Tues. 29/05/07 Calahorra to Arrubal

1. 

Calahorra to Arrubal

Today's step according to the guidebook, had no water for 18 kilometres so I carried three small bottles. It had not been hot that should be enough, but as I had been unable to leave the Albergue yesterday evening I had little food. I found a café for breakfast on the far side of the square, the one with the church of Santiago in it. I still had the town map and knew I was to leave by the road to Murillo. I was lucky, I asked at one large junction as I had got my bearings wrong and would have turned left instead of right. I had to turn left later and at this junction I found and took the road to Murillo, crossed the railway again and this now stayed on my left for some ten kilometres. I think it was at the end of this that I got in a bit of a muddle. I had this idea in my head that I should go under not over the line!
I had to get up onto the big flyover that crossed my path and cross over the line using this then find the camino again on the other side. I was lucky as I asked a passing van driver coming down my stony track in a cloud of dust. I would have been ok if I had gone on further because there were arrows. I had tried to go under using a water channel but it was too muddy and I had given up. The track now undulated and followed the motorway. The views were great with poppies and wild flowers growing in the fields.










I decided to stop for a snack. There was a fence alongside the motorway but just ahead I saw a rest area and as there was nothing on this track of mine to sit down on I climbed the fence and sat at one of the picnic tables. I cut my very hard loaf and filled it with chorizo and a bit of cheese. Well the birds might peck at this bread but I had a lot of trouble with it. Still I might get something in the next town although my guidebook said no albergue there. I came down from the ridge I had been walking on and down into the valley. On the way I passed what I thought must be a small solar electric station under construction.
I came to the village and noticed the arrow went left and bypassed the village so I went down the street of houses opposite my turning. I came to a bar door set in the row of houses, opened it, pushed aside the beads and went in. It was a large dimly lit bar with only a couple of men in it. I asked the barman for my usual white coffee. I heaved off my rucksack and put it on a chair and sat at a table. While he was making the coffee I asked
"Can I eat here?"
"Si hombre".
"You can leave your rucksack by the wall at the end and eat in the restaurant. It will be safe there" he said pointing to the wall and heavy wooden double doors at the end.
He went on to say something else but I never caught what it was as I opened the restaurant doors to look. A great hubbub of sound hit my ears and I was staring into a very packed restaurant that was obviously full up with young male diners! I must have shown my surprise on my face as I closed the doors because he was laughing as he said
"Just wait a while till some come out, it shouldn’t be long."
I can only presume there was a lot of work going on in this sleepy village, maybe the new solar station!
A young woman came out from a door at the restaurant end of the bar and he told her I wanted a table as she grabbed a bottle from the shelf and returned back to the restaurant. I was given my coffee and had just finished it when two men came out and went up to the bar for coffee. A couple, I presume a workman and his partner had come into the bar from the street while I had been sitting. Now the young waitress opened the doors of the restaurant saw the couple and ushered them rapidly in. A few more diners came out before she had time to settle these two at a table by the door. Poor girl was obviously rushed off her feet but there was no panic in her eyes as she looked up and beckoned me in.
The dining room was panelled vertically with rough pine giving it a log cabin look. I presume it was this and the thick walls of the old building that sound proofed the room. My table was over by the far wall and I squeezed past the other tables but once in I had lots of room and sat with my back to the wall. On my left sat a man on his own eating a stew.

To my right towards the corner that was stacked with boxes, a large effigy of a witch with a big hooked nose stood grinning at me wide eyed! A larger round table (than those we sat at) was next on the other wall and on top stood another much smaller cutely dressed witch by a vase of flowers and behind both a very large pumpkin. Then no more tables but the kitchen door. As I said the centre and the rest of the room was filled with tables and noisy chatting men.

The waitress that I now thought of as the real young witch

asked me what I would like to drink and I asked for the local red house wine as I believed this was a place for good red wine. She brought one and one for the chap sitting at my side. She opened his bottle then he explained this was a much superior wine for a little extra. The girl looked at me and I nodded for her to bring another bottle of the better wine, the (crianza). She did and I toasted my neighbour when the girl poured it. There was no written menu. She reeled off several things and I struggled to understand and remember what they were. When she had finished I was still but a little wiser! The chap to my side saw my puzzled expression and recommended the stew he was eating.
I asked the pretty witch what it was called and was told but was still no wiser.
"What meat is it?" I asked.
She obviously struggled with that question so I said
"Toro?" (bull) as the word for beef eluded me, anyway I had an inkling it might possibly be something considered by Spaniards to be good for your manhood! Going by how much the man next to me kept saying how good it was!
"No es toro!" she laughed.
I laughed too, ok I like to try things that I have never eaten before and the orange stew looked appetising enough.
"First the fish soup, and then the stew" I said.
While I waited I took a quick photo of the witch to my right and another of the little one on the table.
The soup was very good and as I finished, up came the stew. No it wasn't beef and the texture was not like meat that I knew. I was hungry and it tasted good so I soon cleared the plate. It dawned on me it might be tripe! But how could I ask that? I would get the waitress to write it down and later look in the dictionary!
She cleared my table and brought me a nice flan. I asked for the bill and asked if she would write down what it was I had eaten and also might I take a photo of the autentico Bruja (real witch). A little embarrassed she let me take her photo. It was a great meal and a real surprise to find such a nice restaurant and charming and friendly service in such a small village. My friend at the table had also finished eating and I went to meet him in the bar and we had an orujo together before I set off on the camino again a little under the weather!
The camino shortly climbed up a hill













and on for a while alone along a lonely track with some fantastic views.

