“And you’re doing all this alone?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.  As of yet, I hadn’t met anyone else who wanted to spend six weeks walking across northern Spain.

“That’s a little scary,” he said.

“Not really,” I responded.  But I was talking to a man who had a daughter in college.  Most men with daughters get a little nervous when they hear about my plan to walk the Camino. My dad is probably nervous too, but is now well experienced at living through my wild ideas.

“Do you know if you go through Burgos?” he asked.  I confessed that I had no idea what towns I’d be walking through.  My only research so far had been to read every book I could find written by someone who had walked the Camino, but I had yet to really get down the details of the trip.  He talked with great enthusiasm about the town and the festival he and his wife attended while there.

“Did you go there specifically for that festival?” I asked.

“No, actually,” he said as his eyes sparkled and a smile spread across his face. With a laugh he explained that they had once hosted an exchange student from there and went to visit her.

“That’s the way to see a place – though the locals,” I said.  He agreed.

So this morning I did a little research.  And, in what I can only call another sign that I’m on the right path, found that Burgos is indeed on my route.

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