish. After the tour and our daily reflection ended, half of the group headed to La Iglesia de Santa Marina to have their credenciales stamped. Soon after we all met for dinner at ¨ O Meson das Tapas¨ and enjoyed a delicious 3 course meal. Dr. Gyug ordered octupus for our table which was not as bad as I imagined, really chewy.
There was a fellow peregrino at the table across from us eating alone on his birthday. The waitress asked us to sing Happy Birthday to him when she brought out his desert. So that is exactly what we did, in English of course, what did you expect, Spanish? Monsieur Francois, who is half French and part Trinidadian and Tobago, joined our table for the rest of his dinner. On our way back to the hostal we saw a lot of the people we had met over the course of our trip. It was always a pleasure to encounter people who understood how much of a struggle it was to reach each destination, but they were always genuinely excited to see that WE ALL MADE IT, AGAIN.
No pain, No glory!
Saturday, June 4, 2011
In the opinion of this intrepid Fordham peregrino (and I suspect that none of my fellow travelers would disagree) that the last two days have been the most taxing--- physically and emotionally--- of our journey thus far. For the entire trip, we´ve gazed in horror at the elevation map surrounding O Cebreiro, a tiny hamlet atop the mountain range that separates Leon from Galicia. It is near nothing but the sky, some cows, and a handful of similarly tiny villages which guard the mountain passes into Spain´s most isolated province. The week of anticipation of the trek to the summit made the mountains, so long in front of us, appear taller and foreboding with each passing day. As we retired Thursday night, our fate could be delayed no more.
We rose at 5am, determined to get an early start in what promised to be an especially demanding journey. After some fits and starts getting out the door, we found ourselves along side the regional highway. In a paradoxical occurrence, the shoulder of the expressway is actually the most authentic of the three possible routes into the mountains, as the highway was built along the original Camino. Perhaps the most frustrating portion of the day was nearly 15km spent following the highway and, later, its branch into a series of small towns in the valley between the peaks we intended to ascend. The anticipation built further, as field after field and farm after farm passed by. Out location grew more remote, but the terrain remained frustratingly flat: we knew an enormous assent was in store (the elevation map said so!), but grew ever more impatient with its slow arrival. All along the winding roads, there was a collective exhortation of ¨we can do it! Let´s just get it over with!¨
What hubris. Over 15km into a hot afternoon, the incline hit. We entered an oak and chestnut forest just as the ground turned sharply upward. The path was unrelenting in its rockiness, while the foliage around us provided shade, yes, but also kept the air still and hot. For nearly three kilometers the unrelenting rise continued with sharp twists and turns as we tacked back and forth across the face of the mountain. At one point, I found myself stopped with three fellow Fordhamites, greedily gulping water and Aquarius (the Spanish Gatorade substitute) when three French women in their mid-60s rounded a bend, bade us ¨hola,¨ and continued on with nary a break, chuckling to themselves (undoubtedly, about how four young-bloods needed a break while they carried on). Talk about impressive.
But as… unpleasant… the experience of the climb was, it yielded some remarkable vistas. Within the forest, we glimpsed unspoiled woodland life, occasionally spying some secluded glade that might have housed Heidi of literary fame and her family. And, as we reached the end of the first set of forest, we emerged into a brilliant, sunlit series of wild fields, grazing grounds for a few particularly intrepid cattle and their indomitable farmers. These high fields commanded extraordinary views of the valleys below. We wandered the otherworldly pastures between prairie grasses twice our height as the path looped across a last face of the mountain, through one more glen, and then, mercifully, into La Laguna.
We were received with a chorus of applause by a ground of Spanish bicyclists who had stopped in the bar to have a cerveza before continuing down across the opposite face into Triacastela. Some of our number had made it on foot, while others fought off injuries as long as was humanly possible—even Dr. Gyug found himself in need of impromptu open-foot surgery to remain in working order. Every single one of us, after a much needed shower and a caña de cerveza, collapsed in a collective heap of exhaustion for a nearly 3 hour siesta (long even by Spanish standards). We ate a fantastic menú del día, eating just enough and drinking perhaps too much in the otherwise empty dining room. Our hostel had only 20 beds, 16 of which were filled by Fordham and our tag-along doctor, Juan. Chatty from the wine and energized by the day and by the nap, we finally retired late.