I then the came down a bit and there was a junction in the track with an arrow pointing right. My guidebook said nothing about turning right but the arrow was clear enough. I turned and went along this valley between two hills, then it descended and I came to an ermita (Chapel).
It was marked with a plaque (Nuestra Señora de Aradón). In the book it had mentioned that there might be an alternative route past an ermita Virgen de Anadón. Although spelt differently I could presume this was the same ermita, or at least I hoped I could!! At the bottom of the gully was a railway line. I turned left along the track that ran parallel with it and walked past some impressive reddish grey cliffs on my left with layers of white alabaster running through them. Big eagles were circling high up, or were they vultures waiting for passing peregrinos to drop in for lunch! chuckle!

Photo looking back Cliffs

Later on I had no alternative but to cross the railway line and take a tiny track on the right of it. It was very overgrown and I became quite worried that this might not be camino and would just fizzle out. I was also thinking of finding a campsite for the night as it was getting late. Several places were considered but with rain clouds above, each spot was discarded for one reason or other. I had no food and little water now.
I came out of the woods into farming area. There was a van over the far side some distance away but thinking the railway line must be kept to my left, because according to my mud map in the guidebook. The rail should go all the way to Logroño.
'That's if it is the same railway line that I believe it to be. Oh! I desperately hope that it is!' I thought to myself as I entered the woods again on the other side. The track was muddy but more prominent now, as the farmers must use it to get here in their van. I came to an old derelict looking farm on a rise and passed to the left of it and was happy to see the railway line over to the left again. I was now walking over what looked like moor-land. It looked like there might be a river in trees far to my right now. This tallied with the mud map. The track forked and forked again but all were heading for a distant village I could just see. It was going to be dark soon and I was so tired I could go no further. I cut across the scrub heading for a bush between the tracks and the river, thinking my little tent would not show behind it to anyone using the tracks. The bush was a wild rose and I put up the tent close to it.
In my tired state I mislaid some tent pegs so I cut off bits from the prickly rose and pointed the spiteful things with my penknife and used them. I now pulled over the plastic sheet, black side up. No one would think anything of it here if they saw it. I hoped for no rain and crawled in for the night as the lights now flickered on in the distant village! I looked again later when I had to get up for a call of nature and the village lights and the brilliant stars above looked wonderful but it was cold so I soon got back in and zipped up my tent and snuggled down again.

END DAY 14 = approx 29.7 km Total = 322.4 km according to book

28/05/07 Alfaro to Calahorra

Mon 28/05/07

Alfaro to Calahorra

I took down my washing and packed away what had dried. The rest, socks and pants, I pinned on the outside of my rucksack after all my other gear had been stowed away, only thing was, I forgot the washing line! It was left up and would catch out the next person that walked in the room! I never remembered for days till I went to use it again. "Sorry Mr policeman!!!"
I went along to the office and a nice lady policeman took the key and I set of to look for a bar to have breakfast! I asked a man and he pointed out a bar that looked closed but when I got to it and looked inside there was a barman. The coffee was good but they only had the usual pre-packed cakes. I now walked the two kilometres out of town to the Emita and took a photo of the little church where I had tried to sleep. The camino turned off to the right here and I followed the arrows.









I crossed the train line and it was not very interesting and straight, following the railway for much of the way with a wind blowing in my face. My little toe was giving me hell, and after a while, looking for a dry place to sit and not finding anything, I unloaded my rucksack, got out my first aide kit, sat on the blue metal gravel that supports the railway line. The top layer was dry fairly close to the line, and I removed my boot. I put cream and stuck plasters on the offending toe and wrapped the complete toes on that foot in a piece of chamois leather that I carry just for an occasion like this. As I carefully rolled on my sock I saw the train coming round the curve. I thought I'd be ok, and it blew its whistle and went by two or three feet from me. Crikey! I hadn't allowed for the wind or the noise!!! I huddled down trying to cover my ears. I would give fast moving trains more space next time! Back on the track again and in ten kilometres of my starting point I arrived at Rincon del Soto. I deviated into town to find a bar.

I found one that was very busy, ordered and asked a local man if it was ok for me to sit at his table, and we chatted while I ate a nice tortilla con jamón bocadillo and drank a coffee con coñac. The brandy was not for me, just for my feet I assured my companion! The omelette sandwich was so good and I guess I was hungry that I ate it all and ordered another to take with me. The bar lady cooked it and wrapped it well in tinfoil for me and I paid and put it in my bread bag that hangs on the outside of my rucksack. I found my way back and left the small town. The next twelve km were hard,












a cold head wind over open ground and my feet hurting. For quite a while I could see the town ahead and it very slowly came closer.
There's a beautiful building on the left as you come to the town, the Santuario de la Virgen del Carmen but I was too tired to go over to it to see it closer but admired it from a distance. I came to a junction and turned across a bridge into the town over the canal de Lodosa. There was a big church on my right and the main road went left but a small road could be seen climbing up just to the left of the church. I saw arrows and headed for it and up the steep road. There was a small bar on my right and I decided I badly needed a coffee if I was to continue up this hill.
There was little room for a chap with a big rucksack but I got through to the right of the counter up two steps and dumped the bag and my cape on a chair then ordered a large white coffee and a splash of brandy. It was a cosy little bar but I was the stranger and no one spoke unless they had too. Feeling stronger now I left them but first asked where the albergue was. I was told to climb the hill till I got to the flight of steps then to go up them. "It's somewhere there but we don’t know which house it is."
I did as instructed and climbed to the top but still never saw a sign or anyone to ask. All but a few steps to the top, there was an iron gate over a steel door in the building to my right. I read a small plaque, saw that this was the albergue and pressed the bell, banged on the door and made as much noise as I could when the first thing never worked. But still nothing! It was an old building with no windows at low level. A big iron gate two meters high stopped me from going through to a patio at the end, where I could see what looked like a bar entrance. I gave up and turned left and up the last few steps. To my right was a very imposing church, straight ahead an open square with seats and a few trees.

