A Pilgrimage Walk from Le Puy-en-Velay to Santiago de Compostela, 2003. 8. Sixth Week (30 May-5 June)
Pilgrimage walk from Le Puy-en-Velay to Santiago de Compostela, 2003. Week 6 (30 May-5 June)
Friday, 30 May, 2003. Puente la Reina. [Day 36. In Spain, Day 3]
6:35 pm. We’re staying in a large hostel at the north edge of this small city, a hostel sponsored by los Padres Reparadores.
Books: For accommodations and food in Spain, we’re now using David Wesson, The Camino Francés, an excellent guidebook published by the The Confraternity of St. James, London. For the route, Alison Raju’s The Way of St. James also from the CSJ, London, is still our bible, as it has been since our start in Le Puy-en-Velay.
And indeed it was. We walked through the entire city, crossed the famous 11th-century Bridge of the Pilgrims, the “Puente de los Peregrinos,” over the Arga River,
and were out of town and well up a hot, blindingly white, broad road with nothing in sight when I stopped and said to Caroline, “This is way too far from town. Let's go back to that first hostel.”
“You were right,” I said to the manager. She was amused and has given us extra kindness (she is kind to all, patient with those who know no Spanish). Wesson's guidebook needs an updating: The hostel is clean (redone during the year just past, perhaps?) with only 2-tier bunk beds, but it is short on toilets. A large, attractive garden in the back has a huge section with clotheslines.
At this hostel we have been reunited with the two Dutchmen “Yap” and “Ko” (spelling?), men in their late 50s, I'm guessing. We last saw them in Moissac. They have come by the Arles trail, which crosses the Pyrenees east of St. Jean-Pied-de-Port and joins the main route here.
Today: once again, the weather was clear, sunny, and hot. 28° C? Unusually warm for this time of year, we have been told. I now see clouds appearing; perhaps a change will come soon.
This morning we found without difficulty a bar in Pamplona that was open for breakfast: cafe con leche + a croissant and a pain au raisin. The morning walk took us up to a crest of hills studded with high tech windmills, for electricity.
Then down we continued, from the crest down to Puente la Reina with other villages in the plain. The countryside is drier than on the Pamplona side, more California-like.
Churches are closed when we pass by, which is a pity. This is a contrast with France, where churches are open. Another contrast with France, this one positive: public fountains of drinking water are frequent.
Have I written this before? Even if I have, let me say it again: Walking on this “chemin” (“camino,” here in Spain) is a metaphor for the journey through life – sometimes joyous through beautiful countryside, sometimes hard going, on rocky trails ascending or descending, in rain, in heat – and wondering “Why am I doing this?” Sometimes plans work out, sometimes not. Sometimes the unanticipated brings wonderful results.
Saturday, 31 May, 2003. Estella. [Day 37. In Spain, Day 4]
We arrived at the albergue in Estella at 3:15 pm, having left Puente la Reina about 8:30 am (after breakfast in a panadería, and a slight pause in order to photograph the famous “Bridge of the Pilgrims”). Again, a hot day. We were tempted to walk on for another 8 km to Villamayor, but without guarantee that there would be two places in the 20-place hostel. I’m glad we decided to stay here. The heat was getting to me again, and my right leg, the lower part, was bothering me. We have beds in a large, well-aired room (I hope the windows won’t be closed tonight). I was able to do yoga, shave, shower, and wash clothes, and still have time to have a walk around this interesting city.
Caroline and I visited the Palace of Navarran kings (now housing the tourist office and an art museum that features paintings by a local artist, Gustavo de Maeztu y Whitney, 1887-1947; his paintings are colorful, at least).
(photo from the internet: www.noticiasdenavarra.com)
After this, we saw the church of San Miguel with lively sculpture in its Romanesque portal,
in front of which people were sweeping up confetti tossed at the end of a wedding;
stopped in a food market (for tomorrow’s picnic) and a pharmacy (for anti-dehydration powder); and went into San Pedro de la Rua, a church located at the top of a long flight of steps,
with an unusual Romanesque-Gothic interior with three main niches in the apse for statues, instead of the grandiose gilt retables seen elsewhere.
