Walking Days 8 & 9

In the morning, I awake early and find Juan Manuel has already put out breakfast. There is coffee, hot water for tea or cocoa. Slices of bread, various cookies and crackers, jam and butter and a large bowl of fruit are also on the table. It is 5:30 and people are already packed up and ready to start the day´s walk. I open the front door to see that it is still dark outside and Tom is sitting all wrapped up in our fleece sleeping bags. He gets up and says, "remind me to never sleep outside again!" When I ask why, he says it got really cold in the night and our gear is not made for the lower temperatures. He goes inside and promptly curls up on one of the mattresses and goes back to sleep. We all eat breakfast and people start saying their goodbyes as they head out of the door. One of the things you find as you walk the camino is how quickly people can form bonds with total strangers you might not ever see again. In a very small span of time, someone can make a profound impact on you. One such young man is named Martin. We have passed him several times in the last few days. The impression he makes on first glance is a fierce one and first impressions are quite judgmental. His head is shaved and his body is covered in tattoos. Unlike most tattoos, these are not pictures or designs but rather numbers. Because it is hot, he is walking without a shirt and you can see numbers tattooed across his chest. They also run down his arms and legs and across his back. As we pass him, we wonder what the numbers represent. Maite suggests they might be his phone number in case he collapses on the camino. We laugh but really we have no idea. The previous evening, I had asked Martin about his tattoos. His quiet demeanor and soft voice are in sharp contrast to the image he projects. He pointed to his thigh and explained that the tattoo starts there and it represents the number pi: 3.1415. The rest of the numbers continue out the placement and are found around his body. He explains that he has tattooed the number pi because it tries to be a perfect measurement but that it is not. His tattoos are a constant and visual reminder that although we may strive for perfection, it is not attainable because we are human and imperfect beings. Although we met only briefly, I don´t think that I can forget Martin and his tattoos.

As we start our day´s walk, it is still dark outside. Tom is none too pleased about being awoken as he is tired from his uncomfortable sleep al fresco. But we get going and there are still stars in the sky. However, as the sun rises over the horizon, the stars quickly fade and the midnight blue sky starts to turn a brilliant blue. It is also starting to heat up. As we walk, we realize that today will be another short day since the stage goal is the city of Logroño, which is nearly 40 kilometers away. We check our maps for a stopping point and choose Torres del Rio, which makes today´s distance about an 18 kilometer walk. The day´s walk is mostly on a path but there is little shade and water. Once again, we slip into a rhythm of walking with Tom, Denise and Roger ahead and Jose, Maite and me behind. During our walk, we spot a young woman Maite has nicknamed "Peter Pan." She is walking the camino in a pair of bright green boots and we have seen various times along the way. She is sitting on a hay bale and we stop to ask her about her unique walking shoes. She laughs and explains she is Australian and she wanted to wear something that had her country´s name on it. But she also explains she would never wear the boots when she returns to Australia as they are a bit over the top. We tell her our nickname and she laughs again. We discover her name is Bianca and she is doing the camino with her mother and a friend. She and her mother had done part of the camino before but now wanted to complete the entire journey. We wish her a "Buen Camino" and continue walking.