Fordham Camino groups in the past have walked from Villafranca all the way through to O Cebreiro, but the unavailability of hostels had prompted our stop in La Laguna, only 2km from O Cebreiro, which I was charged to research. We rose a bit later than usual and ascended to O Cebreiro, the views of the valley all the most spectacular as we reached the mountain´s peak and bathed in the glow of the sunrise. Galicia is historically “ibero-Celtic,” and has an extraordinary Celtic influence dating back over 1500 years. The town itself seems like something out of Ireland, with lush, green foliage growing in every crevice of squat, square stone buildings, a departure from La Laguna only 2 km behind. Celtic tunes emanated from storefronts, and we found ourselves in front of the Church, which emitted a combination of Galician bagpipes and Gregorian chant. Santa Maria la Real is a square, small pre-Romanesque church which purports to be the oldest along the Camino, erected in the 900s. Legend tells of a miracle which occurred in the 14th century, where an frustrated Spanish priest was interrupted while saying Mass, during the Consecration no less, but a peasant who had walked the mountain in a blinding snowstorm to receive Communion. The priest chastised the peasant, asking why he would risk his life in the storm just to see a miracle which was purely symbolic. At that instant, the bread was transformed into flesh, dripping blood which poured down his robe and onto the altar. The remnants of the host are saved in a chalice gifted by Queen Isabella, and the chalice appears on Galicia´s flag.
The day still had hours of hiking ahead, and we were, every one of us, sort and in various states of injury. Nonetheless, we found ourselves atop a peak looking west toward the Galician plains and, ultimately, Santiago, just beyond the halfway point of our journey, filled with a sense of both great accomplishment and some trepidation for the challenges ahead. But the thousand year old O Cebreiro, despite its small size and physical and cultural isolation, maintained a certain infectious indominability, as it has for pilgrims for centuries. As each of us took for ourselves this dogged determination to persevere, the road down into the valley seemed a bit more manageable.
I walked with Gabrielle and Nadege for a long stretch towards Villafranca, and we stopped several times along the way to take in the fantastic views of the Bierzo landscape. We even passed an arrow formed with cherries on the road pointing us in the direction of our destination. Seems like a waste of the deliciously in-season snack! A bit later, over an energizing lunch of sandwiches and granola bars, we discussed our plans upon arrival at the hostel, most of which included a shower and siesta after a long hot day. I walked by myself for a bit afterwards before meeting up with Sarah, Vinny, Ada, Andy, Xavier, and Helena, and we all shared stories and laughter along the final stretch into Villafranca.
Finally, the Iglesia del Santiago came into view and we knew we had finally reached the town. This 12th century Romanesque church is home to the `Puerta del Perdon´, which is known along the Camino as the door at which pilgrims who become ill along the route and cannot continue may recieve the same absolution as they would in Santiago. This church, which appears more like a fortress with its thick stone walls and small, highly-situated windows, was founded by the bishop of Astorga in 1186. Inside, there is a small Baroque chapel decorated by various holy images, and upon seeing it in person I was awestruck by its beauty. We spent a few peaceful minutes in the church later in the afternoon, which gave me time to think about how grateful I am to have made it this far, and to have the opportunity to travel through beautiful medieval Spain where thousands of other pilgrims have walked for centuries past.
We also saw the Iglesia de San Francisco, which sits atop a somewhat threatening set of stairs, especially after a long day of hiking. This church, founded in 1214 by St. Francis himself on his own pilgrimage to Santiago, has a famously intricate ceiling decorated in the style of Mudejar, which involves complicated tiling patterns and elaborate brickwork. Unfortunately the church was closed so we couldn´t take a look inside, but I imagine the level of detail on the ceiling makes it hard to concentrate in Mass!
