Life in Leon
Learning to Embrace Sabbath
After getting humbled and grounded by shin splints, a little pat on the back for me: Of all the places on the Camino to convalesce, Leon was a great choice!
Like Burgos, it’s a bigger city of about 140,000 people. Now, “big” is relative on the Camino. When you’re walking everywhere, a town this size can feel like a veritable metropolis. To mitigate some of that disorientation and extra pounding on pavement, I’ve secured an efficiency apartment with a small kitchen on the edge of the Old City. Most that I’d need or want to see is within a relatively short walk.
Short is the key word here, as the whole point of my layover in Leon is to rest my legs.
Settling In
My apartment has no actual view of the city–or even windows, for that matter. Just some skylights above the sofa. So, as I periodically ice and elevate my shins, let’s just say that I am becoming more familiar with the clouds and birdlife than anything else in Leon!
Eventually, I figure out how to navigate the TV, but almost all of the content is in very rapidly spoken Spanish. I understand roughly every 20th word.
The one exception is…Eurovision!
It just so happens that I’m laid up during Eurovision 2025. For the uninitiated (like me until today), it’s a televised competition of musical performers from different European nations, with audience voting both in person and online. And lucky for me, most of the performances are in English. (I just didn’t realize Israel and Azerbaijan were considered European, but what do I know?!)
This year’s version is hosted in Basel, Switzerland, and I’m struck by the weird juxtaposition of national patriotism and often eccentric musical performances. It’s like American Idol trained for the Olympics but ended up at summer camp. The Estonian entrant was a case in point. Let’s just say that I’ll never think of Espresso Macchiato the same way again…
Venturing Out
But I can’t stay completely grounded at the apartment. Even on Sabbath, there are necessities to take care of, and walking a few hundred yards here or there is still vastly different than tromping 15 miles a day.
I’ll wait to tour some of the big-ticket items, but my initial glimpses of life in Leon are a striking alternative to the open fields and tiny villages of the Meseta. From weddings to commerce to tapas bars, I feel inside of a living community more than ever. And the Roman, Moorish, Romanesque, and Gothic influences make for a riot of styles and a palpable sense of history.
It’s refreshing to be immersed among Leon’s locals. Didn’t expect Spanish bachelorettes in cowboy hats, though!
After securing some groceries, the next item on my docket is getting some new shoes. I normally wear a size 12.5, but I’ve opted for a 14 on the Camino to allow for foot swelling and to minimize the jamming of my toenails on extended descents. Needless to say, life in Europe seems designed for shorter people, I’m skeptical I’ll find something suitable. So, I’m both surprised and thrilled to find both a known brand (Altra, with its wide toe box) in a size 14.
But I’m still not ready to discard my old shoes. Though worn, they were shoes that worked for me. Until the new Altras prove themselves, the Topo shoes are going to be along for the ride as backups.
La Peluqueria
Next on my list is a haircut and beard trim. Despite my mostly bald dome, my barber manages to spend a full hour working on me. There are three chairs and over a dozen instruments involved! The care, physical touch, and halting conversation in my remedial Spanish are a great reminder for this newly alone peregrino of the joy of embodiment and simple human connection.
I think I am also beginning to understand why so many women enjoy going to the hairdresser so much.
Speaking of which, I’ve found a friend!
Brad from Texas has just arrived after biking across the Meseta and is surprised to learn via WhatsApp that I’ve beaten him here. We’ve both come in unconventional ways to Leon, but we enjoy catching up over a meal at twilight on one of Leon’s many open air plazas with his hostel bunkmate Melanie from England.
Going Deep over Tapas
Earlier in the trip, Brad gave me a medallion that he’d made for his pilgrimage. Tonight, he shares the story of how it honors 3 of his family members who’ve died—and in whose memory he’s making his pilgrimage on the Camino. The medallion also creatively repurposes the famous vision receieved by Roman Emperor Constantine (“In this sign [the cross] conquer”) as a battle cry to help him finish his solo pilgrimage. Hadn’t seen that one coming, but it seems to be working so far.
After Melanie shares some about her own motivations for stepping away from a career in the UK and undertaking this journey, I share some of my own.
As I detailed in my initial post, my decision was catalyzed by my father’s transition from this life a few months earlier, but it also coincides with my making a significant vocational transition of my own without a clear next step. I just knew in my bones that the core work I’d most recently been engaged with (helping to launch a new medical school in my hometown of Nashville) was complete.
What was next was less clear. I just sensed that walking the Camino would be a key element of my discernment.
Am I further along in that process, she asks?
Emotionally, yes. The Camino–especially the past few days–has been a cathartic experience. The grief is starting to work its way out. My head is clearing. My heart is opening. And I’m experiencing rhythms and focal practices that I believe will be important ingredients in my ongoing life and discernment back home.
I just don’t know when that will be–and even if I’ll be able to make it to Santiago on my own power before I return.
But what I realize I need to embrace right now is Sabbath. Which literally just means stop (though it has so many more rich overtones). I thought I would be experiencing my Sabbath alone, but I’m glad to be mistaken, blessed yet again by the power of human connection on the Camino–whether via a Leonese barber, a Texan pilgrim, or his British bunkmate.
I’m slow to appreciate it, but God seems to be reminding me once again: whatever lies ahead, I am not alone.