The day is very hot and so we are glad we decided to make it a short walk. As we enter town, we find Tom, Denise and Roger having a cool drink at the bar. We laugh as that seems to be their favorite stopping point. However, we head into town to look for an albergue. The town is small and we are concerned about finding a place to stay. We find a privately run albergue called Casa Mari and quickly check in. We head off to let the others know where we are and search for some food. There is only one little store and it is closed for siesta. The practice of siesta is still very much alive in Spain and with good reason. The heat in the afternoon makes doing just about anything unbearable. As such, when we arrive at our resting places, they usually look abandoned. You see very few people outside and most windows are closed, usually with a metal shade. It is not until the heat of the day starts to cool off that villages and towns come alive and fill up as people head back outside to socialize and do errands or jobs not finished from earlier in the day. While we finish up our day´s chores, Roger goes out to look for food. I check our schedule and determine that if we continue our pace and break up stages into smaller chunks, we will not arrive in Santiago as we had planned. Tom and I are already two days behind schedule and we are in danger of foregoing our plans to visit my aunt and the beach for a few days before we head home. I discuss this with Maite and Jose. Tom and I have completely enjoyed our travels together but we need to pick up our pace. Maite and Jose explain while they don´t have a time constraint, they do have a monetary one and they too would like to pick up the pace. We decide to talk to Roger and Denise about this during dinner and see how they feel about going faster. Roger returns from foraging for food and lets us know the tiny shop has very little available to make dinner and much less for breakfast. He is craving bacon and eggs. Maite, Jose and I head out to see what we can find. We arrive at the store and at first glance, the supplies of foodstuff are rather sparse. There are a few containers with some vegetables and fruits. A cooler has some sausages, cold drinks and yogurts but there doesn´t appear to be much else. There is a split-level door and behind we can see what looks like a giant pantry stuffed with a variety of cans and assorted dry goods. We talk it over and decide we can make a tuna pasta for dinner with what is available. Off hand, we ask if he has any eggs or bacon and discover that most of the refrigerated food items are in another room. We quickly stock up with items to make lunch for tomorrow and Roger´s prized bacon and eggs. We head back to the albergue to prepare our meal. While Jose and I cook, Maite gives Denise a back massage. Denise is starting to have sciatic pain from all the walking. Following dinner, I bring up our concerns about our pace. Roger and Denise tell us they have concerns about the heat. They are not sure they can take a faster pace if it requires walking during the heat of the day. Denise is also concerned that a faster pace would injure her back further.Since they do not have any time constraints, they can continue to play things by ear and see when they want to stop. I can see Tom is upset. He is thoroughly enjoying his walks with Roger and Denise. For the first time, since our "herd" got together, we are all a little subdued as we head off to bed.
Morning comes all to quickly and with it a rather large misunderstanding between Jose and Roger. When Roger mentioned he wanted bacon and eggs, Jose thought it was to make for lunch in the morning. Roger, on the other hand, wanted to make them for breakfast. Jose and Maite are both taken aback by this. They couldn´t possible eat such a heavy breakfast before heading off to walk or at any other time, actually. Roger cannot understand this as hearty breakfast is a pre-requisite for him and Denise before they start any kind of trek. I have to explain that breakfast in Spain is rather simple: a cafe´con leche and some kind of toasted bread with either butter and jam or tomato and olive oil. Large breakfasts common to England and the United States are virtually unheard of in Spain. Eggs are also an item eaten at lunch or dinner. It is Roger´s turn to be taken aback. In the end, he decides not to cook the items. Not wanting to leave the eggs behind, Jose cooks them up and makes an omelet with the sausage and the bacon bought the day before. This he puts in the baguettes and wraps them for lunch. The tension over the morning´s misunderstanding and the discussion about picking up the pace of our journey is very palpable. I think everyone can sense the discomfort. As we walk, I try to tell Tom why it might be necessary to break up our group. Although he says he understands, he is still upset by the thought. He has formed a rather close attachment to our British friends. We walk today with a heavy but unseen weight on our shoulders.
Our day´s destination is Logroño, a walk of about 23 kilometers. We have gotten off to a quick start and hope to beat the heat as well as the large number of walkers we know are behind us. Our shorter journey gives us a little advantage as the camino fills up and albergue space is at a premium. We arrive in Viana and plan to stop for breakfast. As we enter town, we discover that Viana is celebrating a fiesta. There are banners flying over head and we pass several gentlemen cooking a giant stew outdoors. They tell us they are making Callos, which is a specialty in Spain. It´s main ingredient is tripe and today they are lucky because there is an "encierro", a bullfight, for the fiesta and the stew will be extra special with ears and tail of the bull added.

