My sleep is interrupted at 2 a.m. by the sound of a mobile band arriving in the street outside the hostel. I imagine the entire hostel woke up, but I don’t mind. In fact, I enjoy the unexpected concert happening outside my window. The nighttime performance lasts about 15 minutes, and then they leave.

I wake up again at 6 a.m. I don’t feel very energetic. The start of the day’s ride is tough—not because of the route, but because I struggle to find my rhythm. I take a break for breakfast at the first village I find, while my companion rides ahead to avoid cooling down.

I take my time. I order some eggs, orange juice, and a coffee. Just what I needed to recharge. I leave some leftover bread for the birds fluttering near my table, grateful for their unexpected company.

Afterward, I get back on the bike. Before leaving, I ask the café owner for directions to the Camino. She points to the route and, with an almost mystical tone, says: “Let the trees be your guide.”

Now I’m ready to ride. I follow the path between the trees until, at some point, I find myself in an open field that looks nothing like the Camino. I stop and glance around. In the distance, I spot a thin line of trees, and the woman’s words echo in my memory. I immediately change course and rejoin the Camino.

This route is my favorite so far. We pass through rural roads, tree-lined sections, and many villages. We eat one thing after another—it’s the most gluttonous day yet. The 55 kilometers feel light. The final stretch is an uphill climb that ends at a viewpoint overlooking the city of León. From there, it’s all downhill to the destination. Once again, I lose sight of Argos. It doesn’t matter—we’re close, and we’ll probably meet at the hostel.

León is a large city. As I reach the urban area, I ride through wide, well-marked streets, with a mix of paved roads and cobbled streets as I approach the old town where the hostel is located.

I arrive at the hostel, and there’s no sign of Argos yet. I check in and head straight for a shower. When I come out, I find Argos visibly upset, arguing with another pilgrim. There seems to be a mix-up with the beds, and neither of them speaks the other’s language, making the situation even more complicated. Without hesitation, I step in to mediate and manage to resolve the issue.

After doing some laundry, Argos and I head out to explore the historic heart of the city. As we wander through its narrow, cobbled streets, he recommends I visit León’s cathedral. I decide to check it out while he stays at a tavern to watch the Euro Cup match.

I walk a couple of blocks until, suddenly, I find myself in front of the towering cathedral. Its majesty leaves me speechless. I step inside and spend a good while admiring the impressive Gothic architecture and the stained-glass windows that bathe the interior in an almost magical light.

As I leave, to my surprise, I run into Jon Ander in the square. We stop to chat, catching up on our experiences along the Camino. Then we decide to find Argos, who’s watching the game at a nearby Irish pub. Spain is playing Croatia today, and the atmosphere promises to be electric.

Just as we enter the pub, Spain scores the first goal. Cheers and applause fill the room, and within minutes, the second goal comes, unleashing even more excitement among the crowd. The mood is festive, beers are flowing, and the energy spills beyond the pub’s walls.

The old town, with its winding alleys and lively bars, transforms into a vibrant scene of celebration. Laughter and chants blend with the energy that only a victory can bring. Adding to the atmosphere, several bachelor parties roam the streets, their extravagant costumes enhancing the festive air of the night.

Later, Argos decides to head back and rest, while I stay with Jon Ander for another beer. We end up at a bar that also serves tapas. I try some croquettes advertised as “extremely” spicy; while not as intense as expected, they are light and delicious.

Shortly before 10:30 p.m., the time when the hostel doors close, I say goodbye to my friend and sprint back to avoid being locked out. Luckily, I make it just in time.