(The photo is looking back to the Albergue from here.)

I went through this square and found a Red Cross building with big glass doors. I could see a young lady at a desk but she knew nothing of the albergue.

"Have you tried the council building opposite?" she asked.

I found another large glass door in the old building that I thought she meant and went in. An entrance hall with steps down to a lounge with nice blue velvet armchairs and a coffee table but no one about!
I called out "Ola"
A voice sounded down the stairs on my left. I climbed them glad of my two staffs. In front of me a small counter and a young woman asked what I wanted and I explained.
"Well I know very little about it but I can ring for you" she offered and went back to her desk and phoned.
Coming back she said,
"The man said he would come to open it later, if you would like to walk into town and find something to eat, by the time you get back it will be open. Would you like to leave your pack here? I will probably be gone but I will leave a message with my co-worker that it's yours and where to find it."
I accepted her offer and she came through the flap in the counter, unlocked a door on the side and said
"It will be safe locked in here."
I now asked,
"How do I get to the part of town where there might be a restaurant?"
She gave me a map and instructions. Well prepared I now left.
I was at the very highest point of town I believed and reading the map carefully proceeded down the narrow streets till about half way down the hill, I came to a junction I turned right and went up again at right angles. I made sure I understood every change of direction and found the map very useful. I was also glad I had left my rucksack behind, this was hard work even without it! 'People here would be very fit' I thought!
I now found myself walking into a big square and realised I was now at the top of this hill. On my right was the imposing church dedicated to Santiago,I could see the restaurant she had recommended on its left but could see from here it was closed. As the church door was open, I decided to enter the church, too often they are locked! I went in and it was a beautiful church with lots of guilt and gold with a few lights on, giving a warm cosy feeling. It was very quiet and I was, as far as I could see, the only person here.
As you know my camino had been hard and lonely this year. I am now right up the top of the Ebro camino and in Calahorra. I am hungry and tired waiting for an albergue to open. I have walked into this church on the spur of the moment, to say my thanks for getting me this far and to thank all those people who had helped me. I went near to the front and knelt in the pews and bowed my head, said my thanks. I had not felt as comfortable in any of the churches on my way here. There were, as far as I could see, no candles I could light. Nothing but a warm cosy feeling and as I came out I felt good. I had found a friend here! Daft I know but that's how it felt and for weeks afterwards could feel comfort when alone as if he (Santiago) was beside me and I often sang words something more or less on the lines of this poem. I call it
On the Ebro Camino with my friend Santiago

On the Ebro
Santiago walked with me!
For I found peace and tranquillity.
I'd come so far and my feet were sore
when we two met, by a studded door.
Calahorra was the place we met.
It still feels strange and weird as yet.
He was there, but you couldn't see

but I knew that he walked close to me.
This was a friend now by my side
a companion that doesn't have to hide.
The yellow arrows were always clear
while I knew him and could feel him near
On the Ebro

I have shared this poem a few times with some of my old and some new peregrino friends I was to meet afterwards. One dear friend commented when I said it must sound daft!

"Thank you for the poem, I think I know how you felt and it is never daft!! Hard to say maybe it was the mystery of friendship that touched you while you were there, thanking and thinking of your friends. Anyway this old peregrino Santiago knows how you feel when you are lonely, hungry and tired as you put all that down, near the rucksack and go and thank him and have a thought for your friends!"

I have had spiritual and strange things touch me on camino before but this was one of the few times away from the line of the French camino and Finisterra. Now I question, how wide would this line be? After all it is said some pilgrims on the French route passed through Calahorra on their way to Santiago!


I came out of the church and stood by that large door thinking for a moment. Hunger made my thoughts return to my quest of coming here in the first place to eat.
Looking round I found in the narrow street to the left an Andalucía tapas bar. I felt I wanted something more, a full meal. I went back to the square and asked a man and was told to try the restaurant on the other side of the square. This was closed too! I realised it must be that time of day. Ok so back to the pretend Andalucían bar where I had a beer and piece of potato omelette (tortilla español). Nothing else in the glass case looked very freshly cooked, most were sea food and mussels can be a risk if just warmed up I think, so I left still hungry and headed back hoping to get in the albergue. It was time my luck changed, I'm thinking as I carefully negotiated the narrow streets and climbed back up to the Council office. My first assistant had gone but the new lady was just as helpful. No, she had heard nothing about the albergue but she would phone for me again. After the phone conversation she returned to the counter and said the man would come as soon as he could. If I would like to go down stairs and wait in the lounge he would be here in a short while. I got her to unlock the room where my rucksack was and took it below to the lounge to wait.
I had completely forgotten other people have to eat too! This was siesta time for the Spanish here!
I made myself comfortable on the chairs and I dozed for a while. I was disturbed from my doze when the door opened and a man entered, stopped at the stairs and then turned to me
"Are you the peregrino?" He didn't sound too happy to be there.
"Er yes that’s me."
"Come follow me".
He returned to the door and waited while I got my rucksack and staffs and followed him out. Crossing the square he asked where I had walked from and his tone softened as I explained I had walked from Tortosa near Tarragona.
We got to the albergue and he produced a set of keys and proceeded to open it and we entered the small lobby and turned into a large high room with a reception desk. But the thing that struck me was the opulence of the place we had entered. In front were huge glass doors with crests and flowery patterns etched on them, everything look brand new. I seemed to be in a four star hotel! He asked for my credential and took the details and I explained it only showed from Tudela as that was the first place I had been able to get one but that I had other stamps in my guide book.
"No problema, Tortosa dicho?" and he entered it in the book. I was then escorted upstairs and shown a nice clean room with three single beds, the spotless bathroom was adjoining.







