No Hay Blog

We were the last ones out of the Albergue, sleeping in to the late hour of 6:30 meant most of the pilgrims would have a 45 minute jump on us - not that it mattered. Today, we were only going to Viana, about 2/3 of a normal day and as of yet, there hasn't really been any competition to get into the dorms. Given the number of people that walk the Camino every year, Janine and I did a back-of-the-envelope calculation and felt there should be about 400 people in each of the major stops at the end of each day - there weren't. Most of the end stops seem to easily support about 200 guests and we questioned if there were even 100 in town on any given night - most Albergues seem half full. Even at the end stages which we had walked seven years ago (the last 100 km which is where 25% of pilgrims start), the competition for beds had been more fierce but it never seemed like the hoards that would be needed if the statistic of 200,000 compostelas (certificates) each year is true.

From Los Arcos, we had another relatively long pre-breakfast walk to Sansol and then on to Torres del Rio with the very small, but very historically significant octagonal church (think Knights of the Templar). Between here and the 11 km to Viana there was little other than the makeshift shrine at the high point in today's trail and a makeshift diner in the middle of nowhere (hats off to industrious Cafe Lusita).

We arrived in Vianna to see a few of the people that we would lose because of the short day. The most notice able was the young Spanish woman who lives in Logrono and had bravely limped through a great deal of the trail so far.

We passed on the chance to sleep in the church annex (on mats with 16 other people) but did go back to Mass and get blessed by the priest. Viana is a sweet little town and we enjoyed exploring it, especially the crumbling ruins of the Iglesia de San Pedro - it was like a church without a top.

No philosophical insights today. It's late. I did a little research on hay versus straw today but nothing yet to report.

Test post

havin difficulty uploading images. Test pic from this morning.

This is the church, this is the steeple...

Our plan to get up and beat the heat more or less succeeded. And because of the lack of proper cappuccino stands, we ended up hiking half our distance by breakfast. The little town of Azqueta had a perfect oasis for watering our metaphorical camel. From there we did what thought would be a difficult climb to Montejardin - another small village sitting below ruins of a thousand year old fortress. As we were hiking up, I suddenly noticed a hoard of hikers behind us - we both guessed that a bunch of pseudo-pilgrims had been dumped by bus at the bottom of the hill. The made it to the top, got there credentials stamped, and were never seen again - we imagined they went back down the way they came and then headed off for their next mini-hike.

Wine Fountain along the Way

The last 6 km was hot and long. We ran across a couple that we've dubbed "Knee Braces" as one has a brace on their left knee and the other has a brace on their right knee. We had noticed them the previous day as the woman had rescued an injured bird and was inquiring of the locals as what she might do with it. Today, the man was looking pretty injured himself. We offered them cookies in the shade of a lone tree but they refused. I did manage to get the man to drink some of my water. They were both young and we only had about another hour to go, but I imagine they had to summon up some inner reserves to limp into Los Arcos.

The Mother of all Haystacks

Los Arcos is small but Janine's historical tome (this trip in Kindle form) listed the church as one of the best on the Camino. Having seen Leon and Santiago, I was skeptical but it was impressive. I found particularly interesting the Black Virgin Mary (evidently a common thing) which had been white-faced.

Vaulted Dome Ceiling in Los Arcos Church

One of the things that has always surprised me is how big churches are - particularly the vaulted ceilings. I understand desire to point towards the heaven and be closer to God but it seems like a large waste of space - I wondered if their might be some other architectural or historical reason for their size. In doing a little I nternet research I learned that most churches (and castles) often mimic the safe places of earliest humans - hills. In addition, my sense that these places often seem supernatural because they are so large is exactly what many of the builders were going for: Inspire a sense of awe and draw our eyes and thoughts towards heaven. I also
found an interesting article about steeples and the ROI of a copper steeple over a wooden one, but that will have to wait for another time.

It's not the lack of water, it.s the heat that kills you...

Being overly dramatic again but both of us thought we'd be risking heat stroke if we had continued on today. We stopped just short of Estella, the top of the page for those following the Camino Guide. We swore off the 90+ degree heat for the afternoon of the 4th of July. Instead we chose to luxuriate at the Albergue Casa Magica in their amazing shower and by their pool. Happy Birthday 'Murica!
Highlights from the day include not dying rom the heat, a myriad of beautiful churches, a delicious picnic lunch in the shade of a Roman era bridge, more sightings of the Donkey Couple, and a nice dinner in the city we never made it to (Estellla - we took a cab, then back tracked - still have to walk it in the morning ).

Quite honestly, if anyone is reading this,keep the other pilgrims in your prayers. I fear for those with a schedule to keep. The heat tomorrow could make the hiker with a later start make really bad decisions. Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid day sun.

