She's Gone Walkabout

We left Los Arcos under a cloudless star filled sky. At 6.20 the morning air was very crisp and the ends of my fingers were tingling with cold. It was a very dark morning and we wouldn’t have gone anywhere without our head light. But it did look beautiful with the distant twinkling of town lights and the breaking dawn behind us.

We passed a cemetery with the prophetic inscription of

Yo que fui lo que tu eres, tu seras lo que yo soi

I once was what you are, you will be what I am

A couple of images from our walk today.

We arrived by lunchtime at Viana today. We are staying at the Parochial albergue of Inglesia de Santa Maria XIIIth century. In front of the church’s doorway is the tomb of Casare Borgia.

This pretty town is larger than many on the Camino with a population of 4000. It’s historical centre has little changed since medieval times.

Currently being restored is the 13th century Gothic church-fortress Church of San Pedro. It was seriously damaged in the first Carlist war. From here there are excellentviews over the Ebro valley.

For the past couple of days I have been unable to charge my camera batteries. Of the three I bought with me I was down to my last half battery. IT Dave was there for me. With a straight face he quietly told me that I had been putting the batteries in back to front.

Sleepy Dave left the Parochial Albergue this morning after a good breakfast but a bad nights sleep. Young Patrick overnight had according to Sleepy Dave become the Olympic Snoring campion. Even downstairs in the bathroom young Patrick could be heard. Me. I didn’t hear a thing. Guess my hearing-or lack of- has its advantages so I had had a good nights sleep.

It was 7:30 before we left this morning because of the wonderful hospitality supplied by hospeleras Pam, an Aussie from Sydney and Maria, a fun filled Spaniard.

On our way and passing through an underpass I was happy to see at the end a familiar mural. This huge mural was here four years ago and has aged well. So many things make me feel like I am coming home again.

We passed through Ermitage de la Trinidad de Cuevas near a tributary of the river Ebro. It was once the site of a pilgrim hospice run by the Trinitarian Order of nuns. The low meadows of this area during the 16th century were also notorious for gatherings of witches covens.

We have now entered the wine region of Rioja. Vineyards aplenty and now a gradual but long climb up the northern side of a Cantabrian Hill Cerro de Cantabrigians. This is near the Roman excavation site of the prehistoric city of Cantabria.

Logroño. One of the larger cities on the Camino and not easy to traverse. But the people here would have to be by far the friendliest and nicest peoples we have met. Passing locals would give us a friendly Buen Camino. Several times when locals saw us uncertain or studying a map they would point us in the right direction or explain, as in one case, that we had the map backwards. Oops.

We are spending the night in Navarrete, another historic town with many original period houses. The Church of the Assumption is the center piece of the town and its interior quite spectacular.

We finished the day with a home cooked meal and a bottle of Rioja…of course.

Our first contact with rain today. Well wet weather anyway as it was only a light drizzle but the clouds were telling a different story. With all of the beautiful weather that we had been having we had been lulled into a false sense of security and our wet weather gear had been delegated to the bottom of our backpacks. Now in the half morning light all our gear was stacked on the side of the path leading out of town as we retrieved our backpack covers and waterproof jackets. Thankfully two hours later the rain had cleared, but lesson learnt.

Indiana Dave took me exploring in the old part -a lot of it ruins- of Najera this afternoon. Set up against the incredible layered mountain backdrop it seemed other worldly.

We are doing a slow walk across Spain and averaging about 21 kilometers a day. So far we have walked over 200 kilometres and still have about 575 to go. According to Fitbit, last week we climbed the equivalent of 801 floors…it seemed a lot more to me.

We stayed last night in Azofra. A nice little town with a declining population of 250 residents. Like many of the smaller towns on the Camino it owes much of its existence to the pilgrims on the Camino. From 1168 Azofra has had a pilgrim hostel. In medieval times there were several pilgrim hospitals here and from the 12th century a pilgrim cemetery. Today there is a modern new albergue with double rooms. A nice stay over.