"Have you eaten" he asked
"No all I could find was tapas in town"
"Ok you clean up then come downstairs. Go through the glass doors into the restaurant."
"I have time to shower"?
"Yes I'll ring the bell"
Left on my own I could not believe my new found luck. The shower was fabulous, hot and easy to control, I soaked and lathered in luxury dried and put on clean clothes. Well my trousers were the same ones, I had only one pair of long pants! I had walked at times in shorts and managed to wash them but not too recently!



I heard the bell as I pulled on my last bits and quickly slipped on my flip-flop sandals and went down. My new acquaintance was at the superbly well stocked bar. What would you like to drink he said.
"A red wine please"
Asking my preference as to dry or sweet, he selected a very fine Rioja wine and de-corked it and poured me a long stemmed crystal glass full! Then he discussed the best wines to drink here - I was beginning to like this place! He turned and placed a large dish of green olives on the counter.
"What would you like to eat fish or meat"
"Oh! Err, meat please" I said through a mouthful of delightful olives!
"Pork, lamb, or veal?"
"Veal please "
"Ok won't be long" and he disappeared into the large kitchen that I could see through a door behind the bar. Shortly he came back and set a table for one and invited me to sit. Fine wine, superb surroundings, spotless white tablecloths, crystal glasses. I must be dreaming!
"Thank you" said I, taking a sip of the glass of red nectar.
He soon returned and carefully spooned two extremely large veal cutlets onto my plate and a great heap of chips, then placed the empty tray on the bar counter.
I asked him to join me in a glass of wine and he agreed, retrieved a glass and filled it, and sat on a nearby barstool with his glass of the Rioja. We chatted while I ate and time flew. The building as I understood him to say, belonged the university and was used by Spain's finest orchestras and guests when they came here to play and study. He was also studying music at university.
'Good God Pavoroti might have stayed here!!!!' I thought suitably impressed.
No wonder he had been peeved at having to open up this building for one scruffy peregrino!
He went on to say he was married and his wife was at home in Madrid. He tried to get home as much as possible, and he went on to ask if I was married. The conversation then covered my family and my five caminos in Spain till the bottle was almost empty.
"Your choice of sweet - yoghurt, flan or ice cream? I chose icecream.
"I must go" he apologised looking at his watch.
He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with my desert.
"I have to leave. Will you be staying inside as I can't leave you the key?"
"All I want to do is sleep after that superb meal and I shall leave early in the morning."
"Ok just make sure the door is properly closed when you leave. A cleaner will wash up!" "Ok, I'll just leave the things on the bar." I said.
It was early but with that big meal inside of me I would sleep well tonight!

END DAY 13 = 22.3 kms Total = 292.7 kms according to book

Sat 26/05/07 Bocal to Tudela

Sat 26/05/07

Bocal to Tudela

As I left I took some photos of the gatehouse and read the guidebook, this was a palace of Carlos the 5th and prison of Pignatelli, a good place to rest before walking the last five kilometres to the city of Tudela, said my guidebook. The good place to rest tickled my sense of humour. I would have an easy day and take a day off in the city I thought.

