Spectacular sunrise, I was so lucky to be able to see it. I left early, there was no breakfast – well it was a generous bag, but I’d only taken the OJ and banana, so left by 7:25. I thought that was late, but it was still dark out. Sunrise later and heavy clouds. I turned back and looked at the little town, dark clouds with a hint of dark purple and red over the bell tower and a crescent moon above. So pretty.
Then entered a wooded area and it was really dark, but I was moving quickly since others were also starting and chatting. I do love the quiet, so moved ahead hoping not to trip and then it started lightening, such a cool way to start the day.
No pictures of churches today. Didn’t go into any, the little towns that I went through either had churches too far to go to – not taking any extra steps – or were closed. I thought I’d connect with the people I’d been having dinner and some hiking with, but my timing was off.
Most towns, no matter how small, have their own way of incorporating the Camino. After all, they all exist because of the Camino. Loved this sign – the plate-like display is of the town with numbers for significant things. Tiny town.
In case you weren’t sure who lived in this barn:
Sun hitting the fields:
Then I hit Burgos. Back to one of my days where I missed on the food. By the time I checked in and got a shower, lunch time was over. Most places were just doing coffee or drinks. A few had little snacks, but they looked so unappealing. The place that looked great – had a Michelin sign – I couldn’t figure out how to order. Really. It’s intimidating when there’s clearly a way to do things and you have no idea what it is or how to get someone’s attention to order.
I’m in Burgos which is a major town and tons of people out on the town, just like in Logrono and very few – didn’t see any – peregrinos. I’d thought I’d connect with John, Sean, and Sue for dinner, but cleverly forgot to get any of their phone numbers. I’m so used to seeing everyone I’ve met or seen on the trail at night – it’s different in a big town. So no English and I was tired and hungry and gave up. Finally found a bakery and got two pastries and came back to the room. So happy to have a quiet clean room for two nights. Decided I’d relish that and tackle food again tomorrow.
Plus tomorrow night will be my last night with Fiona and Merv who’ve taken a different pace the last few days. So – one more night with friends and then – it really will be a new Camino.
Today felt like a calmer day. As I started, within a block, I sat to take a rock out of my shoe and saw this sign:
Honestly, it was early, I was just walking and not noticing. I would have missed the sign if I hadn’t sat down. So – I counted my steps and looked back and saw this:
Amazing. Such an intense face. I don’t know who she is or what is being conveyed, but it was striking. The next mural was this:
Refugees? Franco’s regime? Women’s plight the world over? I don’t know.
All along the Camino have been art installations, photos in the fields, hanging from trees, murals with “Art Installe” (I think). Maybe it’s all year, maybe it’s September, I don’t know. But it always adds a note of something more. OK – just found it online for Belorado. Street artists cover Spanish village in murals celebrating local women. “Village of Belorado has a very unique and peculiar tradition – the game of bolo beliforiano, a type of bowling played exclusively by women. And to celebrate that tradition, the local cultural organization decided to paint the facades of eight houses.” This was in 2019, the photos look amazing, I just saw these two.
The terrain has changed and is beautiful in a new way. Here’s the terrain and here’s me walking with the sun coming up behind me.
This tiny town didn’t have anywhere to stop, but I loved the sign on the fountain and the church behind it with a peregrino wind vane.
I walked a lot of the way alone, then had a morning snack with John and then caught up with him and Sue to walk the rest of the way into San Juan de Ortega. Nice to have the chat/distraction for the last couple of miles.
When having the snack before John joined, I started reading Dr. Edith Eva’s book, The Choice recommended by Fiona. Incredible. I told John it was a good thing he came along because I could have just sat there for the next hour. So now I have great books on audio and on Kindle.
On the way, we passed a memorial to the 300 people killed by the Franco regime out of Burgos, 16 miles (as we walk it) from here. One of the highest concentration of murders in Spain during that period.
Near the end when we were getting tired, a guy was playing music, dancing and selling watermelon for whatever anyone wanted to donate, but he was giving it out whether people gave or not. Just as good as that melon from the olive grove a few days back and a really nice pick up to keep you going. Plus he was having so much fun, people would start to walk by and then would stop and sit and just be captivated. And he was probably in his 50’s!
San Juan de Ortega may be the calmest prettiest plaza and church yet. It’s quiet, you can hear the tractor still going, a few murmurs, I’m sitting on a bench in front of the town fountain, water for pilgrims. I also was able to sit for about half the pilgrim mass the priest was giving. He had a great face and was able to get up and down, so doing ok in this tiny town of 18. All the pilgrims went up for communion. I just enjoy the ambience and knowing the comfort the churches in this area have been bringing to at least some of the people for 1000 years.
