I Found My Favorite Nun!

Adjusting to my new, non competitive pace I figured I'd slow down and stay in Santo Domingo de la Calzada. Long story short, I walked around town for 40 minutes and asked if there were private rooms available at 5 different places. All completo. But the nun hostel is huge, so here am.

Let me say this about the nun hostel; the vending machine sells beer (San Miguel ;/( ) for €1.

Zero Fun Pilgrims So Far

Or maybe it's me who's no fun?  Nah, I'm fun.

Even though I did this route a few years back, it feels 95% unfamiliar. Small differences in scheduling, weather, and even the fact that I started this route three weeks earlier in the season make a big difference.

Today was another long hot one. 85f and 30km but not very hilly. The only things that I remembered  about this part were passing by the fancy hotel Jill treated me to, 10 minutes into the walk, a spot where there's one of those enormous bull 'billboards', and finally arriving in the town I'm in now. I didn't stay here last time but I had an incredibly satisfying huevos rotas for lunch.

I enjoyed my full day off in Logrono yesterday. Put in about 10km of tapas walking but I think it's good to have a calorie surplus day every now and then.

I think it's going to be cool and cloudy tomorrow. Woohoo for that. If it is that comfortable, and my left side (from hip to ankle) feels okay I'll probably walk through Santo Domingo de Calzado. I remember that place pretty well (I think) because I stayed at a hostel run by nuns, and the nun who checked me in was the cutest nun ever. She strongly encouraged me to go to the cathedral for mass that night because there would be a special 'changing of the chickens' since there was a funeral scheduled.

A Half Day In Logrono

Im glad to be back on my own, staying in a place where I'm not expected to leave at 8:00AM. When I leave that early I end up being at the next location too early, or end up walking another 10km which is not feet friendly.

So it was a two hour walk to Logrono, arriving at noon. I couldn't check in till 1:30 but luckily the La Laurel district (which is the pintxos district) opened at 12:30.

Back to the grind tomorrow.

Tired

I have lots to say but I'm too tired. It's all good though.  

I feel somewhat appreciated by the gang I've been walking with for the past week encouraging me to stay with them after I told them I was going to slow down. "We all want to slow down!"  

It's me, three Spanish guys  (aged 35 to 73) and Fredericka, the Belgian girl with the awesome poncho.  They are all really strong walkers. The 73 year old, Rafa has walked a full Camino (various routes) 19 out it he last 20 years. Nacho, the 35 year old slightly irritating snow plow driver from Jaca is extremely good natured and engaging. Frederika has it made. She is just so damed Belgian. 

Earlier today, as I was bringing Frederika some ice from the bar for her swollen ankle I was thinking about how the other three guys seemed to orbit around her needs, and that she was playing them like a fiddle. 

We are all in Viana now, which is a great town 10km before Logrono. I'm not sure what I'm going to do tomorrow but it feels like time to put a little distance between me and that group. Maybe catch up with them at some point but I've met a bunch of other interesting people in the past few days. 

It reminds me of summer camp and high school. There's a certain Camino cachet about being part of a clique that includes three actual Spaniards!  

This is the life

Yesterday was comically miserable. The night before, when my feet were breaking down, Nacho from Jaca assured me that A: It wouldn't feel as hot as I expected and B: It was really flat.

By the time I got to Puente la Reina, after 9 hours of  sun strokes, hill climbing misery I straggled in Puente la Reina.

Did you know that Puente la Reina has its own fiesta, with a running of the (small unintimidating) bulls?  Yup. It ended yesterday. When I got into town at 5:30, I waltzed into the Plaza Bar, and the key to my room at the Plaza Hostel which was around the corner. After I did my usual laying down, take a shower and lay down some more, I was ready for beer o'clock and dinner.

By then, they had blocked off the Calle mayor for bull running. My feet, ankles and left shin were killing me. I'm not kidding, I thought I might be injured enough for it to affect this trip. At one point I took a step and the pain on the outside of my left shin made me afraid to look down at it because I figured a bone must be sticking out of it. For 30 seconds or so the pain stopped and I could step on it  again so I knew it was wasn't serious. Bones and tendons aren't that forgiving. It must have been a newly awaken muscle or something that was spasming out from its sudden awakening. This morning it still kind of hurt but in a "I'm here to help" kind of way. I say that because I feel pretty, pretty good after a long hilly day.