I crossed the bridge and travelled down the left bank of the canal, therefore I never saw much of the palace or the park, and again arrows didn't comply with the book as far as I could see! I came to the railway bridge at the entrance to Tudela and stopped in the centre because the guidebook said from here I should see the pilgrims refuge and also see the bronze markers put to guide the peregrino. I saw nothing!!
I crossed the bridge and turned right and got to where I was supposed to see arrows or something, nothing. Ok, must be in this general direction. Then I saw one and came to an albergue but the gates were bolted and not a soul to ask. It looked as if it had been deserted for some time. There was a number to phone but no one answered. I was out of luck again. I set off into the town centre and here found arrows and a tourist office near the cathedral. I asked in Spanish but she spoke perfect English. I was supplied with a town map and she marked where I could hopefully find accommodation. Also for a Euro she sold me a Pilgrims Credential. At last I had got one!!!! She explained here there was an albergue run by the Red Cross, but that was for tramps and down and outs I gathered. I might loose more cash there I decided. The Fonda close by looked more promising, I would go there first.
I found the area but the bar that I was supposed to ask in was closed. A Welshman said he also wanted a room as he had stayed one night but had decided to stay one more, but the café was closed and he didn't know what he could do. I speak reasonable Spanish so I tried asking in the dress shop next door. The girl in there was helpful and came out and said I should try the door in between hers and the bar. She came with me and pushed the intercom bell. A female voice asked what we wanted and the young lady said a man wanted a room. The door clicked unlocked and I opened it. The door opened into a staircase and I climbed the stairs. The woman's voice called down something but I had got nearly to the top and continued up till I could see her standing holding a door half-open. I asked her if there was a room for me.
Pushing a young child that was holding onto her leg inside she exclaimed
"Not for you" and slammed the door in my face.
I stood there dumb struck for a moment then turned and went down. The Welshman was still there and I told him what had happened.
"Wow! You had better go back to the tourist office I suppose."
This I did and I unloaded my rucksack on to the floor while I waited for the girl to finish with the person before me.
I explained what had happened
"Oh dear" she said "you should not use the word Robo that means I robbed!"
Good God! I found myself telling her what had happened in Barcelona in English. Again she said
"Never use the word 'Robo' say 'y saca mi dinero!' I will phone for you" she said picking up the phone.
"Go back now" she said.
As I was getting my pack on and collecting my sticks the Welshman ran in and said
"The bar is open I have my room but you should hurry!"
I went back and now sure enough the bar was open. I went in and asked the barman and I paid and was given a key to a room in a house opposite on the first floor! The Welshman Mel was in the room next door. Later we swapped story's he was cycling from Coruña to Tarragona sea to sea. I wished him luck!
"Can't help with names of places to stay but if you keep to the main road you should find some hostels ok" I said tongue in cheek! I spent most of the afternoon looking round the old town and it had many interesting streets and of course the cathedral.














I saw a newly married couple having their wedding photos taken and also a young girl's communion. I took a few nice photos of both.
















Also there was an interesting market in a square that had games for children to play as well as the market stalls. I watched for a while. Children tried to walk on wooden skis or swing a ball on a pole to knock down skittles and other games.
I left and found a bank and got more Euro's for the next stage of my journey. I ate tapas in several bars for a meal this used several of them! Coffee was taken with nice cakes in a baker's come coffee shop near the market. It is fairly unusual in Spain to find chairs and tables and the chance to eat the gorgeous cream cakes and pastries with a coffee. Coffee is usually found in a bar or restaurant, although breakfast can be fresh delivered pastries or croissant in a bar, but quite often now a days pre-packed factory type fairy cakes and supermarket pastries are more usual.

END DAY 11 = 5.2 Kms Total = 251.9 kms according to book

Sun 27/05/07

Tudela to Alfaro

I walked out of Tudela ok, as I had looked at the shells in the pavement yesterday. I found the railway and went under it and turned left and walked the track parallel with it. A man was standing by his car and told me the track was private and led only to the small gardens that were on my right but I had seen arrows and knew I was right, so thanked him but said what I was doing and kept straight on. The track stayed by the railway for some while, then at the council depot, arrows took me out to the right and I neared the river. I stopped at a garden hut and sat on a brick seat and drank half a litre of milk I had been carrying. I must admit the energy returned, and I managed to do this several mornings afterwards. I left the hut and its shelter from the cool wind. It was hard going and I knew by the direction, I was being given a so-called prettier way to go. A pilgrim is more interested in getting from A to B unless it is the original camino or stunningly beautiful! This way turned out to be very ordinary, flat farmland and trees by the river and rough farm tracks and poorly marked.
I had to take a chance several times on which path to take. I came to a fork in the track with no marker straight ahead and which looked unused but so was my camino. I turned left and it soon bent round going back the way I had come! But then it turned to the right again over a rise. Should I go back or keep going? I thought 'go to the rise and look over' and this I did. From the top I could see the railway power lines crossing left to right. My rough track headed over to them. The book said the camino followed the railway so I'd get over to them. I came to them and the track turned again back towards Tudela!! But I could see a bridge and on the other side of the railway, a road ran back towards me on the other side of the railway line. Ok I walked to the bridge and crossed over turned north again, this time on the other side of the railway track passing where I had looked and seen the bridge. I realised I could have walked by the railway all the way and got to here in half the time and distance that I had tramped!
Now I had miles of straight gravel road in front of me.
I met a man running towards me and later he passed me again, going back home I presume. I must be near civilisation I thought as he disappeared! I came to Castejon and my feet were bad and hurting but I felt ok just mainly tired and very hungry!
It was a nice little town and being Sunday folk were milling around and sitting at tables in the square but as far as I could see they were only drinking. On a corner I saw a Burger bar but it looked as if I could only get bocadillos or burger at the most. I asked two women standing outside if there was a restaurant or bar I could get a real meal, not bocadillos. "There is a restaurant but why not here!" they said pointing to the little bar in front of us.
"They will serve you what you want and cheaper"
"OK I'll try it thank you." I replied.
I went in up to the counter and while I waited to be served I got chatting to three men by who asked why the big pack. I told them I had walked four caminos and was walking this one from Tortosa to Santiago as my fifth. I showed them the camino names carved on my staff. They were really friendly and the lady behind the bar was obviously listening as I told how hard this one had been, what with the bad weather and being the only daft Australian peregrino to walk it I joked. She turned and asked me what I wanted. I said a large white coffee and she turned to make it and continued to listen and joined in the conversation. Giving me the coffee she asked if there was anything else and I explained I was hungry. She immediately offered bocadillos of every description.
"Well what I would really like is meat and some potatoes or chips as I have had bocadillos nearly everyday!" I was exaggerating but I was fed up with so much bread. I beamed when she said
"I would cook some if you would like to wait a moment, chicken, pork or veal?"
I chose the veal. Excusing myself I chose a table and removed my rucksack and put it on a chair, got my coffee and sat at the table. As I did this I removed a Koala. The men came over and stood near and we chatted again till the lady returned with a huge plate on which were two huge pieces of veal and piled high with chips. I gave her the Koala as a thank you, and asked for another coffee. I got my coffee and ate every scrap of the meal, but before I could finish she placed a large bowl of cherries in front of me. I had not eaten like this since I arrived In Spain. The bar was quite full now and my new friends stood around the table talking and the bar lady too. Now finished and full I thanked her and said
"That’s the best meal I've had for ages how much do I owe?"
I could see she was slightly embarrassed as she said
"Nada" (nothing). I could see my protest and offers of payment were making her more so. I rose accepted her gift and said
"I'll hug the Santo for you when I get to Santiago." She smiled and nodded. All waved as I left. Does this moment make up for all the hardships of this camino? Yes, I thought, as I left to find the next yellow arrows.
I arrived in Alfaro and a building that was possibly an albergue was closed up!











