A Pit Stop

Monday, saw me on the road to Burgos.  

Burgos was founded as a military town, but little by little it became a city of great economic power during the Middle Ages thanks to its monopoly over the trade of merino wool. It was also the capital city of the unified kingdom of Castile and Leon for five centuries and boasts one of the masterpieces of Spanish Gothic architecture – the Cathedral of Saint Mary of Burgos, which was declared a World Heritage Site.

Burgos is also one of the main stops for pilgrims of Camino de Santiago or the Way of St. James in English – a pilgrimage leading to the shrine of the apostle James in the Cathedral of Santiago in Galicia, northwestern Spain, where, according to tradition the remains of the apostle are buried.

My friend was going to take the pilgrimage from Burgos. I was stopping enroute to Madrid. We did not have much time to explore this wonderful city, so chose to spend our morning at the Cathedral.

As we walked down the narrow streets with modern buildings, I was wondering if it would be worth the time, but we turned a corner and there stood the Cathedral in all its glory – awe-inspiring and fantastic.

As we wandered through the Cathedral my eyes were drawn to the number of paintings showing the baby Jesus. What caught my eye was the range of expressions on the faces of the adults when carrying or playing with the baby.

Perhaps it was the fact that I was just returning from a conference on play but to me the sheer innocence of the child, and the expressions of wonder and tenderness on the faces of people around, was truly fascinating. There is so much bitterness, anger, cynicism and frustration in the world today – what we perhaps really need is a strong dose of child-like innocence coupled with the fun of play.

As I walked out of the Cathedral, I saw many groups of people accompanied by music and festivities. They were all taking the pilgrimage to Satiago. Many of them carried the emblem of a scalloped shell which has become a symbol of the Camino de Santiago. I was told that in early times the shell was carried as a utensil to drink water from streams along the way and over time became a way of marking the route. I am not sure if this is true, but I watched fascinated for a while.

There was much to see and do in Burgos, but I needed to get to Madrid. I had a date with a book at El Escorial the next day – a date I did not want to miss, so it was time to leave.

But Burgos had one more treat for me. As I was leaving, a street musician caught my attention. He was set up over a little river, playing Bob Dylan’s song – Knock, Knock, Knocking on Heaven’s Door… It seemed exceedingly appropriate, played almost at the entrance to the Cathedral.

I sat for a while and let his music wash over me. It was a beautiful day. The sky was blue. I could hear birds chirping, and the trees with their gnarled brown boughs met overhead, forming a wonderful canopy There was a sense of satisfaction over the days I’d had at Aranda and a feeling of anticipation for over my visit to the Library at El Escorial.

But at that moment, I just wanted to stop and listen to the music.