I digressed from the running of the bulls part of the story. The closures meant that I had to walk hundreds of yards to find my first beer- and food. I finally did though, and it was worth it. Best of all, I took the opportunity at the bar to use a toothpick to yank the linty gunk out of my phones headphone jack so that today I could start the day with both music and a new helpful muscle on the outside of my left shin.

Another One Of Those Days

All's well in Peuente la Reina. I might have more to say later.

One Of Those Days

Every other day is one of those days when regardless of the weather or conditions, it's a slog.

On paper, today was pretty hard but for me on the ground it was torture. The first 18km was a narrow muddy and rocky trail, ranging feom one to several feet wide.  It's not like just walking when every step puts your foot at different 'yaw and pitch' angles. It was exhausting.

It took me five hours to do those 18km. The last 10km had good footing but the sun was frying the left side of me. It was mind over matter but my mind made it miserable. My left arm and leg looked purple red and I was afraid to even wonder what the left side of my face looked like.  I swear, even the top and left side of my cap are sun bleached from blue to purple. I was the last to arrive at the barracks and there was no more hot water. It felt great.

In the end, I'm actually not that burned at all.  Tomorrow's destination is Puente la Reina. It's 2 km farther than today and 10f hotter. But on the 'every other day' theory, it's bound to be easier today.

Oh and by the way, I got a fantastic personal reminder that I'm back in Basque country when I handed my US passport over to the albergue admin lady. Connecticut!!!

I'm Getting a Poncho

Todays distinctive feature was the weather in the morning. We knew it was coming, practically to the minute. Last night at dinner one of the guys who spoke English said that nobody would sleep past 8 today because of a massive thunderstorm that would exactly then. I checked my phone for the time when the first flash and crash hit. It was 7:56.

The lighting ended by about 9 and everyone set off for where I am now, the first town in Navarra after leaving Aragonnes. It's called Sanguesa.

Gronze.com says that there is a 350 meter climb over the first 6.5 km. If that's true I'm pretty pleased with how I'm doing so far. It defininately was a relentless uphill, but I think I only stopped once on that stretch.

The fact that it was raining steadily for the first hour, raining hard for the second and absolutely pouring for the third probably took my mind off the hill.  After the climb it was another 3.5 - 4 km of flat terrain. That's where you get mud. It was as slippery as any mud I've walked on. I got to the bar at some village a little after noon and I had reached terminal wetness. As wet as I could get.

The people who wore ponchos looked dry as a bone. Not only was I soaked but had slipped on the mud and fallen so my whole left side was mud. Fall might not be the right word because it was so slow motion but the result was the same, dirt wise. I changed all of my clothes at the bar, had some patatas bravas and left at noon. It never did rain again.

The best prepared person was a Belgian girl who is now my rain-dressing role model. She has a very cool black poncho with a white reflective vertical strip down the back, that folds itself into a fanny pack like Jill's Asturian jacket. She also was the only one with rain pants (that go over regular hiking pants). I passed her after the top of the hill when it was really pouring. She was sitting on a rock eating a cookie. She got to the bar, yanked off her poncho and rain pants and she - and her pack were dry as a bone.

Tonight I'm staying at an overpriced hostel. It's okay though because I have room to hang everything out to dry. Hand washed pretty much all of my clothes so I expect to be pretty comfortable tomorrow.

It looks like one albergue is the only show in town tomorrow. This one doesn't have any private rooms, just one big room with 10 bunk beds (20 total). I like that better than sharing a room with one or two strangers for some reason. Anyway it's supposed to be nice tomorrow, but another one of those stages where there's no place to stop for the first 18km so I'll do a little food shopping in a bit.

Ruesta

Every day I try to think of what makes this 'stage' different from all the other stages I've done.  Farm animals, terrain, weather, meeting people, the 60km day, etc.

Today was very nice in terms of weather, terrain, etc.  Not particularly hard although it rated 3 out of 5 difficulty stars on gronze.com (I'll never intentionally do a 5 in one day).

The local people were the standout between Arres and Ruesta.  There were absolutely no services (bars, restaurants, water fountains *) along the 28km route, but it really seemed like the region goes out of their way to bolster their reputation as camino-friendly.  Lots of smiles & waves but what got really got my attention was the drivers.