Later, the group split up for a while to wander the town, and I enjoyed a late afternoon ¨snack¨ of not one, but two delicious Hawaiian pizzas with Sarah, Nick, and Helena at a quaint restaurant in the plaza. After the first, we couldn´t help but order another. Hey, when in Spain! Then, after a tour of the town as a group, we all went to the supermercado and picked up materials for a potluck dinner (I know, more food!) Outside, Sarah got involved in what appeared to be a cutthroat game of monkey-in-the-middle with some children from the town, and finally we had to break it up so we could settle down for dinner in the town square. Our meal included vino, bread, chorizo, and LOTS of cheese. Yum! After dinner, we laughed over the nightly game of mafia before strolling back to our hostel to rest up for the grueling climb to O´Cebreiro the following day. Peter will tell you all about that!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Yesterday we made it to Molinaseca, on the last day of May, after a long day filled with climbing up and down steep mountains and many cases of knee pain. The morning started out like any other, a little on the cooler side, but beautiful. We met outside of the Albergue and began our journey into the clouds. We began the day knowing that this would be the toughest day in terms of steep inclines and declines.
The walk to La Cruz de Ferro, an early way point for peregrinos on their way to Santiago, went well and we felt strong and happy to finally see it in person. The tradition is to bring a stone with you and throw it at the base of the cross leaving behind something that you regret or wish to change. Ellen and I made it to la Cruz de Ferro with Dr. Gyug and threw our stones at the base and marveled at the view.
The next part of the day was rocky, in both senses of the word. The terrain changed to steep downhills lined with loose rocks. For Allison and I it was also a time for miracles. When Allison was walking she began to have knee pain and just when she thought she could not make it down any further a Dutch couple stopped and wrapped her knee and gave her pain medication. As I was walking my knee pain was intensified by the downhills and at one point as I was slowly decending, three older men from Bilbao came and asked me what was wrong. They put a cream on my knee and waited for me at the bottom of the hill, where they carried my backpack, allowing me to make it to the next town, Al Acebo.
The rest of the day went on much the same with the terrain changing slightly,the towns getting smaller and the temperature increasing. When we finally made it to Molinaseca I immediately saw la Sanctuario de Nuestra Señora de las Angustias on the right and I knew we were there. The town was much more beautiful in person than any photograph can capture. Later in the evening I gave my presentation by the river Miruelo as everyone soaked their feet. We shared our stories of the day and the people we met along the way.
Yesterday was truely a day of grace and miracles and it really shows that when you think you cannot take another step the camino always finds a way.
Buen Camino everyone!
So, a little history on the city. Ponferrada is located on the intersection of the Sil and Boeza rivers, in the heart of the Bierzo wine region. It was an important Roman city because of the mining fields located about 20km from the town. Ponferrada started as a small city but once the Crown gifted the city to the Templars for protection in 1178, it grew into a major city.
The Templar Castle was built between 1210 and 1282 over a pre-Roman castro, a Roman fort, and a Visigoth fort that was destroyed during Almanzor´s raids in the 990s. It is around 16,000 square meters. Unfortunately, the Templars were unable to enjoy the fruits of their work for very long because in 1311, the Templars were expelled from Spain and their belongings were taken away, including the Castle. After the expulsion of the Templars, several noble families fought amongst themselves over the ownership of the Castle until the Crown, like an angry parent punishing his or her child, took possession of the Castle. Crown possession lasted until 1340 when the king gave the Castle to the Count of Lemos, Pedro Alvarez de Osorio. The Count constructed new additions to the Castle over the years. These new constructions are evident in the different stone layers in the walls.
While we were touring the Castle, Dr. Gyug mentioned that the Castle had not yet seen its final tournament and led us into a courtyard and divided us into two teams. We were a bit confused about what was going on but we dutifully positioned ourselves into two lines opposite each other. Dr. Gyug climbed up to the wall looking into the courtyard and shouted that the tournament had begun and we rushed each other, brandishing swords made out of whatever we happened to be holding. I, personally, forgot who was supposed to be on my team so I attacked whoever was closest to me. This lasted for a couple of minutes until Dr. Gyug told us that we needed to lift someone on our shoulders to declare a team´s victory. We choose Allison as our victor and Peter and Vinny lifted her onto their shoulders and carried her around.