All one building, this is where we had lunch and dinner. At dinner I tried blood pudding, morcellas (something like that). It was actually really good. But I could only try it. I’m eating everything in front of me and the more I can put in front of me the better. Pork chops and sausage (really? Haven’t had either in years), salad and bread. The ubiquitous bread. Then cheese with honey, a local desert. Pot of cold cheese – really more like yoghurt, but thicker consistency and no sugar then pour honey over.
This plaza is the scene of San Juan’s festival in the spring. He was Santo Domingo’s protege, following his footsteps building bridges, roads and helping pilgrims. He’s the saint for surveyors and architects and they have a festival to celebrate. Think it’s probably more lively than an American group of surveyors and architects. But maybe not!
Here’s the little chapel next to the big church where they had the service. Even little chapels are awfully nice. That’s San Juan’s coffin and relics within (1080-1163). They’ve actually examined them several times, amazing. He lived til he was 83!
Such a fun day. Isn’t this beautiful? Morning shot of Santo Domingo’s first bridge from the 11th century. It’s clearly been updated, cared for and strengthened, but it’s still his bridge.
I walked alone, with only one conversation at a cafe. I’d seen this guy the day before as we left early from Najera. He was slightly ahead of me and he knelt down when we hit the dirt path from the tarmac, put his hand on the ground and clearly was saying a prayer. I quietly went by him and we leapfrogged intermittently through the day. Today, he caught up at the cafe for breakfast. We talked about the churches we passed and he said he never went in. I asked if he was Catholic (similar to the guy in The Way) and he said no, this is my religion and something else – German, missed what he was saying in English. He pointed to his shirt and the image there. I thought, ok, maybe he’s a Satanist. I know they care for the earth and a lot of positive things as well as a few different directions. We talked a bit more and actually this guy was Celtic. Passionate about it. He said there are a few Celts in Germany, lot more in France. He wanted to talk a lot about it, but happily, he also had to smoke and I was done with my sandwich and hot chocolate so we went our separate ways.
Long walk just because of cumulative tiredness, I think. Listened to couple podcasts and books as well as quiet time. Now the vineyards are all gone and wheat and sunflowers. The sunflowers look spooky, but they’re waiting until they’ve dried more to harvest.
Then I went off the schedule. Last night, I’d talked to a couple of people at my hotel who had become part of the regulars either having a drink after the walk or connecting for dinner. I asked if they’d have any interest in going in a taxi to see San Millan Monasteries, Yuso and Suso. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage sight and looked pretty amazing. They said yes. The owners of our hotel who were completely wonderful got very enthusiastic and in a torrent of Spanish worked with me to set up a taxi in the next town to take us, wait, and bring us back. I was dizzy by the end and we were all laughing, but it worked!
From Pilgrimage Road to Santiago: “According to his biographers San Braulio, San Millan was born in 473 in the village of Berceo (went through it today). As a young shepherd he heard God’s call and had a vision in which his zither became a pen and the mountainous landscape of the Sierra de la Demanda to the south became God’s beautiful kingdom. He was tutored by San Felice and after a brief stint as a priest during which he gave away most of his church’s assets, he retired to a cave to be a hermit. His fame as a holy man spread and the cave soon became a pilgrimage site where Millan worked many miracles, multiplying bread to feed the crowds of worshippers, exorcising demons and more. He died at the age of 101 and was buried.”
San Millan is very important to Spain and there are two monasteries, one, Susa (higher) was where his cave was and the lower one, Yusa, is where the larger monastery was built when the upper one couldn’t handle the crowd capacity. There are still Augustinian monks practicing there, continuing the work with the ancient texts. That’s enough, I’ll just give a couple of pictures, but the three of us, Sean, Sue and I thought it was well worth the death defying taxi ride to go there 🙂
Suso, the upper one built between 6th and 11th centuries, with his tomb from the second half of the 12th century.
His actual cave is still there, but up even higher and blocked to visitors.
Yuso is below. The king wanted to move San Millan’s remains to Najera. They loaded his remains on a cart and started out. The oxen which were pulling the cart stopped in the valley as if the Saint’s remains did not want to abandon it, so the monastery of Yuso was constructed on the spot (per the brochure). Built between 16th and 18th centuries by the Benedictine abbots on the ruins of the 10-11th c Romanesque monastery.
I would not want to look up at that giant painting of San Millan defeating the Moors – mythology of him appearing on a horse just as Santiago did in time to save the Christians.
