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AAAAANNNDD WE'RE BACK!
When we last left our heroine, she was cold, wet, hungry, tired, and reeeeeally cranky about a ten hour walk in the rain. Let's find out what happened next, shall we?
STARTING TO WINE
As I set out the next day into a (thankfully!) bright, sunny, if cold morning, I happened upon Melissa from Toronto, whom I first met Day 2 in Roncesvalles, and then shared a space age bunk with in Pamplona two days later. She's the lovely 26 year old who not only lives in my neighborhood in Toronto, she used to live on Walmer for a time as well. We started the day walking together for a little while, to the famous fountain of Irache. What makes it famous? It dispenses red wine! Seriously! And not even the bad churchy wine either...quite decent. Unfortunately, it being 8 in the morning, having red wine for breakfast is a bit much, so we just had a sample to enjoy the experience...but if you want to see for yourselves, go to www.irache.com and see the live webcam they keep on the fountain 24/7.
Unburdened by a bag as big as mine, or years as many as mine, the sprightly Melissa trotted off ahead from there and we joined the exodus of pilgrims wending into Navarre's wine country. It was a lot of hills up and down into the next two towns (why did we all think the Day 1 mountain would be the end of all hills? Hill, no!). Eventually, though, the Camino settled into a valley and wended through 12K of open countryside, just vast green fields and forests for acres all around. It was like that all the way to Los Arcos, which was the next town and, at 20K, many people's destination for the day.
I have to say though, I didn't love Los Arcos. Maybe because the trail enters through what can only be called the ass-end of the town, and for a long time looks like the back alleys of low rises in Rosemont in Montreal, it wasn't very appealing until it got to the tiny central square and admittedly impressive piazza. Also, there was a weirdly inordinate number of cats. Like, okay, I like cats; I'm a cat person. But 24 strays crossing my path in 15 minutes was just a bit crazy. So since it was only a little after 2 pm, and I was still feeling surprisingly strong on only a handful of nuts, a soft drink and an apple,I decided to shave some time off the next day's
intimidating looking route and go ahead to the next town. That added 7K over open farmland under suddenly blazing afternoon sun, so I arrived quite fatigued, but all I wanted to do was crash in the little American frontier-styled (?) albergue with the floors as rolling as the terrain, and go to bed without any supper.
I got a solid night's sleep and pushed on through another frigid morning (gloves! Glad I brought them!) over three hours of wine farmland toward the pretty town of Viana. For fans of the TV series THE BORGIAS (or, possibly, history) , this is where Cesare Borgia -- the hot Borgia -- is entombed. I rested here briefly, long enough to massage my feet, and then continued on through another inexplicably broiling afternoon in unsheltered farmland to Logrono, capital of the Rioja wine region and proud of it.
Logrono is a wonderfully contemporary city,one that has integrated its medieval past with a happening modern vibe in a way that reminds me of some English university towns. It also embraces pilgrim culture, starting with a pretty paved walkway into the city along the Ebro that invites us wanderers to stop and rest and eat and drink well, and which leads directly to a pilgrims' info booth. We've all remarked that some places appreciate the daily influx of foreigners more than others, and Logrono is a welcome example of how to capitalize on our numbers.
I snagged one of the last bunks in the municipal albergue, allowed myself a nap before my shower, and then decided to enjoy the late afternoon with a walkabout. I wandered around the centre, getting my bearings and having a 3 Euro soft drink on the Plaza Mercado, and thinking about getting something to eat. I really don't eat much on the road or after, but in the cities I like to go out a bit and enjoy local fare. Matt had told me this is a tapas capital of the country, so on his suggestion I looked for Calle Laurel, a string of tapas bars side by side crowded into a narrow passage and the heart of the food district.