For dinner we went to a bar just after 7 pm, before restaurants serve dinner, and ordered tapas: salads, “patates brava,” cod in sauce with sweet peppers, sweet red peppers filled with ground meat, and two large meat balls (albondigas), two glasses of red wine each, and coffees – for €30.25 + 2.75 tip = €33. Somewhat more expensive than a proper restaurant meal, but much tastier than yesterday's dinner (see below).
This hostel has several benches outside, on the street. Several of us are sitting here, chatting. It’s now 9:20 pm, and this hostel will be shut at 10 pm. It’s still light, but cloudy, for the most part.
The walk today started with a serious climb, uncomfortable because of the high humidity. I was drenched in sweat.
Later, the air turned drier. The walk for the rest of the day was nice – through villages, through fields of wheat, etc.
We stopped at 11:30 am in Lorca for a snack of cookies (and now also salted nuts, common here in Spain). A little fair was in full sway, with music and big blown up plastic figures and forms, a delight for children. Not far beyond, at Villatuerta, a marriage of a rich couple from Madrid was about to take place (the grandmother came from this town, we learned). Fancy cars and elegantly dressed men and women were arriving as we crossed in front of the church. Locals were sitting on stone benches in the garden of the church, watching the spectacle. We ate our picnic a short distance later, in the shade of a small chapel. Shade is definitely at a premium these days. [Note: We met Chantal and Marie-Paule here, who would be off-and-on companions for the rest of the pilgrimage.]
From time to time people we cross wish us “Buen viaje!” or “Buen camino!” Others, especially in the larger towns, ignore us as we pass. We pilgrims must be so numerous that we scarcely draw a glance.
* * * * * * * * *
Last night’s dinner, in Puente la Reina: a €9 “menu” (3-course meal) – salad, and plate with French fries, thin slices of pork, and a fried egg (all of which I salted heavily), and natillas (a Spanish custard). A TV was on, with bullfighting (corrida de toros). Also news of an ETA attack in a town in Navarra.
Vincent has reappeared! (Vincent, our red-headed fellow pilgrim, from Belgium). Otherwise, we’ve been with a certain group of people for a few days now.
Sunday, 1 June, 2003. Torres del Río. [Day 38; In Spain, Day 5]
We arrived in this small town at 4 pm and found spaces in a private albergue, run by a young Italian woman, Carmen. Only one bed left, though, with a mattress on the floor offered as well (for €4 instead of €6). Five others arrived later, and they together with Caroline have been put in an annex with bunk beds. Since this annex hasn't been properly prepared for guests, the price per bed has been reduced to €5. So for today, we’re taken care of. Carmen also runs a bar/restaurant, where we will eat after a tour of the church.
This morning, the hostel offered only a perfunctory breakfast – coffee, plus rusks with margarine and jam – but it was a helpful service. We left at 7:45 am. An attractive walk for much of the day, with wheat fields, hills, and dramatic limestone cliffs. Across the valley, we could see the Monastery of Irache, a Benedictine center founded in the 10th century.
Opposite the monastery is a wine shop that has installed, for the benefit of pilgrims, a fountain with red wine as well as water. Or so we read. To go inspect it, and visit the monastery, too, would have been too much of a detour. But the monastery did look magnificent.
Later, at 11 am, Ramon and Margaret, a Spanish and Austrian couple, found us while we were having our habitual late-morning pause. We first encountered them in St. Jean Pied-de-Port, at the restaurant where we had dinner. We have had stimulating chats with them on several occasions during the past week. They will drive tomorrow to Santiago, so we exchanged addresses and said good-bye, wishing each other well.
In Los Arcos, First Communion had just been celebrated at midday Mass. A big crowd was gathering outside as we passed by. I popped inside to look at the church: much gilt – but just outside, a very beautiful Gothic cloister.