Then back to Belorado. A town either already struggling or really hit by COVID. There were only 2 restaurants that were available. Went to one for lunch before the monasteries, then the other for dinner. They started at 7:30 and luckily Sean and John had reservations so Sue and I joined them and Fiona, Merv, Hope and Steve ate at another table, then we joined up after others left. So interesting how people come and go. I’ll have one more dinner with Fiona and Merv in Burgos, then they’re gone – doing different days to get there. Sue and I are mostly on the same schedule and then John and Sean are jumping ahead after Burgos. Then maybe I’ll meet all new people – or maybe I’ll be alone till Rick comes. But it’s been fun with this crew.
Today was wonderful all day long – including the hotel and food! The walks have all been wonderful, but there’s been mixed outcomes with a couple of the hotels. But today I got started early, walked alone the whole time with one cafe stop and got here by 1:15. Early!
Then the owner of the hotel, an old watermill, was completely wonderful. No English, but articulate so that I could get by. So so nice. She said she could do a load of laundry when I asked about doing it somewhere. 7E for one load. Yes – I’ll do it! That load I did never dried, especially the socks, ach, mildew ripe.
Then she gave me a restaurant name for the menu el dia – the 3 course meal that I had twice and I was in time for it. Finally, she said she does a dinner here and it could be at 7:15. Really?!! That’s amazing. And I’m hungry enough that I want both lunch and dinner today. Actually, I always want more food, though am just fine. I finished my almonds and peanut M&Ms today. That’s been my back up for 2 weeks, will have to resupply if I can find somewhere. Here’s my treat today:
This is a local treat, called the little hanging man. It’s from a Saint Domingo legend that occurred here. A young man and his parents were on the Camino in the 1200’s (?) and a young girl in the inn they stayed in fell in love with the young man but he was indifferent. To get revenge, she hid a silver cup in his bag.
She then turned him in to the authorities. The penalty for theft at the time was death by hanging. When his parents left to go to Santiago de Compostela, they went to see their hanged son and when they reached the place where he was, they heard the son’s voice announcing that Santo Domingo de la Calzada had preserved his life. They immediately went to the house of the City Mayor and told him the prodigy.
Incredulous, the mayor replied that their son was as alive as the rooster and the chicken that he was preparing to eat. At that precise moment, the rooster and the chicken jumping from the plate and began to sing.
From that day on, there have been chickens at the cathedral. Until today! Look in the lower left of this photo and you can see the chicken in the coop, just the red head shows up – it’s probably really nice behind this area. Above the coop is a piece of the gibbet!
This church was great, not because of the church, though it’s huge/amazing, but because of the saint that it’s named for – Saint Gregorio.
Saint Gregorio was born in 1019 as Dominic Garcia. He wanted to be a monk, but they told him he wasn’t smart enough for the studying. So he left to be a hermit in the forest near where the town is now. His sole concern was to make life better for pilgrims. To that end, he cleared several kilometers of very thick briars. According to legend, he was told by the owner that he could clear what he wanted for the pilgrims, but only as much as he could do in one day. So he cleared 5 k in one day. Another version is that with his scythe, he hit one tree and the others miraculously fell down. Supposedly a part of his scythe is now covered with silver and hanging above his burial memorial. I couldn’t find it, but here’s the memorial and if you look at the top, there are chains from Christians that he saved from the Moors. He also built the first bridge in the town and opened travel for people on the Camino and took away the bandits that ferried people.
The town grew from where he was buried in the middle of the Camino path in this area. The cathedral was raised over his grave and the houses gathered. Saint Gregorio of the Calzada, or Causeway. More great symbols of pilgrims, just love coming upon these. They’re throughout the cathedrals, towns and it’s interesting to see each town’s presentation.
I loved today’s walk – again. Completely alone this time, not even a brief conversation except in my head. And I even managed to quiet that down. I didn’t sleep at all last night, but when I get going in the cool morning and the farms stretch out in front of me, I just can’t believe I’m getting to do this. There was cloud cover, perfect temperature, a bit of a breeze and grapes to snack on – just one bunch! – in the morning. Then vineyards changed to wheat fields and the farmers were out in their tractors. It was beautiful with the Camino stretching out in front and a few pilgrims in front and back.
Walked almost all of today alone with occasional encounters. I couldn’t sleep from 3:45 on, so got off to an early start at 7:15. Somehow being tired and putting stuff together, feet care, all of it just ends up taking time. But – I also wouldn’t want to leave earlier than that. It’s so dark!