We wish them a happy feast day and head off in search of coffee and toast. We catch up with Tom, Denise and Roger. Tom wants to stay in Viana for the night and experience the fiesta and bullfight. But, I have to remind him that a delay will cost us our trip to the beach and he relents grudgingly.
After our breakfast, we head off to Logroño. We walk today through gorgeous green vineyards announcing that we will soon be leaving the province of Navarre and entering the region of La Rioja, known world-wide for its wines. Our late morning walk starts to slow down as the heat of the day rises. We have been walking now for nine days and covered nearly 150 kilometers. We are tired and sore but we keep moving forward. When we reach the albergue in Logroño, there is already a line of pilgrims waiting for the doors to open. We put our backpacks at the end of the line and sit in the shade waiting for the albergue to open. There are many people we recognize from previous stages and soon we are all comparing injuries and stories from our walk across Spain. There is a lot of laughing and joking around while we wait. You can hear a multitude of languages: German, Italian, French, Spanish and many others I don´t recognize. It´s a real tower of Babel. The albergue opens at 1:30 and so everyone jumps up to take their place in line. We slowly move forward and as we enter we are warmly greeted and given a small bottle of wine and small roll in the shape of a scallop shell, the symbol of the Camino. Having lost track of what day it is, we quickly realize that today is July 25th and it is the feast of St. James, patron saint of the Camino. We are informed that there will be a mass followed by a celebration with food and drink. We are told the doors of the albergue will be closed at 10:00 and to be careful as dinner is served late in town. I translate this to Roger and Denise and we go upstairs to find our beds. There is some grumbling by Roger and Denise. As we settle ourselves down, they inform us that they are going to find a hotel for the night. They don´t feel the albergue is particulary safe if there is a fire and they might want to stay out later than the house rules allow. We are saddened knowing that our journey together is at an end. We tell them we will try to find them in the plaza later. No goodbyes are said, instead it is, see you later. Jose, Maite and I go off on our usual hunt for an open grocery store and a bank machine. Most of the stores, bars and albergues we visit in the small villages are on a cash-only basis so when you find a machine you´d best make use of it. When we return to the albergue, mass is underway in the small patio outside. There is a large crowd in attendance, most of whom don´t appear to be pilgrims but rather guests. We maneuver our way through the crowd with our grocery bags feeling a little sheepish that groceries took priority over mass. As we put our items in the refrigerator, we are informed that the kitchen will be closed during the fiesta as it is needed by the caterer. We head back out of albergue in search of something to eat and a drink. At the plaza, we run into Roger and Denise. They are sitting with a fellow Brit, whom they just recently met. They tell us they have found a nearby hotel for the night and are enjoying the luxury of a private bathroom and no bunk beds. We wish them well and tell them that we hope to see them tomorrow on the camino. Back at the albergue, the party is on. There are tables laden with appetizers and wine and soda are flowing. Everyone is in a cheerful mood. We make the most of the food as we won´t be able to make dinner with a closed kitchen. Before long, exhaustion kicks in and we leave the party for the guests who won´t be getting up at the crack of dawn. We are in bed by 9:30 and the party at the albergue winds down by 10:00. However, it spills out into the street and we fall asleep with celebrations going on outside our window.

Walking Day 7 - Estella to Monjardin

Morning arrives and with it more hilarity. Although we are exhausted by our day´s walk, the night´s heat does not let up and our room was uncomfortable. In an effort to find a cool spot to sleep, I had removed my mattress from the top bunk and placed it on the floor by the window where there was somewhat of a breeze. I did not realize my efforts would cause such a misunderstanding that would have us howling with laughter all morning. It seems the noise emitted by the plastic-encased mattress as I dropped it to the floor and then lay down on was loud enough to cause Roger to sit up briefly and look around. Maite, also heard and woke up to see Roger. He lay down but his movements caused Maite to think that Roger had emitted some nocturnal air. Jose woke up from the top bunk and poked his head down to chastise Maite for letting loose. Maite was giggling so hard at this point she couldn´t do anything but shake her head at Jose, who still thought she was the guilty party. Things quieted down for awhile until there was another loud noise outside our window. This caused Denise to wake up rather concerned as Roger´s boots were airing out in the window sill, placed there by Jose and Maite. Denise thought the boots had fallen off to the roof top below. When they realized Denise´s concerns, it provokes another round of nocturnal giggles. As morning breaks and we start packing up to leave, the night´s stories start unfolding. When all the translating back and forth is done, I realize that I am the guilty party that started all the misunderstanding when I moved my mattress.