Upon finding it, I had shredded bull's tail at one place, then wandered over a few doors to have some octopus and the house specialty "hamburghersita" (apparently Spanish for "sliders"). While there, I overheard English voices commenting on how nice it was to get away from the pilgrim menus usually offered (a discount meal offered to those of us with the passport), and remarked that I agreed. The two guys, Brian from England and Thomas from Germany, invited me to join them, and so we had a great evening of swapping stories about Camino life (Brian, like me, regrets his overpacking, while Thomas not only has a spreadsheet listing the weight of his stuff, he can accurately guess the grams anything in your pockets weighs. We are trying to work out how he can make money from this.)
We made one more stop, to a place Matt said is a must: mushroom house Bar Angel, where the specialty is three cooked mushroom caps drizzled with garlic butter and topped with a tiny shrimp. So simple, and SO GOOD! Thanks Matt!
Albergues have curfews so that pilgrims get decent rest, so I skittered off a little after 9 to get in some wi fi time before crashing at 10. Apparently I missed a big street party by the various costumed university students out on a Saturday night, but I was quite happy with the evening all the same.
The four glasses of wine had me sleeping lightly,which meant that the early birds packing up at 4 am woke me a bit, but I managed to doze till 6 with the rest of the room and hit the road at just after 7. Another three hour freezing cold morning walk under gray skies got me to to the town of Navarrete. As I happened, Sunday mass was underway, so I slipped in -- and gasped. This tiny hilltop town has a massive Gothic cathedral like Viana -- but the nave is covered with gold work, some hundred feet of it! -- and I gasped at the sight of such brilliance in the otherwise gloomy church in the middle of nowhere. Like a true pilgrim of yore, I took refuge far in the back of the church to rest my feet as mass ended, and returned to walking soon after.
The 2 hour walk to Ventosa was a bit warmer, and I decided to stay a lot longer to give my feet a proper rest. Brian and Thomas happened upon me (they left a good hour and a half after I did, which tells you how slow I am... I'm up to about 4 km an hour, which is better than last week, but still people always pass me!) We hung out and chatted a while and then headed out for the last 11K to our final destination of Najera. The landscape opened up into something quite gaspworthy: snow capped mountains in the distance ringing a vast valley of rust coloured vineyards and green fields on all sides. No panorama camera shot could do the view justice...it was breathtaking.
We traipsed through the scenery for another hot two and a half hours and finally found Najera a little after 4:30pm. It didnt look like much at first, but soon opened up to a pretty centre that is reminiscent somehow of Amsterdam.
After a short soothing barefoot walk in wonderfully cool grass in the riverside park, I found a place to stay and am happy doing laundry. (I do laundry every day, and have rarely been so excited about having clean clothes. It means a lot when your options are limited and I cheerfully pay a premium NOT to use a sink, but get a washing machine and dryer. Even with modern technical fabrics, air drying is annoying). Soon I will go have a nice real dinner (pilgrim menu, but three courses) and prepare for the push onwards tomorrow. After today's 30K, it should go easily, especially now that we are in much flatter terrain at last, and I should be in Burgos on Thursday... More big city time!
BODY OF WORK
A thought plucked from the many I've been having as I walk. One of the challenges I was assigned asked me to consider my blessings as I walk, and one I would like to single out is my body. Like a lot of women, I've found loads to critique about my bag of bones over the years... It's too short, too round, too irregular, etc etc etc. But on this trip, my corporeal self has disregarded all the years of chiding and neglect, and is quietly delivering what I ask of it. It carries an unusually heavy burden day after day, and walks farther than I have ever asked it to. My feet literally carry the weight of my world on them, without blistering, and all they ask is some rest at intervals, a good rub every few hours before hitting the ground again, and some hot shower water when possible to ease the muscles. My heart is strong and holding up despite the irregularities of the exertion, my vision is clear, my legs are working, my arms help by pumping the poles. It may not be pretty or perfect, my body, but I find myself proud of and grateful for it for delivering on what I ask it to do during this biggest challenge ever --easily bigger than the marathon. So that is just one of the many blessings I've counted, but because I am so mindful of how I am relying on it every day, I just wanted to give it a little shout out of appreciation.
And that's all! If you're interested, there are also some new photos of people and places mentioned here.
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