I found 2 peregrinos pretty quickly and walked behind, think they were German, but their pace was a lot slower than mine. Then another guy passed them and I fell in behind him. He seemed very certain of the way and since it was dark and I was happy to not be staring at my phone, I followed him. I’m ok on my own if I can see the signs, but it took a while before it got light and then it was beautiful.
Hours later, somehow we had leapfrogged each other and he caught up with me. We started talking and he had left from the main start in France, 700 km from where I started at the bottom of France. He had until Oct 15 and then would go back home from wherever he was. It truly wasn’t about the destination for him, it was the journey. He and I were chatting the usual, where are you from, etc. and I mentioned the fact that no one asks “why are you doing this?” He said, yes, it’s so private and individual that people do just seem to understand that’s not generally asked, but he was happy to tell me about his journey.
He was bored in his job, his children were finishing high school, he and his wife needed to think about what they were going to do to find new things, and he was feeling pretty lost. He talked to his parents, who had done the Camino a few years before, and they told him he needed to go do it and to do it alone. COVID and his son’s graduation held him up and then he left. He said it’s been everything for him, he has had so many creative ideas about work, thoughts about family and what he wants to do. He wants to come back and do it with his wife. He was just beaming. It was lovely.
I was back to walking by myself and came into the first small town a third of the way. I was looking for food since I hadn’t eaten anything but a few almonds (bought at DIA) and found the little town’s giant church, Iglesia de La Asunción. I was lucky because it was open and they had music playing. I stayed for 15 minutes. It was quiet, I was earlier than most and though the music in the video doesn’t sound great, in person, it was wonderful. The book was right; “Wait for the church to open or hunt up a key, because La Asunción contains one of the most stunning Baroque retablos in all of Spain. Constructed over 2 earlier temples in 1583-1625.” He then gives a full page description of how to look at the church’s offerings and it really is incredible.
What he doesn’t mention is the sacristy’s visuals, something I haven’t seen before. What looks like a coffin with Jesus off the cross. An English guy sitting in our group later said he thought it was just bizarre, “wasn’t he supposed to be risen then?”
Yep, something different. On a more cheerful note, as I was walking I passed this, the translation: “happiness is contagious.”
At this same spot, I was passing by quite an extensive park on the other side of the path. Oh – bathroom! But no. I don’t know if it’s Spain or COVID, but there are no public restrooms that I’ve found. Cafe’s come along pretty frequently and that helps. However, sometimes it’s just a little thing, but definitely would like a bathroom. And, of course, once you think of it, that’s an issue and that’s all you can think about. How can there be a park this big and no restrooms? I see what I think might be a potential building, so head that way. An older gentlemen starts talking – no, peregrino, go that way – much prettier, near the lake. His Spanish was so pretty, kind of rolling and I got most of it. Ok, I’ll do that, but is there a bathroom. Yes, yes, but go that way, it’s prettier. Ok, thank you. And it was pretty – here’s the lake: But the bathroom? He met me at the end of my path and his, which was lower, and then he showed me, giving me directions again, up the hill, on the left, don’t go to the right – that’s the men’s and yuck (don’t remember the exact word), ok, well, I’ll go that way. But wait! you have to see the fish!
Huh, guess they get fed here a lot, right? Yes, very proudly. Then he led me to the public bathroom, bless his heart. Then, I’m walking along, enjoying my breathing practice and the morning and another guy comes along, I want to practice my English, I often ask peregrinos if I can walk alongside and talk. Ok, I’ll practice my Spanish. He’d been to NY, Boston, and Buffalo. Buffalo? Less expensive and he could stay in motels. Then as he was clearly ok walking with me for as long as it took to the next town, I just said I’m going to walk alone now and off he went. Very freeing this being able to say what you’re going to do! And after nearly 18 miles, walked into the last town, Najera, and saw this sign:
I stayed put today and it was wonderful. Things still aren’t dry though they’ve been hanging all day, but they’ll be better than they would have been and clean (ish) clothes will be great.
Logrono was near the site of where St. James appeared on his white horse to help the Christians fight the Moors. It’s a large city with a core old city in the midst which is where I spent my time. From The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago: “The Spanish Inquisition, founded in 1478, did not cease operations until 1834. (Horrifying) It had a dozen or so regional tribunals, of which Logrono was one.”
Went to mass at the Iglesia de Santa Maria la Redonda with someone I’ve met up with on and off over the week. She was delighted to have company. Her hiking partner went ahead and she was taking a break and catching a taxi to the next spot later. I keep forgetting that it’s about 20 minutes by car between these stops. Tomorrow is 18 miles, I can see why she took a cab.