These morning conversations are a wonderful way to wake up and start the day. We are getting up awfully early to beat the heat and so laughing helps to energize us for another day of walking. After our hilarity from the night wears off, today´s joking starts afresh with Jose poking fun at Roger. We will be passing by the Irache Monastery, which is a former home to a Benedictine community of monks. Serving pilgrims since the 10th century, the monastery was closed in 1985. It now houses a museum. But, of special interest to us is the bodega right next door. Bodegas Irache has also been serving pilgrims in its own way. There is a fountain located right next to the pilgrim´s path. The fountain offers much needed water but it also offers wine. Because of this, Jose begins teasing that we best be careful or we will be leaving Roger behind at the fountain of wine. Jose mugs and imitates Roger drinking from the fountain and Roger imitates Jose imitating him and soon, we are all laughing hysterically.

We continue this way until we reach the bodega. Outside the fountain area, we encounter some young pilgrims looking as if they were waiting for a Grateful Dead concert. They were making music on a bongo while sitting on their backpacks. A dread-headed young man explained they were waiting for the wine fountain to open, currently there was no wine. We set off to explore this for ourselves. The sign on the wall welcomes all pilgrims to come and fortify their spirits for the journey ahead. Even though it is only a little after eight in the morning, we do not hesitate. We eagerly go to the fountain but like the other pilgrims, we find the wine is not flowing. We are disappointed, but we take pictures and wave at the webcam and then head off after determining the wine is not going to flow. Paul had hoped to see us at the webcam, but it is the middle of the night at home and I have no way to let him know of our arrival. We wish our fellow travelers a hearty goodbye and good luck as they wait for the fountain to flow and we head off towards our next destination.


The suggested stage would have us ending our day in Los Arcos, a day´s walk of 21 kilometers. But we have been walking for a week and we are tired. We opt instead to end our day in Monjardin, a tiny little hamlet at the half-point of the stage. When we arrive, it is early and the parroquial albergue is not open yet. Jose goes in to enquire and we are told that we can stay, but that our hospitalero (a volunteer host) needs to go to town and we may enter when he returns. We sit at the table outside the albergue and buy some cold drinks from the machine outside and enjoy the fact that we are done walking for the day. Our host walks out and introduces himself. He is a sprite of a man, wiry and tan. He informs us his name Juan Manuel. He graciously welcomes us and as we introduce ourselves, he claps his hands together and smiles broadly. He explains that just that morning, he had lost his volunteer who had been staying with him for the past week. The volunteer spoke English and Juan Manuel did not. He says that he prayed for help and was going to ask the first person who spoke English if they would consider staying for the night to help him welcome other pilgrims. I started laughing and told him that he asked for help and he received. Not only was there one person who spoke English but four of us. He is extremely pleased and points to the heavens with a broad smile. He says he will return quickly and we may drop off our backpacks inside while we wait. There is no food at the albergue or store but we may go up to the bar, where the owner serves meals. We take advantage of his advice --- who are we to refuse a meal and a beer after a day´s walk. Once sated, we head back to the albergue to wait for our host, who arrives shortly. He gives us a tour of the albergue, which is two rooms, each with a single platform to hold mattresses, about 15 in each room. A pile of blankets are located in each corner of the room. There are two showers and two bathrooms and a small kitchen with no stove but a microwave. This is one of the most spartan of albergues at which we have stayed. Juan Manuel registers us into his book. Just as he finishes, several pilgrims walk in to see if there is room and he warmly welcomes them. They speak no Spanish, but they do speak English so I jump in to help translate. Maite sits at the table to help log them in and Jose gives them a tour. Juan Manual is very pleased with our help. This routine continues throughout the afternoon as weary pilgrims arrive. The albergue is soon filled with pilgrims who are doing the same day´s end routine: shower, hand wash of clothes and hang on the line to dry and then set out to look for food. The town is rather sparse with the bar being really the only place to find food.