On our way. 15 k’s with one town between before we reach Santo Domingo de la Calzada. Mostly we walked over rocky paths through farm lands, vineyards and fields of green beans and swedes – I think. And in the middle of a long stretch over gently undulating hills, chairs.

On a hill just before reaching Santo Domingo de la Calzada there is a new monument to Santo Domingo. It reads 1019-2019. It is dedicated to the millennium anniversary of Saint Dominic who dedicated his life to helping the pilgrims on their way to Santiago de Compostela during the 11th century. Domingo García was born in 1019. He was illiterate and because of this he apparently was not accepted to his chosen calling as a monk. He still wanted to follow his calling so he built a pilgrim hospital and a church. His church has evolved to become the city’s Cathedral and his Spirit is still alive today in the albergue that bears his name. There are many stories and traditions associated with Santo Domingo and one of the traditions that still exists is the live cock in the cathedral’s cage. If you visit the cathedral you can still find a live cock in a cage but now you are unable to pluck one of its feathers for luck.

Turtle Dave decided to stop and take a few photos of the ceiling at the cathedral. Umm can you give me a bit of a push Turtle Dave asked.

Walking through the old town of Santo Domingo de la Calzda was fascinating. There was history everywhere.

We continued on to our destination of Grannon. On a hill before reaching Granon was the cross of la Cruz de los la Valientes. Local legend states that there was a dispute between Grañón and Santo Domingo over a piece of land which lay between the two towns. Instead of all out war each town chose one fighter each and the winner would claim the land for their town. Martin Garcia an ordinary man was chosen for Granon while Santo Domingo chose a professional fighter. By unconventional means Martin won. The place of the fight is commemorated by the cross on the hill.

Rung Out Dave stumbled – literally – down the stairs and out onto the street this morning at 7 a.m.. We had stayed in the old church of Saint Juan Bautista in Granon. We were offered loving hugs from the hospitalera but no sello – stamp for our credentials. What no sello? But you do get a hug. And she hugged me again. But I want my sello. I smiled at her and she smiled back at me. When it looked like I was about to get another hug I relented. When I had gone to bed on the thin mattress on the floor that had been supplied as our bed for the night I had turned off my hearing aid, promptly gone to sleep and heard nothing more. No such luck for Rung Out Dave. Every half hour the church bell had struck once and every full hour it had struck the hour. So by seven even after breakfast Rung Out Dave was still half asleep.

Three kilometres later and we were heading into Redecilla del Camino and towards black thunderous looking clouds. I wasn’t too worried as yesterday had looked the same but had cleared to a cool but rainless day. By eight we were passing fields of drooping sunflowers that were still able to smile.

Along the way there is always something new or interesting or different. Met a couple of casual locals.

By eleven we we’re exploring Belorado a town thought to have started out as a Celtic settlement well before the arrival of the Romans. Belorado is situated between the two rivers of Tiron and Verdeancho. Ancient cave dwelling once homes to hermits dot the limestone cliffs which are a backdrop to the town. To the left of the XIVth century church of Santa Maria a modernised cave dwelling.

On our way and following the arrows had us walking over brass plaques of famous people. A nice addition to the city streets.

Belorado s a delightfully interesting town. Large murals of all descriptions cover walls of all descriptions. Nearly out of Belorado and an odd sign on a small wall. Wall-King forward 15 steps then look back. OK. 1,2…14,15. turn. Oh wow.

I walked over this guy sunning himself on the Camino. At the end of the day I told everyone about my encounter with the two meter snake. But now I come to look at the picture I’m thinking maybe it was a tad smaller than that.

We had decided that our stop for the day would be Tosantos one town out of Belorado, a population of 60 with a parochial and a small albergue. We arrived at the albergue to be told that everything was booked out because there was a big party in town. I began to worry. The next town was only two kilometres away but there was only one albergue there and it only had 14 beds. If everyone was being pushed down the line we might not get a bed and have to move on again. For two kilometres I was a little worried and pushed poor Rung Out Dave to the limit. As it was there was no need to worry and we had a great stay at the little albergue with a beautiful host and wonderful Camino friends. So maybe things just work out for the best.

In Villambistia at the San Rogue municipal albergue. And the end of another different day.