There is gold in the smallest of places.

I just happened to find a bar full of working men in Los Arcos. I ordered the hugest G&T and sat with my iPad…because of course the first question is “Do you have WiFi?”…If they do…I stay and buy..mmmm. I was thrilled that Paul and Fiona said have dinner with us as their hotel had a restaurant…but it didn’t have a washing line outside the window. I’m grateful for small mercies.

It did occur to me that this wasn;t what I had paid for so in the nicest possible way, I rang Ireland …as you do…and pointed out that accommodation seemed to be going downhill a little. Patricia was lovely on the phone and immediately said that there had been cancellations and they had changed my Sunday accommodation. It is quite busy with pilgrims arriving at every hostel, hourly…so I was happy.

I though I may as well pop into the huge church that dominated the village. Everything was built around it, cafes etc. I pushed open the wooden door and the inside was like a golden palace. The interior was huge with fading old gold everywhere. I never ceased to be amazed. An older lady had dusters on her shoes and was quietly polishing the floor by rubbing one shoe over and over the same place….but I was hungry, so after a few centime coins and lighting up a few electric candles that flickered tentatively..the electricity often goes off everywhere, I went for dinner.

 

Dinner in Los Arcos before Logrono

I made 5 at dinner and apart from Paul and Fiona who have diligently looked after me and included me in everything, we had met up with the Swiss couple, Jean-Pierre and Annemarie. Jean-Pierre or JP….he was the one who said he didn’t like the wine the night before but that it was alright!!  Tonight the wine was his choice…he liked it. I liked all of it which doesn’t make me sound discriminating does it.  Every meal has been 3 courses, a pilgrim menu, and there have been no complaints because I think by now I am a true pilgrim.  I haven’t had any Epiphany moments like a few people I have talked to..they have said things like…I feel clearer, its been so good for me,isn’t this wonderful…I think I am still scratching my head and thinking how I can get my body to move and if I need another Compeed plaster on that toe.  Standing up after a day’s walking takes all my concentration.  I an clearly not saved yet!!

I amble back to my Bijoux boarding place. You get your days into a fine art routine.  Arrive and hover on one leg whilst the Maitre takes your passport details and stamps your credential (Pilgrim passport that proves you have arrived there) You collapse in the room with your case that has travelled ahead and sling your huge backpack and all its water down on the floor. Opening your case is difficult but you manage it because you have to take out stuff to do your washing with, providing the sink is big enough. Shoes off, socks off, legs up in the air. Rest for a while then roll into the shower or bath, you feel a little better, its probably only 4.30 but the need to find a bar is strong. Your excuse is that you have to write it all down before you forget it. Olives and nuts go down well before dinner. I listen to everyone and watch the bar TV of cycling…on everywhere …and wait for my epiphany.

Tomorrow is massive. It’s 31 or so Kilometres to Logrono !!!! I’ve stayed for the night there before and thought it was lovely. I have changed my mind on that one.!!

We set off together the next morning but the distance is enormous after feeling tired anyway….and miles to go….one step at a time..

Towards Logrono…is Viana and the FIESTA!!!

Yes I’m shatttered and ready for some lunch as we enter Viana. At first, I am impressed that everyone is dressed in white with a red sash or necktie.  Paul is the leader and points out the small bullring to our left.

OhOh…I hope its not today.  We scramble with difficulty through all the townsfolk who squeeze through Viana, the place where Cesar Borgia is buried….he commissioned Leonardo da Vinci to work for him….I’m impressed. Just outside the cathedral doors in a narrow street that opened up onto a square…we dump our bags at the cafe and hope to be served.  Silly girl…you are in the middle of a fiesta..You have to go inside and get it yourself…?

Well watch the video. It was crazy..people everywhere, music from the square, children on shoulders…its a monument to community life. Next to me is a table of well dressed gold Rolex ladies all having tapas. Wow, I feel like staying here….but we have to move on…we miss the bull run thankfully…..

Logrono lowered my expectations.

It was such a long way into Logrono and then it was kilometres of  city streets. I think 30 kilometres in a day seemed far to much for my feet.  I was staying in a different hotel to Paul and Fiona but as I waited like a limp prawn at the reception desk, there were hoots and screams from the restaurant. There was a wedding…how lovely but I needed a bath and some food.

No, the restaurant was closed I was told by the meticulously coiffured male receptionist. I was mortified….and the bar was closed and the heavens opened. I mean it was a storm like nothing else… a real deluge.  There was  nothing for it but to bathe and get out. Flip flops didn’t work on the tiled pavements and if I had possessed any attractiveness in the past it had now well and  truly left me. I resembled Mother Theresa on a bad day with out her holiness. The two minute walk was 10 and I was still in no man’s land in a back city street. A young couple jumped out of a taxi in the pouring rain so I jumped in.

“Any restaurant will do close to here” I said. I tried not to sound desperate.

The pain in my feet and my swelling toes was the worst I had experienced so far and Logrono offered no respite or joy. It seemed as though the town was out for a Saturday night revel and us travellers were just in the way. I decided to grab a taxi back and sleep till I woke.  That’s what I thought, but my 2 favourite people texted to say that it was another long day tomorrow so how about skipping breakfast and setting off about 6am.

Well, how could I refuse, alone in this revelling city with miles of streets to cover…I was happy to say ‘yes’. The partying never stopped..it went on ….

Leaving Logrono to Najera

An early morning start made me realise how vulnerable I can be. The way out was very obscured and every corner carried partygoers in various states of tiredness and drunkenness We picked our way through a bleak industrial estate that was looming and sinister and like a ‘no man’s land’.

It was a completely different place to the beautiful Pyrenees with bells on the horses and goats and tiny villages dressed with geraniums on every balcony and warm welcoming faces. I shivered and was so grateful to Paul striding ahead and being confident of the way. We climbed away from the city only to find a beautiful lake and park high above the city. It was sunrise.  We were on our way to Najere.

You always start out quite fresh and can cover 4-5 kilometres each hour but at. The end of day when the sun is up and the pace changes. It might seem slow to some people but this is now day 8 of constant walking.  Maybe I didn’t train enough?  Leaving Logrono was beautiful but the way was long.