After our tour of the Castle we headed to the Church of Santa Maria de la Encina. We looked around for a bit and then headed to lunch. By that point, we were all really tired so once that was over we headed back to the hostal and had a short nap. Overall, it was a pretty great day.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Once healed and revived by the coroner, we began the 22km walk from Astorga to Rabanal del Camino. The walk itself was pleasant with the wild flowers growing and the mountain range in the distance, where you could even spot some snow on various mountain tops. The incline was gradual, but Allison, Melanie, and I noticed that the uphill walk actually helped limber up our sore leg muscles. We reached Rabanal in good time and arrived at our albergue, which I have to mention now bears the same name as my host mother from Granada - Pilar! This was fitting as I was scheduled to present on Rabanal later that afternoon. But first, we showered ourselves, washed our clothes, and switched our hiking boots for flip flops. Ah, the perfect way to spend a relaxing afternoon in the courtyard of the albergue.
Before I get into the history of the Rabanal (brief, but oh so fascinating!) I would like to document that we are now at the point of our camino that we are beginning to recoginize other pilgrims along the way. Juan, our coroner and savior, was also staying at the Albergue el Pilar, and Dr. Gyug and I saw two of the Italians we met at in San Martin eating on a bench in Rabanal. Our Fordham community is growing into the community of the road that we had only read about before in our textbooks.
Another welcome member to the group was the ADORABLE puppy living in the Albergue, named Dani. That dog, let me tell you, is living quite the idyllic life in Rabanal. She travels from table to table, where pilgrims pet her and feed her, having succombed to her puppy-eyed charm.
The time had come for my presentation, and I decided to test out the traditional Rose Hill Society technique of tour guides. Namely, I walked backwards while giving my tour, which is not as nearly as easy as it sounds! The history of Rabal dates back to the Roman era, when the Romans had gold mines in Fucarona that connected to canals leading all the way to Rabanal, some of which are still visible to this day. In the 12th century, the Knights Templar held a military base there meant to protect the pilgrims passing through Monte Irago to Ponferrada. Now, the town the contues to be a safe haven for pilgrims stopping along the way to Santiago.
The monuments in Rabanal include the Hostal de San Gregorio and the church Santa Maria de la Asunción. The first is a resting place for peregrinos and is known for housing the priest, poet, and pilgrim, Aymery Picaud, in the 12 c. The second is a church built in the late 12th century in the Romanesque style characterized by the rounded arches along the entrance and the ceiling. It has undergone a few changes during the 18th and 19th century, but only for remodeling/restoration purposes.
Later that evening a few from our group went to the vespers at the Santa Maria de la Asunción, where we recited prayers in Latin and received a pilgrim´s blessing.
Thankful for a safe arrival in Rabanal, we fearless pilgrims will rest up tonight for our walk tomorrow to Molinaseca. Hopefully, Vinny won´t be the first to die in our nightly game of mafia - it would be a shame if he didn´t make it to Cruz de Ferro.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Presently we are all safe and sound in our hostel at Astorga in close proximity to their lovely cathedral (which we couldn´t get into) and Gaudi´s Episcopal Palace (which we also couldn´t get into) (darn Sundays).
Two days ago we began our journey to Compostela bright and early at 7:00, expect for a few folks who decided to sleep in...Nick. The walk proved to be a long and tiring, but filled with the pleasure of enjoying an unique adventure. We passed through feilds and farms filled with a large palette of wild flowers and shrubbery that proved to be great backdrop for the walk. The towns we passed through were quanit and friendly and could have easily been on a postcard.
Our first stop was at San Martin where we stopped at our hostel in the afternoon. The hostel proved to be an incredibly comfortable oasis in the Spanish countryside with plenty of amenities to spare. After a long and much much desired day of absolute relaxation, we shared a large family style dinner with an animated group of Italian peregrinos. The night was filled with shared laughter and stories as we shared out communal camino bond over our meal.
Unfortunately we had to leave this oasis, for the road was calling. After about an hour or so of walking we came to our first stop at Hospital de Orbigo. The town was originally settled by Romans along the path from Astorga to the French country side. The major aspect of the town is the central bridge which leads you into the center of town. Orginially built by the Romans, it has since been reconstructed in the 13th Century from which the bridge gained its present gothic form, and a massive renovation in the 1950s.