A rainstorm came up this afternoon after Los Arcos – lightning and thunder in the distance, with some rain on us, and then once again sun.
The dinner was only so-so: a mixed salad, pork loin (thin slices) sauteed in garlic and oil, and rice with milk for dessert. Two Frenchmen were sitting at our table. They were ethnic Armenians, so I felt some discretion was required (= I didn't reveal that I lived in Turkey). Also at the table were three Germans, en route with us since Zubiri.
Heavy rain during dinner. What weather will we have tomorrow?
It's 9:45 pm. The lights are already out in my room. In the small salon by the entry, a lively conversation in French is ongoing, dominated by a Quebecois of strong accent.
Monday, 2 June, 2003. Logroño. [Day 39. In Spain, Day 6]
This morning, a tremendous din from 5:30 am on as many prepared to leave. Voices, movements, equipment being packed, sacks rustling, By 6:30 AM, only 3 people remained. All this because the hostels in Spain do not take reservations. People rush to leave early, even well before breakfast, in order to secure a spot at the next hostel before it fills up. Caroline and I understand, but we can't manage to get up and get going. We're typically the last to leave, and yet so far, we have always found a place to sleep.
A nice morning walk to Viana, where we took a long break at a café in the attractive square next to the main church, 11:00-11:50 am. We had coffee with Vincent, then shopped for food.
The next stage of the walk to Logroño, another 10 km, was dull. Hazy weather. Unkempt fields. Some urban sprawl, with light industries and large agricultural establishments.
Logroño, however, is lively and interesting. After registering in a large albergue, tidy and well organized and spacious, with a courtyard and internet service, we went out to see the city. A search for the post office gave us a good opportunity to walk around. The central park with fountain is beautiful. We bought some roasted nuts, widely available here in Spain, as in Turkey but not at all in France. We visited the Cathedral of Santa Maria la Redonda, with a late Gothic interior and an 18th century exterior.
Over a doorway of the nearby church of Santiago, we saw a large sculpture of “Santiago Matamoros” (Saint James the Moor-slayer, the symbol of the Christian reconquest of Iberia from Muslim rule, beginning in the 9th century).
I noted there is a Pius XII boulevard, a sign of the conservative Catholic streak in this part of the country.
Dinner was as usual a “menú del día.” This one, at the Café Moderno, was excellent, even featuring strawberries with whipped cream for dessert. €7.85 (including wine and water). Bullfights on TV.
Some rain in the early evening.
Tuesday, 3 June, 2003. Nájera. [Day 40. In Spain, Day 7]
Caroline has realized that she left her hat in the restaurant yesterday evening. This morning she tried to recover it. But the restaurant’s weekly closing day is Tuesday, and despite the kind interest of a nearby bartender, it was clear no one would appear between 8 and 9 am. At 9 am, she gave up and off we went.
Today's walk was 25 km, perhaps more. It began with a lengthy exit from Logroño through dullish shops and warehouses on the city limits. Eventually a paved walkway led to a large, lovely park and reservoir, an area that attracted many walkers. On we continued to Navarrete, a hilltop town, for a noon-time snack stop in an attractive square by a church, blessed with a bench in the shade.
[Note: We didn't visit the Church of the Ascension, Iglesia de la Asunción. Had we read the following, from David M. Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson, The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago. The Complete Cultural Handbook (New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 2000), pp. 131-32, I'm sure we would have.
“If you have the misfortune to pass through Navarrete at an hour when the church is closed, you may be tempted to walk on. Resist the temptation if you can! 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.” This retablo is a work of Fernando de la Peña, 1694-98.]
The afternoon: a 15 km walk through fields, rather hot, little shade, up to the top of a crest top along a path lined with many little cairns. We had a great view toward the next valley, followed by a long walk down to Nájera. The outskirts of the town are not picturesque, but we have the interest of walking around a large round hill associated with a medieval legend of Roland killing Ferragut, a Syrian giant.