The majority of the route was on dirt roads, which are pleasant until a car, farm van or tractor goes by - especially when its' sunny and dry; they kick up a lot of dust.  Today, every single driver seemed to go way out of their way not to make a dust storm.  The ones coming from the opposite direction slowed down when they saw me, and sped up after they passed me.  Those going in my direction slowed down as soon as they reached me.  A couple of them (including the biggest tractor of the day) drove with one wheel on the grass strip between the dirt wheel ruts.

Obviously it was a slow news day on the camino.  Which is good!

Two more days until this route joins with the main one at Puente la Reina.  What I'm looking forward to most is stopping for lunch, bing able to buy sunscreen and normal stuff like that.  The other 'peregrinos' are for the most part very nice.

I met a couple of Americans today who stopped about 10km earlier than me.  They were doing an oddball route from either Jaca or Somport to Puente la Reina and then backwards on the main route (Camino Frances) through Pamplona and Roncesvalles and crossing the mountains to finish at St. Jean Pied de Port.  The woman explained that they had already done the camino six times.  She then pointed out to me a different style of route marker than the plain arrow.  Sometimes people really want to be helpful and share the knowledge that comes from experience.  Still it reminded me of a French Canadian guy who on my first camino (from Le Puy) who warned me that the barbs on the barbed wire hurt if you brushed up against them.

I'm in Arres

Pretty much every day that I stay at a good place in a nice town, I wake up trying to rationalize spending the day there. Jaca is a great little city, and I'm not sure when I'll be in another one like it. But I had called to reserve a room in Arres tonight, and pretty much every time I take a random day off, I regret it by noon. So I'm in Arres.

 Back in the day, last year, I'd cavalierly proclaim that the view from the top of the hill makes the climb worthwhile. Not sure I'm there yet this time, but today I scored an amazing view from my room at Posada el Grenero del Conde in Arres.

After 21 of today's 25km I was ready to declare the day a bust. 10km of it was on a path along a highway. There was very little shade and it was completely sunny all day. The last 4 km were nice. Uphill but nice. I was pretty sure that I fell for the oldest trick on the camino, the unnecessary scenic diversion that still led to a crappy hole in the wall.

I guess it is a hole in the wall but it's anything but crappy. €45 for a terrific room with a queen sized bed, dinner tonight, breakfast tomorrow and a truly amazing view from both the bedroom and the bathroom which have opposite views.

I've got to figure out how to add photos to this blog. Not just for today's views but really, especially for "Goat Day".

Bye, France

I felt really lucky to find that monastery yesterday. There were nine other people there and I was the third youngest.

I ended up sharing a room with a 74 year old Irishman, Patrick. Very nice guy whom I feel sorry for because of one thing:  he doesn't appreciate great food. This trip confirms my belief that in the French countryside it's hard to get a bad meal. Patrick would eat at Burger King every day if he could. 

They really know how to carmelize. Chicken, pork ,beef you name it. They must cook it over very high heat or something but that crispy goodness might be my favorite food thing. 

The end of yesterday's walk led me to re-assess my route to Jaca, or at least to Somport pass. Steady rain, slippery mud paths that were rarely more than feet wide, combined with a fairly sheer drop down to river isn't my cup of tea. Patrick agreed. He had done this route before, and said the first 10k is just as hairy. I double checked the bus schedule, on line and the one posted at the bus stop. He and I got there 20 minutes early for the 8:44 to Bedous. An hour later it still hadn't come so we figured that we didn't have much of a choice so we started walking. It wasn't raining and wasn't that bad. 

He continued on, and I'm having lunch waiting for the 3 o'clock bus to Canfranc, at the top of the pass. 

I got a current timeline from the Bedous tourism office and it bore no resemblance to the one posted at the Sarrance bus stop (which by the way said that it was good til Dec 15th). Just to make sure I went back and asked the tourist office guy to confirm my interpretation. 

I will have had four hours in Bedous

Goats

I'm in a town called Sarrance. 

Last night I figured I'd try & break my habit of booking the next night online. There's only one hotel here, and booking.com said there was only 1 room left. The place looked big though, and it's a rainy Monday so I was sure I could just walk in and get a better deal.  I walked in and nope they really were sold out. 

So I'm writing from the dorm at the local monestary. I'm glad to be here because there aren't any busses (anywhere) for the rest of the day, and a taxi would have to come from who knows where. It was pouring when I arrived and I'm thankful to be dry finally. 

The big event of the day was the goats. I walked into a village where there was a dog in the street barking at me and a couple of goats milling around. The dogs owner came out & got the dog (I was thinking it was a goat herding dog at first) so I continued on my way.  