The mass was interesting for a few reasons. A – a mass – very different from sitting meditation. The lights were on so I could see a lot more of the church. Sat near the Mary that I thought was beautiful yesterday.
This is behind one of those side chapels so bit of a hard angle.
The best part for me of the service was the music being played while waiting for the mass to begin. The acoustics in these cathedrals are incredible. I wish they all had music playing. Then the nun came out lighting candles, putting the readings out and then the priest tottered out. And I mean tottered. I was nervous every time he rounded a corner or had to take a step up or down. When he did the communion service another priest came out and he was even more fragile, using a cane and slooowwwly making his way to the side of the first priest. Oh boy, this is not looking good for the church. There were probably 30 people total, all seemed to be active members except for Maryanne and me.
I just thought how hard it would be for this to be your comfort and mainstay and in not too long, there may not be a priest serving this church. My goodness, these churches are all over the country. What a huge change.
Most did communion, choosing whether the wafer was put in hands or tongue. Of course I was thinking of Rick the whole time and his analysis of tongues from being an altar boy 🙂
When I was talking about the service to Merv and Fiona, he said that the majority of priests world over used to be Irish raised and trained. When all of the scandals came out, 15% of all charged are/were Irish. In 2019 less than 10 men chose to be trained as priests. That’s a huge change. He was a Dublin policemen who did investigations and definitely knew what he was talking about.
But – I got to see the main cathedral in action and it was beautiful to look around and see the incredible detail of carving, painting and imagination.
Then I walked over the peregrino’s church – Iglesia de Santiago de Real. This seemed like a much more active community, lot more people, little kids, the priest was way more lively, could get up and down by himself and sang part of the service. I only caught the last bit, but was glad I went in. Somehow, this church and all of the statues and mentions in Logrono gave a feel for all the prilgrims who’ve passed this way over the 100’s of years. I’ve put photos of a statue of Santiago, the choir and the church and the pilgrim’s prayer. And tomorrow, my path starts in front of his church.
Also – final evening touch with the statues of peregrinos – in action!
Today somehow went really quickly even though it was 8 hours of walking with breaks built in – I’m learning. Don’t pass a cafe if possible, even if not with others, just eat something, get off your feet for a bit. Plus – getting to see/watch everything is still completely wonderful.
I’ve now been walking for a week and tomorrow I get the day off. I have to say, I’m totally ok with that. I put all my clothes in the bathtub – most places seem to have them here – and cleaned the lot. They’re hanging all over now and hoping they dry by tomorrow night.
I then went to a pharmacy to get more options for my feet. They had something I hadn’t see before. Little tubes you cut to size and put on your toes – she could see the blisters since I’m wearing flip flops as soon as I get my shoes off. I wonder if they stop blistering at some point? I’m kicking myself because I got new socks, thought they were the same size and they’re just a bit too big. That’s not a good thing. Well, I can still walk no problem. They really are minor compared to some of the others I’ve heard about and I’m so very easily distracted by the views, people, books on tape.
Today, got a taxi, same guy from last night who drove me here. He was here at 7:30 on the dot and again drove like lightning back to Los Arcos speaking Spanish just as rapidly. I always say si, or whatever, as if I have a clue. Sometimes I did. As in – told him no I didn’t go dancing or join the wine festival. At all. He couldn’t believe it. Dancing, are you kidding me?
Met up with 6 of the people I know in the hotel I was going to stay in, all having breakfast. The owner felt badly when he saw me again and urged me to eat. But I was fine to start off with Fiona and Merv for one more day of hiking. First sunrise on the way – other days it was too grey.
Hikers behind and in front and we’re off. We chatted until the first coffee stop in Sansol. I took a video of the little church, a very small octagonal church. It was built by Muslims for the Christians 12c, Iglesia del Santo Sepulcro. I took the video because it just astonishes me that so much time and care could be put into such a small building. It was owned by the Knights Templar. Possibly a funeral chapel since excavations around it have turned up tombs.
We had coffee and then I sent them ahead. They were walking faster than I was and I had longer to go since they were stopping in a town before Logrono, Viana.
I walked along, listening to a new book and again, just feeling so lucky. At one point, I saw a woman go into a vineyard and get some grapes. This time, I went too. She spoke almost no Spanish, but had a bit of English. She was Lithuanian and this was her 5th Camino. She said she missed last year, but always came in September because of the grapes. She mimed people who complained, and intimated that they were crazy. She just radiated joy.
The next town was Viana. The first time I’ve seen a town advertise its age in a celebration, though they probably all do.