We set off to explore what little there is of the tiny town. Monjardin sits above the surrounding countryside. Above you can see the ruins of St. Stephen´s Castle. Completing our tour takes about five minutes so we head back to the bar. There is a covered sitting area so we take advantage of the shade and have another round of beers. Nothing tastes so good as an ice cold beer after a hot day´s walk. We spend the late afternoon chatting with other pilgrims and trying to decide what to do about dinner. Although we are traveling by foot and staying in albergues, it is easy to spend a majority of your day´s allowance on food. Most places offer a pilgrim´s menu, which is usually two courses, wine or water, bread and dessert for anywhere between 8 to 11 euros. With six of us traveling together, it does not take long to figure out we can make dinner for a lot less. But without a store, we are without anything to make the evening´s meal. Roger and Denise, however, come to the rescue. Tiny towns like Monjardin are frequently serviced by traveling grocery stores selling either fruits and vegetables, frozen meats and fish, knife-sharpening or other services required by residents. They herald their arrival into town by either holding down their van horns or playing music from a loud speaker for an interminable amount of time giving people time to make their way to their location. One such van rolled into Monjardin and Roger and Denise take advantage and buy several large pork tenderloins and some eggs. With his pocket rocket and Jose cooking skills, we are soon served up a tasty and filling dinner. We buy two bottles of wine and bread from the bar. We all pitch in fruit that we all carry in our backpacks and sit down to another wonderful and delicious communal meal outside the albergue. As our evening winds down to an end, Jose and Juan Manual have offered to massage the feet or leg muscles of anyone who needs some pain relief brought about by the constant walking. Quite a few pilgrims take up their offer, myself included. My knee tendinitis has now moved from one knee to the other and the arches of my feet are getting extremely sore and tender. Without the massaging, the next day´s walk might end prematurely due to injury. At this point, leg and back pain has become a standard part of the journey. Standing first thing in morning makes you cringe and cry out a little. It takes about 5 kilometers of walking slowly before your muscles warm up and the pain seems to dissipate. Nobody turns down an offer of a massage. In fact, it is part of the communal evening ritual after dinner. The menthol smell of Reflex or Vick´s Vapor Rub wafts through the air as people tend to sore and aching legs and feet.
This night, I help Juan Manual translate questions to a young woman from Slovakia. She entered the albergue limping and Juan Manuel asks her if she wants a leg massage. She quickly agrees. She tells us her name is Nina. Juan Manuel turns to me and asks me to ask her if he can ask her some questions while he massages her leg. When I translate, Nina gives us both a concerned look and Juan Manuel is quick to dispel any concern she has that he is going to inappropriate with her. Nina quickly relaxes and points to her knee and the arch of her foot when she is asked where she is experiencing pain. Juan Manuel starts with her foot and through me asks Nina if she is 24 years old. Nina looks surprised and then answers yes. He tells me to tell Nina that when she arrived she seemed bright and sunny but when Juan Manuel greeted her personally she seemed to withdraw her open disposition. Nina shakes her head in disagreement but then quickly changes her mind and says that is true. He then asks if this is normal and Nina says that she does seem to withdraw a bit from other people. Juan Manuel questions whether Nina brought her traveling companion with her on the camino or did her friend invite her. Nina says it is she who brought her friend along. At this point, Juan Manuel tells her that she will not find the answers she is looking for but rather, she will find more questions. Nina again looks surprised. They continue this back and forth with me as interpreter. Through his questions which are eerily accurate, we discover Nina has just finished her degree as a sports therapist, she used to be a tomboy and has a lot of injuries to her legs because she always plays and still plays soccer with boys and men. Then, Juan Manuel tells Nina that she believes she walks in her friend´s shadow, but he assures her that the reverse is actually true. Nina ponders this quietly but says nothing. Through this question and answer session, it is clear that Nina is on a journey that will take her in a different direction than she had originally thought when she started and she is intrigued. When Juan Manuel is done, Nina thanks Juan Manuel for both the massage and conversation and quietly goes off to join her friend. Later that evening, Maite and I are talking about the exchange between the two. She has overheard and comments on how intuitive Juan Manuel questions were and how Nina was guarded at first but became open to different possibilites facing her along her journey. Maite comments that she thought that Nina would rush to talk to her friend about the discussion, but instead Nina quietly lay down on her mattress and said nothing keeping the conversation to herself. For me, it is a very interesting and touching experience to be part of their interaction which is part mystical and part therapy and somewhat emotional for Nina. I am curious to know how her journey turns out and as we part in the morning, we agree to keep in touch via Facebook.