I wondered what the hell goats were doing roaming around the village but figured that's just how they roll up here in the Pyrenees.  About 100 yards down the road I look back, and the goats are following me. At the end of the village I turn off onto a foot path by a corn field. Look back, still goats. 

I was a little concerned that I'd be accused of goat rustling by some farm dog (who obviously wasn't doing its job). I tried to make it clear to the goats that I wasn't who they thought I was but they kept following. 

The three of us left the cornfield track, down a rocky forest path and up onto a road. Something wasn't right about this. As cars passed, I'd make eye contact and make the universal 'what the heck is going on here!?' Gesture. The first 4 or 5 smiled (maybe even laughed) and waved. The next one to come by was a very woman who upon seeing my universal gesture slowed down and rolled down her window. I told that I don't speak French but and luckily she spoke a little English. 

So she says to me "Ahr zees your goauts?  I started laughing and told her no, but they had been following me for the last hour. She got out of her car took my walking stick and tried to convince them that was not who they thought I was. No luck. She suggested that I take them to the next village and try to get of them there. We were both laughing about it when a younger guy in a farm van got stuck behind the woman's car. He got out of the van and decided that me walking them to the next village wasn't a great idea. He pulled up along side the other car, and they each opened both doors to their vehicles and said "Go!".  

I have no idea what they did but I really appreciated getting rid of those two. 

Cell reception at the monastery is shaky but I got some pics of the goats. I wish I'd gotten a picture of the rescuers, but it was raining and besides, they were doing me a big favor and I didn't want to delay them.

Pain

I shouldn't have done beer o'clock. 

Neck- it hurts. 

Back- also hurts. 

hips- see neck and back. 

Index toe, right foot- blistered. 

Skin- burned (it wasn't even sunny today). 

Tomorrow's terrain-all uphill. Tomorrow's weather report- rain all day. 

Place I'm staying- overpriced, edgy (well, French edgy). Cleanliness of said place I'm staying- dirty with mold in the shower. 

Confidence in getting a good nights sleep- low. 

Feels Like France

Anyway what an experience today was. I really need to plan these things better. 

Yesterday I said something like ' uphill "bits" (can't believe I said "bits") was around 350 meters. I forgot that I stopped before the 200 meter hill. Today's stage was already going to be 400m uphill so whatever the actual measurements were, todays climb was 4 times yesterday's, and 26km long. It took me 7.5 hours. I'm in a really nice mid-sized town called Arudy. Tomorrow I'm off to Oloron Ste. Marie which is downhill from here. 

I think that picture of the bridge is pretty cool - the way the reflection makes it look like an "O". 

I was pretty cranky when I finally arrived, and was ready to declare it a horrible day but after lying down for an hour and taking a shower, I think it might be one of the top five stages I've ever done. The scenery in the second picture is a good representation of what I had to look at all day.  

This stage really had it all. Forests, farms, meadows, mountains and I think less than 5km was on pavement. 

It reminded me of the first route I ever did - from LePuy en Velais in that it felt even more authentic than the main Spanish caminos in that there were chapels galore which certainly makes it feel like there's been very little re-routing over the years.  

The other thing I loved about it is that no single part of it seemed to be more than a couple hundred yards long: up a nasty muddy footpath, cross the road, onto a farm track, onto another footpath where you enter a pasture (making sure to close the gate behind you on the way in and out so the livestock doesn't escape), into the pavement as you enter a village ...

Anyway dinner just came. Bye for now.

I'm Back

I got my pilgrim passport in Lourdes yesterday and knew it was going to be a solitary first week when I saw the handwritten 'serial number' of 646 on it. That's how many people have started Caminos from Lourdes this year (and it's not part of any other Camino). 

It was just the right first stage for my current level of fitness. 17km with just two moderate hills. I think all of the uphill bits combined were 350 meters. 

Being 'that guy' who always needs his own room worked out well. The traditional first stage is 23km, and you stay in a priests house. I like that idea about as much as Robbie would. 

So I'm staying at O Quatre  Saisons restaurant and hotel in a town with a hyphenated name where the words start with an L and a B (I forget which order). There's one dinner seating, and that usually means great food. 

They even have a bar with bar stools (from where I write!). I just ordered my 14 Euro dinner. Some kind of soup, a croque monsieur sandwich, and salmon with cheesy potatoes.