So cool, the banner, the Camino sign and the ancient bridge. This was a really wonderful town. If I’d known more, I would have stayed here for sure. These small towns are beautiful, serene and so inviting. A lot of people I met over the week were staying here for a day. Stopped in a cafe and had a tortilla (egg, cheese, and potato pie) and a coke. Needed a bit of wake up and the tortilla was the only thing that wasn’t bread.
Then walked the rest of the way to Logrono. It felt really long, but it was probably only another 7ish miles. Got another rest at Lucia’s cafe. I asked Mr. Lucia (don’t know his name) if it was a lot of work doing the cafe and he just broke out in a huge grin. In Spanish, but “In a restaurant in Logrono, everyone’s so grumpy, hard work. Here – everyone’s happy, I love it, it’s not like work at all!” A Spanish guy came up and listened grinning, “it’s a happy life.” Mr. Lucia, “It’s a great life!”
Met up with John and Mandy here – from England, doing a bit of hop and skip around to do the Camino in a few weeks. We decided to have dinner tonight after they got in, usually after me as they take more time to chat with people they meet and stroll. Saw more welcomes to peregrinos. Along with everyone I pass on the road who all wish me a “buen Camino,” are old fountains and old and new notices to pilgrims. Here are a couple:
Maybe having a burial place on the Camino brings good luck?
Saw an interesting little wood and then walked back into Logrono after leaving this morning.
First, can I say that I am grateful for my left foot and right knee, mole skin, Hikers Goo, band aids, and Motrin – the best gift.
Totally was totally great and gave me a practice opportunity for an attitude shift.
Today was another quiet, walk alone hike with occasional chatting and listening to my book. I finished Old Path White Clouds by Thich Nhat Hanh. What a totally perfect book to listen to as I walk miles through completely beautiful country. I know I’m writing in hyperbole, but it was truly a gift of a day.
The country has shifted a bit, still all farming, but now many more vineyards, rolling hills and it’s warmer, dryer. Probably 80’s again today. Here’s one scene:
I started off walking out of Estella which was bigger than first imagined, so traffic, suburbs a bit, and talking to Summer. So nice that the time difference allows us to talk at a more reasonable time. I kept having to call her back because there would be something else diverting. The first time I realized we were off track because I’d been following three Spanish guys, assuming they knew the way so I could focus on Summer. Hmm. No signs and they’d stopped too. We looked at my map and they knew the area so we got back on track. Started talking – in English – and turns out they work doing wind turbines, getting blades from Boulder, setting up systems for people. One of them had been to Padre Island for a month to help a farmer install a windmill. I couldn’t believe he had a month in the states and that’s where he was. Small world to have geographical connections with them.
Then I saw the forger that I’d read about. Really nice guy, he’d followed his father’s blacksmithing, but his grandfather was a farmer. He had 2 sons and a dog – just saw the photo of 3 generations so talked about that a bit and about his work. In Spanish!
Then shortly after that, saw the vineyard that I’d read about, the Monastery of Irache with its Fuente del Vino (fountain of wine). I’d been thinking that was figurative, but nope. Also – Bodega means ‘vineyard’ here rather than a little store.
That’s the monastery behind me, but sadly, opened at 10 and it was 9:30. Gotta keep moving. I would like to have seen it because it’s still pretty complete, a town of its own in its heyday.
Continued after a short hot chocolate and ham and cheese sandwich break in the little town. I knew there wasn’t any support for food or water after that for about 9 miles. And – that’s the only way to get to use the WC. The town was Villamayor de Monjardin. Courtesy of The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago, “It was the last major stronghold of the Banu Qasi Muslims in this region until King Sancho Garces captured it in 914.” Look at it! The effort to build it and then, really? Go up to it and capture it? Incredible.
Back to hiking. One thing that’s astonishing – have I written this? – is the amount of tissue paper by the side. Do people think it’s organic? And really? Right there? That being said, there’s very little trash other than those sightings. And the towns are immaculate.
Just when I was starting to get hot and thinking of pulling out the apple I’d been carrying since St. Jean Pied de Port, I saw 2 guys cross over the track and down the bank. Bathroom break? But then I saw them in the vineyard and one of them was eating some grapes. I asked if they were ready and they said yes, did I want any? Is that ok? Sure! They were French so figured they knew their vineyard etiquette. Oh my – the best treat. I ate one at a time because of the seeds and there were so many grapes in the bunch that I was able to walk this whole track and had only eaten half. Eating the grape and spitting the seeds. So satisfying! Then passed a guy with a big pack looking really tired and hot. I asked him if he wanted the rest. “Oh no, I have food, just too tired to stop.” “Well, take these, my hands were clean when I started and they’re great.” I stopped to clean my hands with a bit of my water and when I caught up again, he had a big grin, “these are great! I’ve never had them.” So fun.