I asked a man and he said it was in town and asked if I was the man that had rang? I said no I hadn't but needed a bed for the night. We walked into the town and he suddenly excused himself and went into a house. I was a bit puzzled but I had not understood all he said. I had a coffee in a bar and asked for the albergue again and was told to continue and turn right I would find it. Anyway this I did and came to the large studded door of a three-story building marked albergue. It was closed and I banged on it. It opened by a young lady, I asked if there was a bed for a peregrino.
"No" she said turning and looking at the young man behind her.
I tried again for I thought this was supposed to be a youth hostel albergue.
"I am walking to Santiago and am sixty-seven and just need a bed for the night, It looks like rain."
"We are full" she said pointing to two bikes at the other side of the large slate floored entrance hall.
"The floor will do, I have everything I need to sleep."
"No we are full!"
She was closing the door
"Thank you for your help" I said with a bit of malice in my voice.
Camping again I suppose I thought as I found my way out of town following the Logroño highway. I walked about two km passing tile factories and found some soft light plastic foam sheeting, used to wrap them, in a ditch. It was clean so I rolled it up thinking it might help when I camped. I then came to an ermita. I went to it-it was locked as normal. There were flowers on the wrought iron entrance but the porch was open on two sides. The clouds were rolling in black again. It was early but this porch could make a comfortable shelter for the night. I tried the house behind but could find no one to ask. I unpacked and rolled out the new foam on the tile floor. I would use the tent as a cover for my sleeping bag which it had been made for, put in my sleeping bag and retired.


I had almost dosed off when a car pulled up and a man came over and before he couls speak I asked if it was ok to sleep here. He said no problem but thought I might be cold. I told him my sleeping bag was a good one but my tent was not good enough should it storm. He said goodbye and drove off and I snuggled down again and awoke soon to heavy rain. It was not coming into my part of the porch so I was happy. when I saw the car return and the chap said he had found an albergue for me if I would like to move, and he said he would drive me there. I guessed he was uncomfortable for me to stay here so I packed up and went with him. He said there were two types of albergue, one for workers that travelled to pick crops and another for peregrinos. He thought I had gone to the wrong one. I thought they at least could have told me this at the albergue when I knocked, not just turn me away. I still have my doubts on this but if true it might explain some of the other closed albergues.
I packed the rucksack again and he drove me back into the town. In the square he parked near the police station and said wait here I was and he got out and came back with a policeman!
He got out my rucksack and I was signalled to follow them. We crossed the road and entered an office. At the desk the policeman asked for my new credential and stamped it (I had two stamps now!) and he took my details, passport number etc. He then gave me a key with instructions what to do to return it in the morning. We came out and went to the end building and opened a glass door with bars on and there were bars on the windows on each side too. The door opened into a room with a table and chairs where one could eat, and through that room to a kitchen. In here was a gas heater but it wouldn't light, so there was no hot water. Off this were the toilet and shower and a bedroom with a couple of bunk beds. There was more beds upstairs he said if I would prefer to be there.
"No, this will do fine" I said and both wished me well and left me to settle in.
I realised this was the old prison that was why there was bars on all the windows, to stop people getting out not in!!! Still I had the key! It was quite clean and nice compared to some albergues.
I took a freezing shower and washed my shirts and socks, then stretched my washing line across the kitchen and pinned them up to dry. I also used the shower to wash off the plastic sheet that I had used in the dirty wash place in Bocal as it now stank of cats! The plastic sheet now smelt a bit better but the shower didn't!!! There was no room on my wash line so I hang it in the shower to dry. My washing line was neck high and I had to duck under it to get to the front room but those were the only hooks I could find! I locked the door and chose my bunk and went to bed for the second time that night.

END DAY 12 = 18.5Kms Total = 270.4 kms according to book

24/05/07 Monzalbarba to Liceni

24/05/07

Monzalbarba to Liceni

There were some muddy tracks to Utebo that had a rather lovely church tower showing the Moorish influence.