Roger, Denise and Tom decide to sleep outside on the lawn behind the church. Juan Manuel calls it the Albergue of a Million Stars. He is not too far off the point. The sky is brilliant and shimmering with the glow of stars. As I go to sleep, I drift off thinking that simplest of albergues is so far the one which I like and has touched me the most.

Walking Day Six - Puente La Reina to Estella Part Two

We continue along the camino enjoying our morning walk. Pretty soon, our group stretches out as each of us continues to find our own comfortable pace. Tom walks with Roger and Denise and I find my pace with Jose and Maite. This changes as the day progresses. It is quite an enjoyable way to walk. We stop for periodic rests as the sun is starting to heat up. As we head into Estella, the temperatures have risen quite a bit. Having grown up in California, the heat does not bother me as much as it does Roger and Denise and Jose and Maite. They start to fall behind. We soon arrive in Estella and I head to the albergue and leave Tom seated behind to wait for the rest of our group. When I ask for six places at the albergue, I am told they are full. The gentleman behind the desk is not very helpful when I ask him where the other albergues are. I am hot, tired and his lack of concern at my state makes me rather irritible. A little compassion would have made me feel a little better but I got none. I waited at the bridge for Tom and the rest of the group to arrive so that we could find someplace to sleep that night. After asking several people, we were told the parroquial albergue was up the street and around the corner. The last hour of a long day seems the longest, especially when all you want is to put down your heavy backpack and take off your shoes. We slowly trudge up the hill and go up around the corner. At that time of day any small incline might as well be Mount Everest. We finally get to the albergue only to be told that it is also full and the next albergue is 2 kilometers up the road. Without meaning too, my eyes well up with tears as I ask whether there isn´t anything closer. This gentleman has much more compassion for our state and tells us to wait a few minutes. There might be beds but he is waiting to hear from the parish priest who is off buying supplies for the influx of pilgrims. The priest told him that there are seven beds in the parish hall, but we need to wait for confirmation. There are no showers there. We will have to shower at the albergue and then walk over about a block to where the hall is. Maite and Jose agree and they go inside to shower while they wait for permission to stay at the parish hall. Denise and Roger and I are not too keen about having to shower at one place and then stay someplace else. Denise wants to look for a hotel and I agree to go look with her. At the last minute, however, I agree to stay where we are. A bed in the hand is better than nothing at all and there is no guarantee about hotel availability. The town is small and there is a small fiesta that night. I tell Denise that I will help her since her Spanish is virtually non-existent. We leave the group and go on our search for a hotel. The first hotel right off the plaza tells us they are full. We are dejected. We continue on to a pension recommended by the gentleman at the albergue. We ring the bell quite a few times but no one answers. I am glad I had kept our name on the list back at the albergue. I did not want to walk ahead two kilometers. However, I also realize that in my quest to find a hotel room, I am walking quite a bit and might have used that energy towards going forward instead of circles in town. We do not find anything and Denise is now worried that their spots might have been given to someone else who arrived later. We return the albergue and she is relieved to find that they are still on the list. He was waiting to see the outcome of our search before giving up the spots. He has also heard from the parish priest who indeed confirms that we are more than welcome to stay in the hall. In fact, there are more spots available as he has been buying mattresses for people to sleep on the floor if need be. We are shown to our room which is actually a classroom on the second floor of the hall. There is a large flat screen TV and our windows overlook the town. We are pleased as we are alone in the room. There is a bed for one more and we don´t know if anyone will be joining us. We start our day-end routine and then get ready for finding some food.