Finished my book and was enjoying the silence for a long time. Just when my feet/knees/legs were signaling enough already, met up with a woman from Monument, CO. She was great. We talked the rest of the way and she and I agreed that it made the last miles go much more quickly. In her 70’s, had biked the whole thing 20 years ago and said it went too fast. She’d always wanted to go back when she had time and realized, she better go before she ran out of time! She is winging it day by day. Making reservations a day or two ahead, sometimes just doing the hostels. She had her bag carried, but arranged it day by day as well in case she wanted to stay extra days here or there. She thought she might start carrying it at some point, but it still felt like too much right now. Amazing.
Then I walked into Los Arcos while she looked for her papers to figure out her hotel. Clearly siesta time. Amazing how ghost town these old villages are during that 2-4pm break. I was so happy to be there. Got there at 2, could take a shower, and get that great big lunch that I love. Plus the town was what is fast becoming my favorite kind, small, ancient, accessible.
And there’s the restaurant. Plus all the people I know would be gathering to chat and catch up. So fun. BUT went to the hotel around the corner from the church and he said my reservation had been canceled by the agency. I’d completely forgotten that a few weeks before I left I was suddenly informed that the hotels had canceled my reservation in a few places so I was going to be shuttled. But he said, no, here’s your reservation, I don’t know why they canceled. And the place was full. I was so hot and tired and couldn’t see waiting until 5 when I was going to be picked up, nor did I want to have the happy gathering if I couldn’t stay, so I got a taxi earlier and went on to Logrono. 17 minutes to drive (he was very fast) the 17.5 I’ll be walking tomorrow.
Definitely a practice opportunity to not be attached to my preconceptions or expectations. Oy, practicing hard. Especially when I realized Logrono is a big city, the hotel was a business efficient hotel with walls 1 inch thick so that I could share my neighbor’s TV experience and no charm. And I’d lost my peeps a day early. Sigh.
So I’ve rallied now. Walked the ancient city, and finally got to sit and have quiet time in a beautiful old church (you’re probably rolling your eyes). One thing that I’m starting to appreciate is that the doors are just absolute works of art. Here’s where I sat, the doors behind me and Mary in front. An old guy was there too and we had about half an hour before tourists starting walking through, though quietly because of the “Silencio” signs.
The Iglesia de Sant Maria la Redonda, built between 15th and 16 c, but with decorations into the 1700’s. This is actually the area behind the choir – basically a second church. Much lighter and more appealing (I thought) than the bigger main church on the other side.
Last night I got in to the hotel that had a restaurant as well and I was starving, so had a big lunch around 4 – just in time before they change to sandwiches. The salad of tomatoes was giant and incredible – from their garden. I would love this to be a regular thing, two days now had an amazing lunch and then didn’t need anything else after.
A fellow American, Rick – dentist from Kerrville – sat down near the end of my lunch and had a beer. It became a musical chairs table for a lot of the people we knew. I left to get a shower and make myself look at the churches and town, happily tiny, so little more walking. Found Fiona and we sat back down at the table with Murv (turns out it’s Merv as in Mervyn, not Murph as in Murphy) and others. Then we were there until 9:00 just chatting with people walking up and down the street. Well, I was just chatting, everyone else was having beer and wine with their chat. Don’t know HOW they walk the next day.
Today, met Fiona and Merv at breakfast and off we went. Beautiful full moon over the church on our way out of town.
Then 2 blocks later hit the bridge that the queen of Navarre built for the town in the 11th c. Until then there were ferries that helped/swindled the pilgrims as they tried to cross the Arga River.
And off to Estella. The tiny town with the GIANT churches. It’s a truly wonderful little town, “one of the most charming on the Camino.”
I didn’t take too many photos during the walk. Talking with Fiona and Merv all the way, I actually was much more distracted than usual. Realized when I’m listening to my book, I’m paying attention to it, but also watching everything around me and noticing interesting buildings, people, etc.