I tried to get a good photo and went a little way out of my way to get a coffee.
Feeling good again, I backtracked and found the camino and set off through the farmland to the next village, Sobradiel. As I arrived I noticed it was clean and paved and a different type of church altogether, unfortunately closed so I was unable to see inside. As I came to the next village, Torres Berrellen, I passed some cattle sheds and a group of workers were outside and I chatted a few minutes with them. They were very friendly and told me there was a bar in the main square. Refreshed again I left the town, the countryside was very flat and heavily farmed and the track stony. My feet were very tender as I passed Alagón and I was soon deep in the countryside again and tired. I saw a clump of tall trees ahead, and there amongst the poplars I flattened the grass and spread my cape and flopped down and rested, treated my poor feet, and text Maisie








My mobile phone now rang and I was thrilled to talk to Maisie and told her how things were going. I had said very little in my text so as not to worry her!



Maisie notes of that conversation:
He said he was sitting under a tree and had been told that they were having the most rain in 100 hundred years! (not sure if that was a joke or not, chuckle). He said his feet were not too good, and still no other peregrinos on this track and it was a hard walk. He said it was like a wilderness apart from the small villages and there were no email cafes. (There would have been in Zaragoza but he’s trying to avoid the big cities). He said the locals were strange, some helpful but mostly suspicious as they didn’t see many peregrinos and thought he was begging! Chuckle. I said I wondered why he was doing it then, he said so did he. We had a laugh anyway and he was glad I’d phoned. I think he’s a bit lonely, but there should be lots of people walking once he joins the other route in Longrono (I think that’s where the routes join up). Hopefully he’ll text in the morning to let me know where he got to. I don’t think he’ll get as far as Cabanas.


In the next village, Cabiñasas, as far as I could see there was no possibility of an albergue so I continued on hoping for a campsite. In the next little town I looked for a bar. I found a strange little one decorated like it was in Egypt, it was very dark inside and I asked the child that was there sitting on a barstool in the gloom, if I could get a drink. She ran into the backroom and called her mother who came through to serve me. I did not stop long, I felt Egypt was not where I was supposed to be!
I now went down the narrow streets looking for the camino again and a number of kids started to follow this stranger walking with two sticks. They kept back and giggled and hid when I turned to look. I found the road by the river and the statue of Don Pancho that I had seen mentioned in my guidebook. It was not as I had always imagined him but it was a good bronze casting. I turned left along the river road, a large stone bounced in front of me then several more. I was quite peeved as I had tried to be friendly to the kids that now were throwing stones at me! Then as they were ducking behind the buildings I told them I would box their ears in Spanish-well best as my Spanish would allow! I hurried on to the edge of town and they soon lost interest. I spoke to a man seeing to the irrigation trenches. He didn’t seem over friendly and I soon left, telling him I would look for an albergue in the next town.
There were shady poplar tree plantations near the river that here was wide, fast flowing and muddy looking.
These plantations and their soft looking grass were in many cases being flooded by the irrigation and it would not be good to set up then find water all round you. Two local women were walking and I caught up and asked if they knew where I might camp. They were a bit off hand about camping saying it would be better away from the track and in the trees by the river.
"No one should see you there! The guardia might fine you if they find you!"
I had heard that camping in the countryside was frowned on in Spain but this seems quite ridiculous to me. I understood that the farmers might object to camping owing to flattening crops or rubbish left that might harm animals. Well here was one camper that was going to camp till they proved he couldn't. I let the ladies go ahead again, then I headed out across the fields to the river. I went through some trees that were full of brambles and rough ground. I thought the trees in the next field might get flooded as I could see water already there in places.

But I found a rise in the barren field alongside that looked as if it never did flood and here I set up my tiny tent and laid out some old canes I found trying to keep the rucksack off the ground. Just in case!!! I fired up my little spirit stove and cooked a nice, if somewhat strange stew of chorizo with pasta. I'd put in a chicken soup with noodles too. It tasted good, was hot and satisfied my hunger eaten with the loaf of bread that I was carrying. I got water from the river but it was quite muddy so I walked to the flooded trees and managed to bail up a little cleaner looking stuff and washed up my pots then text Maise


.

END DAY 9 = 27.6 Kms!! (he said not so far to-day ??) Total = 213.4 kms according to book

25/05/07

Liceni to Bocal

Maisies text that I saw in the morning was

You did 27.6 on bad feet! Thought you said you would not do so much! Hope feet better soon


In the morning in the next village of Luceni I found a bakery and bought some really nice cakes and things for breakfast and ate one in the shop. Putting on my rucksack I spilled water out of my bottle but the lady was very pleasant and wiped it up and made no fuss about it. I refilled my water bottle in the square from a small fountain, not the main one as that was not drinking water.

To get to Gallur I had some trouble walking on hard roads and it was poorly signed.










I met a lady cleaning her step and she kindly got me a large bottle of water and I gave her a Koala, I told her the story of Barcelona but how she could have misunderstood beats me, if it was her that caused my later problems. Here you follow the river and climb a hill as you leave hardly touching the town. I stopped and rested a bit and drank some of the water, looking out across the valley and the water canal directly below.











I text maisie and she text back my Grandson was sick and I remembered now John and Jo were playing in the hills orchestra in a country town, Maisie was away with them to look after the Emil!


I soon came down from the high point and had a boring walk to Mavllen. I had to chuckle to myself later, you see at one time, a man in a pickup stopped and offered me a lift. Much to my surprise I heard myself say in Spanish "No thank you, I'm on a pilgrimage and said I would walk and so I will, but thank you!" You have no idea how my feet were burning at every step yet I had said that!!!!! I now remember two guardia policemen passed me in a car as I walked the canal road but at the time thought nothing of it. I came to a factory where big trucks were backing out and crossing the bridge over the canal. When they were safely out of the way. I crossed to the left of the canal. here I took the canal path while the trucks had taken the road to the left. By the time I had walked to Mavllen I was ready to stop.