Puente La Reina

The Bum (ankle) makes it over the pass

We slept in this morning in our little apartment on the fourth floor of the Albergue by the French Gate in Pamplona. The plan was to go to mass in the Cathedral around 9:30 and then see how far I could make it on my leg. We left the outskirts of Pamplona and made our way toward the 900 meter pass known as Alto de El Perdon. A couple of small villages along the way would allow us to stop if I thought I was going to injure myself further - we pressed on and made it down a treacherous downhill. We stopped somewhat short of a full day but both of us seem to be done and the ankle was only slightly swollen.

Other than stunning views, the highlight of the day was probably the climb and the monument at the top of the mountain (made famous in "The Way" - see my previous post about Emilio Estevez's death).

I'm getting into the habit of trying to light a candle for loved ones who have passed. I try to light one in one of the churches that we visit each day. I feel that I haven't been touched by death that often, so I'm surprised that the list is as long as it is. It seems a nice practice to spend a little time reflecting on what each of these people have meant to me. Today I lit a candle for Ray - a close friend who died in 2009. Ray would have loved the Camino (at least all the people - he may have been so-so on the walking). He definitely would have talked to everyone on the road and attempted to speak Italian to them all. RIP Ray.

Injury on the Road To Pamplona

If you don't want to be completely grossed out, don't scroll down to see Janine's injury. She hurt herself pre-Camino but it was (and is) a concern. I'll put something more pleasant in the post first so if this gets re-posted to Facebook that the accompanying picture is not her knee catastrophe.

Mike in the Morning. Pre-Pamplona, Pre-Injury

Since this blog is all about me, I'm here to talk about my possible injury - and it's not the sciatica / ischial tendonopathy old-man injury stuff I've been dealing with for the last 18 months. I was hoping not running for a month might fix that particular problem. The Camino is a strange place and I often joke that after the first week everyone has what I call the Camino Limp - there is some small part of you that is out of whack and the rest of your body is adjusting for it. I spotted my first case of it today, a young woman slightly favoring one leg. A little further down the road, a Japanese young man that was stepping gingerly on one foot. I had been worried about a blister on my bottom right foot but had wisely changed out of my wet shoes for the last hour yesterday and put on my Tivas - disaster avoided. But then, as we were getting close to Pamplona today, I noticed the outside of my left shin was rather tight. As the afternoon progressed, it really felt like a weird case of shin splints - so now what the hell do we do? It's not too painful to walk but I don't want to damage it further. I'm icing as I write. We wanted to spend a little longer in Pamplona anyway so I think the plan will be to stay here in the morning and do a half day tomorrow, probably just a few hours of walking. If it gets worse, I may end up on a beach while Janine continues the walk.

As for Janine's injury, she massively wiped out while running a few weeks back - hit some uneven sidewalk hit all fours - her knee taking the worst of it - one of the nastiest scrapes I've ever seen. Why do I bring it up now? One reason is that it's been a constant concern - a pharmacist in Biarritz told her to go see a doctor (two weeks after the fact). She's been minding it well and it seems to be on the mend. But then WHY subject the reader to the horrific image that follows? Because Jesus too has such wounds. Twice now we've been in churches where Christ is bleeding from the knees. I'm used to the wounds on the side but I've never noticed the knees. Check out the pictures below and see if you can determine which is which.

First Real Day and Letting go

Our first day was really 1/3 mileage, albeit 700 meters of climbing. The second day was 2/3 long, just a village beyond where everyone else stopped. Today, was really our first full day, about 23 km of walking on mixed terrain in pouring rain (it's supposed to fall mainly in the plain!).
We did our soon-to-be typical stop for breakfast and cappuccinos after about an hour of walking. We ran into people from our first night off-and-on as the today progressed. Kathy, the teacher from Newport Beach, just arrived at the Albergue where Janine and I currently sit reading (and writing) while sipping an adult beverage of our choice. A little bit of laundry, socks and underwear, sits nearby drying on the line. I just finished reading the 10 page training manual given to us by our dog Jackomo's boot camp - they swear they can help with his leash aggression - the dog's stay may turn out to be the most expensive part of our vacation.

A Typically Ridiculously Adorable Spanish Village

Other than our endless walking, not much to report - the rain does lend itself much to sight-seeing or socializing on the road. We think as we near Pamplona tomorrow that both aspects may improve.

The vagrant life we've chosen for the next month requires a bit of letting go. For both Janine and I, it requires constant effort to allow the other to occasionally be in charge despite our own opinions. It requires not worrying about the things that were lost or left behind, so far - a walking stick, a new hat, sandwiches (twice), and my credential (which magically appeared later). These things which we think we need are often useful for our journey but so rarely critical. The walking stick may have been a burden. The Camino provided a new hat today. New meals were purchased. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I feel extremely grateful that the second cup of cappuccino is not going to break the bank. There are others on the road that are flying much closer to the ground in regards to their expenses.

I hope that letting go will also let us both think more about what's really important. What's important today and for the next 20 years? We have a lot of time to think while walking under Spanish skies.