I actually was distracted enough that I left my poles in two places and Merv saved me. Actually, that was how we’d met the first day when I was so focused on a giant slug that I walked off after my photo and they called me and gave my poles. Today, we came across this guy who had an olive grove and a fruit stand. For a donation you could get something and I was really hungry. He had cold perfect fresh cut melon, so so good. The whole scene was great. I thought I got it on video, but nope. So Fiona and I walked off while Merv was chatting with another Irish woman. Engrossed in Fiona’s stories of teaching, I didn’t even realized I’d left my poles for ages. Then we were going up a slope and I suddenly realized. Oh, good grief, cursed, turned and there was Merv grinning with my poles and they were laughing, saying they wondered how long it would take me. Then I did it AGAIN. This time remembered quickly, but again Merv behind us had the poles. Oy. So – now – when I stop, I’m tucking them into a loop on my bag.
Here’s Fiona on a bridge where a story was written by a pilgrim in the 12c. Unfortunately, I don’t have the exact wording, lost the page – but again from The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago. A pilgrim and his friend saw bandits who had skinned the horses of pilgrims who’d gone by – only if they died. The bandits told the pilgrim and his friend that the water was safe and they let their horses drink. Within a short distance, both horses died and the bandits skinned them and kept the money. Rough life being a pilgrim. I guess harder on the horses…
Finally, walked into Estella. Walked by the Church of the Holy Sepulcre, incredible stone work, but doors were closed. A lot of churches if closed, open half an hour before mass. All we could think was that we would have to walk BACK if we wanted to see it. The last mile always feels forever.
My foot was getting very cranky from the hot spot and I was so hot, 82 when we walked into town. But – showered, put on flip flops and off I went. I was so hungry and very anticipatory for another great late lunch, but I got turned around and missed the timing, too late. Had a couple of little sandwiches and then went to explore more giant churches. This one is the most famous, San Pedro de la Rua, 12th to 13th century. There’s a beautiful cloister with two of the original walls and the church felt really calm and nice. I love it when there’s music playing. Took a video this time and you can kind of hear the music. I then thought there must be another church. It looked so big from below. But no, giant safe fortress place with fairly small church inside.
Beautiful, right? Last church is 12c Church of San Miguel, right next to my hotel. I was so glad to get back close. Took a couple of Mary photos, couldn’t resist the one from Ecuador. Looked her up, but only found Spanish so got a gist, but will look again.
I realize that when I put mileage, that doesn’t count when I walk around the towns. And those walks are an effort – just want to sit. But one day in a town and I want to see.
Actually Puente la Reina was wonderfully small. My hotel was an ancient building with a rabbit warren of rooms and very weak Wi-Fi, so lost the post I made yesterday. Amazing that I have to look at my photos to remember what we did and then it comes back.
I loved this day – all alone with brief conversations with a few people, always saw people I knew by name when I stopped at cafes and joined them. Stopped twice today, but other than that listened to my book and marched along. My longest conversation (in Spanish!) was with a woman from Valencia that I’d had brief interactions with a couple of times yesterday. She was great. As far as the walking, I thought it was the hardest day on the feet because there were a number of miles that looked like this:
But, of course, there were a variety of paths and so many beautiful scenes.
This is heading toward the ridge with the windmills. Tore down an ancient village to build them, but the books don’t say much about the loss. And they do have energy! This is where there is a row of bronze pilgrims that’s quite wonderful. I’m a bit hunched over in the photo because it was blowing and my feet hurt courtesy of those rocks. But it was fun because I ended up taking about 15 people’s photos once I got going and was then told in about 5 languages to get a jacket! People really are nice since there’s this bond of being a peregrino (pilgrim). The photo after the pilgrim photo is what you could see behind the statues.
One of the littlest villages I walked through had a very small church with a beautiful Mary and child – the notes said Flemish which you could tell from the sweet smile. The church looks giant in the photo, but it’s only big enough for about 10 rows of benches. Outside the church were a couple of guards/policemen. Then I took a look at the car and realized they were for the pilgrims, first I’ve seen it. They are the inheritors of the traditions of the Knights of Templar and Knights of St. John, who started in order to protect the pilgrims to both Santiago and to Jerusalem. I took a photo of the car and one of the guys gave me a card. Hope I don’t need it!
Weird juxtaposition there.
The markings generally have been amazing all along the way, different towns sometimes implementing their own style. Only once did I get a bit stumped and for the first time no peregrinos were anywhere. After a couple of minutes a French woman came and we conferred and finally pulled out phones. We then talked for a bit, she’s been doing this since 2014 in two week increments with some years off. But she started at the beginning – the real beginning – outside of Paris. Wow.
Finally, on this day, someone – American probably – had written messages in some of the yellow arrows that we follow along with the blue with yellow star/shell signs. One said “walk, don’t reach.” Good reminder.
Reb's Walks! 