I took the road into the town and asked for directions to a café from a workman, and in the café I asked for a hostel. The waitress went to the kitchen and asked the boss and when she came back I was told, rather aggressively "There is none" Puzzled because this is quite a big town and I felt there must be something, even a hotel! I left and thought I would try in another café a little further on and on the opposite side of the road. I unloaded my rucksack and rain-cape onto a chair and asked again as I ordered a coffee. I was told immediately there are none, they were all full! Maybe I sounded a bit annoyed as I said "There is a rain storm coming and I am 67 years old, surly there is something." The barman really told me off and said again there was no room in this town! I apologised and said I would then sleep out tonight by the canal! He was not softened by this announcement.

I drank my coffee, paid and left. I had been rather shocked at his reply. What was going on? I returned to the canal and crossed the bridge, I even looked at the possibility of sleeping under it but that wasn't viable, if a truck came along the canal bank I would get run over. I would keep going hoping the black clouds would go away but there was nowhere to pitch a tent by the canal anyway! At least it would be flat following the canal! I had to keep going the 2.5 kilometres to Cortes de Navarra. There same thing happened, same reply, "There is nowhere" The storm clouds were building up, now 10.2 kilometres to Ribaforada!!!!! I was getting to my limit, my poor feet, the heavy pack!! I could not believe it again, no Hotels, Hostels, Fondas, rooms, nothing! I somehow had to keep going for another 4.3 kilometres!!! I came to what I thought must be Bocal. The first thing I saw was a bridge over the canal and as I came to it the bank to my right was overgrown and treed but there was a wrought iron gateway ahead under the bridge. Looking through it I could see the canal bank, on the other side, a park of cut grass and some old buildings. The gate was locked, so I could not get through, I now retraced my steps a little way, turned to my right and climbed through the brambles and scrub under the trees and scaled the bank at the side. At the top I turned left and got onto the bridge tarmac road. A yellow arrow on the parapet pointed across the bridge. In front of me there was a big driveway entrance leading too and past a large stone gatehouse. I could see a light burning in the window, it was just getting dusk. I crossed and went in the entrance and up to the door near the lighted window and knocked. A man opened the door and I asked if there was anywhere to stay. He turned to his companion and both shook their heads "There's no where in the village" he said. "Anything-a roof over my head, a floor, I have a tent but there is a storm coming and I am getting desperate. I am sixty seven years old and have been washed out of the tent once and had to sleep outside in rain all night. I can't take it again" Well that’s what I tried to say! They shook their heads again "A roof anything" I pleaded. They spoke together in Catalan I think, as I could not understand much of what was said. The first man said "Well there is…." and a word I did not know. He moved to the door and I thought 'ok I have something' and moved back. They both came out and we walked across the driveway and across a rough lawn past some big oak trees. I could just see a building in the gloom, with a roof about a meter and a half wide. It was the an old wash house. Let me try to explain. Imagine that you dig a big oblong hole about waist deep and concrete the bottom. Now build a oblong tank up to ground height in stone but leaving a meter space on one side and on that side the top stones are smooth and laid with slope inward to beat and scrub the clothes on. On the outside of the gap you build another stone wall up to three meters high. Now put four posts on the edge of the nearest tank wall, the one with the sloping stones. Now join the poles at the top with a beam and pitch a tile roof over the passage to the outside wall. The tank is filled with water like a swimming pool and the ladies stand in the passage in the shade and wash the clothes. A few steps for them to climb out and you should have a mental picture of what was offered me as a shelter! I thanked the men a said it would be better than the tent outside when the storm broke. I was not too sure about that as the rain could flood down the steps and fill the passage and it was open to the elements on the tank side, or at least above the tank wall it was. There was no water in the washing tank as far as I could see but was littered with autumn leaves, and rubbish.
I found my torch, so was the passage!!!


The roof gave shelter to birds, and everything was covered in bird droppings and smelt of cats!! I pushed the leaves up the far end and found the floor was stone. My tent pegs would be no good! I searched around outside and found a few broken roof tiles, and now I rolled out the tent on to the passage floor and it just was wide enough. At the far end was a step up then a few steps down into another small room that I thought must have perhaps been a pump house at one time. I tied a piece of string to the rear corners of the tent, where the pegs would have normally gone. I hooked the string around two broken tiles and jammed them as best I could on the far side of the step. At the other head end, I tried jamming my new walking staff across the passage and tied the guy rope to it and the tent held up, or just about held up. The staff fell out several times and the tiles came unstuck too, but if I was careful it stayed there. I covered most of the tent with the plastic sheet I now carried on the side of my rucksack. I put my rucksack in the plastic bag and looked at the night sky. There seemed a small break in the clouds far away and as yet we had had only a few raindrops. I said a little prayer and undressed and got in the tent. The pole fell out immediately and I started again. This time it held, I was so tired and after what seemed a long while I did sleep. I awoke only once as had to water the countryside behind the building. I noticed the storm had split in two and was passing on each side of this beautiful camping spot!


Some prayers get answered I believe, but if I had known, I would have pitched the tent on the lawn outside!!!. Careful not to collapse my humble abode I got back into bed.

END DAY 10 = 33.3 Kms. Total = 246.7 kms according to book