The hostel filled up just as we set foot in the door, so we were put in the gymnasium (Sala Polideportivo) – to sleep on the floor.
Much to and fro at the hostel, though. I helped translate from English and German for the very kind French-speaking “hospitalera”: a Dutch cyclist had lost his brother-in-law (later found at the local campground), and a group of three Austrians needed assistance.
We missed seeing the local historic church, for it was closed when we wanted to visit it.
Dinner at “La Amistad” – very good, for €7.85 each. I had a plate of cooked vegetables (like Turkish türlü), then sweet peppers and ground meat. Dessert: "tarta al vino" (a sort of Turkish muhallebi pie).
Spending the night in the gym turned out to be fine. The showers were excellent. We were given mats to sleep on the floor of the gym. Yes, the floor was hard, but we were only 18 persons and the room was vast. No odors of unwashed clothes, no fetid air of enclosed rooms in hostels!
Wednesday, 4 June, 2003. San Domingo de la Calzada. [Day 42 In Spain, Day 8]
5:30 pm. We have found beds in an albergue run by Cistercian nuns, in the Monasterio de la Encamación. In the bunk bed above us, a young blonde woman, perhaps from the Netherlands, is removing fluid from blisters on her feet with a hypodermic needle.
As for the “peppies,” our name for a tall, athletic French couple whom we encountered walking vigorously and with top quality equipment in the rainy days around Navarrenx, we spotted them striding into the Parador, the best hotel in town. I suspect the Spanish albergues are not to their liking: too crowded and chaotic compared to the French gîtes.
This morning, we left the gymnasium at Nájera just after 7 am, made our way back to the main hostel, and used the facilities there before setting out. We arrived around 1:30 pm. San Domingo de la Calzada is only 20.5 km from Nájera, and the walking was not difficult – much on dirt roads through farm fields. Just after Nájera, red soil with vineyards. We stopped in the town of Azofra, 1 ¼ hours after setting out, for a good café con leche (coffee with milk) and two whole wheat “mantecados” each (a Spanish shortbread sugar cookie). The day has been cloudy, and indeed this afternoon after we arrived it rained a little.
Caroline has gone to Logroño by bus (at 3 pm) to recover her cherished hat, which she left in the restaurant Monday evening. She spent much of yesterday bemoaning its loss.
When Caroline returns, I’ll set off for some tourism and shopping. Mass at 8 pm, and then we’ll have dinner in the convent (in an outlying building).
Thursday, 5 June, 2003. Tosantos. [Day 42. In Spain, Day 9]
Tosantos: a village just 5 km west of Belorado (whose name kept me thinking of Colorado).
We have checked into a small hostel run by the Church – in practice by hospitaliers.
To our great delight, they are Rémy (met in Conques, who saved Caroline and her feet) and his wife, Paulette. Rémy had said he would be coming to Spain in June to serve, but he didn’t say where.
This gîte is an old house, newly redone. Caroline and I are in a small room for two. Others are in dormitories. We're supplied with thick mats for our sleeping bags.
Dinner was offered, which was nice; we didn't have to go look for a restaurant. We were served a big mixed salad, then mashed potatoes with cheese and garlic (like the French aligot) and sausages. For dessert, yogurt and apple. No wine, just water, and a tisane (herbal tea) at the end. After dinner, a short prayer service took place in the attractive little chapel on the top floor, under the eaves.
Last night, dinner at a hotel run by the convent. I was surprised to see so many people in the restaurant. We ate with Vincent, and two New Zealanders (Tony and Philippe), and a Spaniard, a pilgrim, who was clearly put out because he couldn’t communicate with the rest of us, in French or English.
This morning, after a quick do-it-yourself breakfast, we were shooed out at 8 am by a nun. The walk today: gray skies throughout, with some rain at midday. We walked through fields – dullish – and crossed a few villages, each somewhat neglected on the outskirts. At 9 am, a stop in Grañon for a coffee and to buy items for our picnic lunch.
Because of the rain, clothes washed yesterday afternoon didn’t dry.
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