This bridge is also the location of the last medieval jousting tournament to have occured, a story central to the town´s identity. In 1434, Suero de Quniones, a noble knight, decided to arrange this very tournament. The tournament was spurred on by the vow of love to an unnamed lady who had been not showing any signs of affection towards him. He had been very committed to this love, even to go as far as wearing a metal necklet every Thursday. He had made an arrangement with the King to have this tournament relieve him of his unrequited duties of love. The stipulations of the tournament was that either within 30 days or 300 spears Suero de Quninoes would be concidered the victor. By the 30 day cut off he had only broken 166 spears and fought only 68 knights, but was concidered the victor because he had survived for 30 days. An example of the benefits of a "plan B." As a good and victorious knight is want to do, he had a companion record these "noble" deeds into an account that was very popular in its day and the sourse for the story in the present day. This story truely has taken the imagination of the town of Hospital de Orbigo today, many of the bars and shops are named after this story in one way or another and a massive medieval fair/jousting tournament is held on June 5th in commemeration of the deeds of Suero de Quninones.
After Hospital de Orbigo, we set off for Astorga. While yesterday we walked as a bigger group, today we spread out and slowed the pace a little. The towns were further apart and the road curved away from the highway, and we had an extremely pleasant hike through the rolling hills of Northern Spain (despite our tiring legs and blistering feet). About 6 miles from Astorga, we came across a building in the middle of the countryside, which was home to a very interesting Spanish man named David. He stayed by the side of his barn (or what appeared to be a barn) all day offering juice and snacks to passing peregrinos. He was genuinely thrilled to talk to anyone who passed by (in his limited English) and the side of the barn was graffitied with hearts sayings such as ¨nuestra vida es la obra de nuestros pensamientos¨ (our life is the work of our thoughts). The group consesus was that this tiny stand was the Pugsley´s of the Camino, David being a Spanish Sal. It was definitely a welcome break in our day.
We arrived in Astorga by lunchtime and enjoyed a menu del dia at a local restaurant. We toured the small city, which was originally founded as a Roman city in 14 BC. The focal point of the city is the cathedral, which was constructed over several centuries, mixing aspects of many types of architecture and art. Immediately beside the cathedral is Gaudi´s Palacio Episcopal, built around the turn of the 20th Century. Finally we looked at the Roman ruins, including remains of very impressive 4th Century walls. We wrapped up the tour with a rousing game of mafia, and are now taking a much needed rest in the hostel to prepare for our early start to Rabanal in the morning. Check in tomorrow for more!
Vin & Mel
Friday, May 27, 2011
We have arrived at our starting point along the Camino de Santiago. After traveling various paths to get here, we have finally all arrived (except for Nick) at the beginning. We met up at our hotel, Hotel Reina, on the afternoon and evening of May 26, and spent the night getting accustomed to the city. Dr. Gyug took us on a mini tour of the old city, where we enjoyed tapas, a Spanish tradition in which several small plates (appetizers, or 'tapas') are ordered and shared among the group. One of the dishes we tried was 'morcilla,' or Spanish blood sausage, which we both enjoyed (even Allison, the ex-vegetarian).
Following Andrew's exquisite tour of the cathedral, Allison heroically led the way (with help from Dr. Gyug) to the Collegiate Church of San Isidoro. The remains of San Isidoro, who was bishop of Sevilla in the seventh century, were moved to the monastery church of St. John the Baptist, now the Collegiate Church, in 1063. At this time, León was just becoming an important stop along the Camino de Santiago, and visiting his reliquary became a part of the pilgrim's experience in the city. The church on this site has been rebuilt and added on to so many times that it today exhibits Romanesque, Gothic, and Baroque styles. Because of this, there are both rounded and pointed arches, as well as a Baroque railing and sculpture of San Isidoro above 'la Puerta del Cordero' (Gate of the Lamb, which depicts the Resurrection of Christ and the hand of God intervening to stop the sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham). The Collegiate Church also houses a museum, which includes the treasury of elaborate chalices, reliquaries, and other religious items donated to the church throughout the Middle Ages and some volumes from the collegiate library. The earliest manuscripts date back as far as the Carolingian era. Finally, the tour of San Isidoro finished with the Panteon de los Reyes, considered by many to be the Sistine Chapel of the Spanish Romanesque style because of its elaborate eleventh-century frescos.
After, the group walked to San Marcos, which used to be an accomodation for pilgrims sponsored by the royal family but has since been converted into a parador, or luxury hotel (just a tad out of our budget this time around). Later in the day, we reconvened outside the hotel in
Hasta el próximo,
Andrew and Allison