Eating well is important when your body is under the constant stress of walking, but this isn’t so easy to achieve when living a nomadic lifestyle in rural Spain. We are walking between 20-30 kilometres each day, for around 5 days, then taking a rest day. Our schedule is designed to enable relaxation and recuperation in the major towns and cities along the trail. Today we rested in the city of Burgos. This involved renting a 1 bedroom apartment, sleeping in until 9 am, then cooking up a feast of vegetables: mushrooms, asparagus, tomatoes, avocado and eggs, which we mopped up with a fresh baguette. Then we went downstairs and into the plaza, to get coffee and pastry. At about noon we attended to our tourist duties, by visiting the famed Museum of Human Evolution and learning about the archaeological sites we walked past the day before, near the village of Atapuerca. The exhibition includes more than 200 fossils like the remains of Homo antecessor and Homo Heidelbergenisis, 850,000 and 400,000 years old respectively. We got a discounted ‘Peregrino’ rate.
Susan would have happily lingered in the hall dedicated to biological evolution, but my feet were hurting and my mind had turned to lunch.
Finding food that meets my dietary preferences and health needs has proved difficult, but Susan found us a vegetarian restaurant not far from our apartment and the food was excellent.
HOME
Back at home, I drink tea, not coffee, and for the past year, I have observed a gluten-free diet under the direction of my specialist. I also prefer to minimize or exclude meat. On the trail again tomorrow, where a gluten-free/vegetarian diet is almost impossible. The size of the villages, the time of year, and the state of the Spanish economy post-Covid means that we are grateful to find retail outlets that are open for trade. We eat what they sell. We have become opportunistic eaters.
Each day we plan for the worst-case scenario (checking that the supplies we carry in our packs will cover breakfast, lunch and dinner) and then celebrate if something better opens up. Some villages have bakeries, some supermarkets, some restaurants, some vending machines, some nothing at all. Some villages and towns have all of the above, but when we walk through they are all closed.
Spanish stores are usually open in the morning around 10 am, then close for a siesta from around 12.30 to 1 pm. They then open by 5 pm for a few more hours. But with their shutters down and the streets empty except for pilgrims, these towns and villages sometimes resemble sets from a zombie apocalypse movie… and we are the walking dead.
The best-case scenario is finding a bar or restaurant that sells pilgrim meals. These set-menu meals are simple and cheap, offering three courses of plain but healthy food and a drink. Last week when we were freezing at Santo Domingo de la Calzada, we found a hearty pilgrim meal nearby at 2 pm and devoured it gratefully, along with the half-bottle of wine included in the price (I meant to put the photo of the meal here, but my aim was poor…). Susan had the potato soup with the sausage for ‘firsts’ and mine was beans and clams.
The human ancestors who lived near here, at Sierra de Atapuerca, took advantage of their environment to vary their diet. They were hunter-gatherers, but they also scavenged fresh meat when unwary animals entered their cave. No need to capture or slaughter the beast themselves, the unsuspecting bear or bison conveniently tumbled off an unexpected cliff and fell to their death – pre-tenderized.
Walking is our daily work and the resources we might encounter are unknown. So we plan for the worst, hope for the best, and are grateful for delicious meals and gracious service when we encounter them.
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