Along the camino, there are some interesting dynamics that emerge. While we walk carrying our enormously laden backpacks, we are often passed by people carrying little or nothing at all on their backs. We have taken to call these people faux or vacation pilgrims. They often send their laden backpacks ahead by taxis that cater specifically to carrying ahead heavy luggage. The issue for us "true" pilgrims is that we often arrive at the albergues only to find they are full of the faux pilgrims who can walk briskly since they are not carrying any weight. It is frustrating and yet makes you feel bad for judging them since the same option is available to all. And yet, we still puff out our chests with pride and say we are doing the camino the "right" way. I guess we should say the hard way and no where is it written that the path on the Camino must only contain hardship and suffering....but I´m just saying sometimes it just doesn´t feel right. Especially, when I am waiting for a shower and it is filled with women carrying heavy bags laden with cosmetics, creams and all sorts of luxuries while I hold my towel the size of a cloth napkin and my tiny bottles of travel shampoo and conditioner. They primp and preen in front of the mirror talking about what a long day it was, but they arrived two hours before me and an hour after their luggage. I´m just saying, it might be okay, but it doesn´t feel right.

Anyway, back at the parish hall after showering, we turn on the big screen to watch the Tour de France. We are all interested as the race mirrors our nationalities and we have a great time ribbing each other. We try to decide what to do for dinner. Denise, Roger, Tom and I decide to have dinner out. Jose and Maite pick up some food to eat at the hall. As we are waiting for our dinner, we are entertained by a marching band of youth garbed in medieval costumes. We enjoy our show and our dinner and are soon joined by Jose who is just in time for a beer. We wind up our day and head back to the hall for a good night´s rest.

Walking Day Six - Puente La Reina to Estella

Morning is cool and brisk. I wake up and find Tom shivering in our dorm room. He slept outside with Roger and Denise but he doesn´t quite have the gear and early morning is cool no matter what the day temperature ends up being. Roger has once again prepared coffee for us on his "pocket rocket". We drink up, nibble on some bread and jam and prepare once more to hit the trail. Today´s destination is Estella, 21 kilometers away. It is still dark as we start walking. Roger and Denise and Jose and Maite are prepared for early morning walks. They are wearing headlamps which light the way and Tom and I are grateful to follow. The rising sun doesn´t take long in making its appearance and soon starts heating up the morning.

The camino is now winding its way through gorgeous green vineyards with laden with baby grapes. Olive trees are also now starting to dot the vista. We continue with our jovial conversations about noises in the night. Although, today there are fewer jokes since Tom and Roger two of the major contributors were outside during the night. Nonetheless, we find endless humor and silliness to be major topics of conversation. All the translating, however, is begin to make my head spin. Jose will ask me a question in Spanish for Roger and I turn to him and ask him in Spanish instead of English or vice-a-versa. Everyone thinks this is hilarious.

We make our usual morning stop at the first open bar for coffee and breakfast and to buy a bocadillo (spanish sandwich) for the road. Aside from walking, our other activity seems to center around food: either finding some or eating some. At this point in our journey, it is quite the necessity. Our bodies are burning up quite a bit of fuel. I have had to remove a strap from my backpack to fashion a belt. My shorts were falling off and flashing my underpants, something I was always bugging the boys to stop doing. I still don´t get how it´s fashionable to walk with your pants falling down your backside. To me it is just really uncomfortable (although right now I take great pleasure in the fact that I´ve lost enough weight for it to happen.)

(to be continued later)