Day 18 ~ Rabe' to Castrojeriz

(Sunday, May 19th)

My morning starts with a quick Spanish breakfast of day old bread and marmalade. (How do these women have such beautiful figures?) I am lucky enough to sit with Thomas & Rachel, a young couple from New Zealand. I feel instantly at home with him as he is the spitting image and personality of Ray Shoemaker. The only thing that's different is his very cool accent.

After breakfast as we are all preparing to head out in the rain, another couple, Tim & Beth, overhear me say that I'm planning to walk 30k today. Tim suggests that I make a booking and offers to do it for me from his phone. They are from Minneapolis, but he speaks Spanish like he's lived here his entire life. I walk away thinking that I would love more time to chat with them and find out their story but the weather is awful so we all must get a move on.

I am walking alone today and have to confess that I really enjoy it. I can go whatever pace I want and make stops, or not make stops, along the way without having to worry about what another person wants or needs to do. It is a very free feeling. There are times that I miss having conversation and I do miss all the fun that Jenny and I had, but it seems like there are always people in relative close proximity if I'm desperate for a quick chat.

My body is feeling pretty good today so I start off at a strong pace. My plan is to chunk the 30k into 3 separate 10k stints with coffee breaks in between to warm up. The first 10k goes very quickly and on my way out of the bar, I pass Tim and Beth coming in and we all chuckle that again there's no time to chat.

As I start off at a fairly good pace, I come upon two tall men moving slowly through the rain. When I pass by saying, "Buen Camino!" One of the men replies back "Ah, rapido, rapido!" I just keep moving because it's too cold and raining too hard for us to try to chat. He continues along beside me in a sort of taunting way continuing to repeat, "Rapido! Rapido!"
I decide to slow a bit and make introductions then excuse myself and move on, but the formerly unmotivated taxi drivers, Miquel & Alroy, from the Canary Islands have now found a new amusing game. This goes on for quite sometime, approximately 10k, until my next stop when I linger in a bar with wifi for an exceptionally long period of time and they move on. This is the first time that I've felt uneasy on the Camino and it was probably nothing more than lack of communication, but I really didn't like that I was out numbered.

The last 10k of the day is a muddy slog. Walking on farm road with 4-6 inches of squishy mud is quite the workout. As I approach the hilltop town of Castrojeriz and the mud beneath my feet finally transforms to solid pavement, the rain lets up to a fine mist and the sun begins to shine as if on cue. First I pass through the ruins of a massive convent and then I can see the picturesque hill top ruins of a castle sitting high above the town, which gives the whole place a magical medieval feel.

I find my mystery hotel booked by Tim and without even asking how much it is I head straight for the shower. I take the longest, hottest shower I've ever taken and when I come out I can hear the rain pouring again. I lie on the bed in my towel, coat my body in various rash creams, soak my feet & ankles in ibuprofen gel, and take two ibuprofen pills for good measure. Then while lying completely still, I eat everything I can find in my backpack, including a completely squished package of GU Chomps that I have been carrying just incase of any scenario which may lead to starvation, and then two gummy multivitamins plus immunity, again, just for good measure.

As I lay upside down on my bed with my feet elevated and resting on the headboard, (I've found that doing this for 30 minutes helps to reduce the swelling) I notice a window with shutters locked tight. When I summon the energy to move I get up and open the window to find the most perfect view of the castle ruins that I could ever imagine.

That's it then, absolutely no reason to leave this hotel room for the next 12 hours.

Day 16 ~ Ages to Burgos

(Friday, May 17th)

We are so shattered and tired. Somehow, Jenny and I let six French Seniors get the best of us. We were in bed by 9pm but our roommates were up until midnight with the lights on having a good time and then somehow managed to wake at 5am and immediately, turn the lights on. We are absolutely perplexed at how these old people can have the energy that they have until we figure out that they are not only having all of their luggage transported, but they are also walking very short distances each day. For these folks it's similar to a pub crawl, only they crawl from cathedral to cathedral and stay up late drinking copious amounts of wine along the way. Now, I'm all for older people who know how to enjoy life, but come on...can't we just put them all in one room together so the young people can get some sleep!?!?

Jenny and I start the day grumpy and tell each other every joke we know at the expense of the French. Having lived in Cornwall, I have quite the repertoire! And then we decide collectively that if I could have another shot at answering the question posed by the creepy naked Canadian, the answer would definitely be French Senior Citizens. Then we apparently got all the frustration out of our systems and moved on.

Jenny, like so many young people, has a tendency to say, "I hate when this happens, or I hate the way he does that"...etc. This is something that I always got on to my children for & the first time I heard her say it I looked at her seriously and told her that I felt pretty strongly that we shouldn't hate on the Camino. She started laughing but from that point on she told everyone she heard say it, "Bethany says we can't hate on the Camino" So, we decided that while we didn't hate the French people in our room, we certainly didn't approve of their behavior either!

It really doesn't come as a surprise to us, but we start the morning walking in the freezing rain again. We decide straight away that we will walk the 27k directly to Burgos, as fast as possible, with no stops. Once again we are climbing up to 1,100 meters and then straight back down a slippery steep decent, in the freezing rain, and snow, with high winds, through sloggy mud.

We walk from 7:45-10:45 like we are on fire, but upon reaching the edge of the big city the urge to stop in a bar and warm up is too strong to resist. We have a quick coffee and then head out through the industrial part of the town.

Our motivation is the warm, dry, luxurious 4 star hotel waiting on the far side of town beyond the magnificent cathedral. I have to admit that I am filled with trepidation at the thought of stepping back into my life before the Camino. My worry being that I won't have the strength or desire to carry on. Our arrival in Burgos marks the completion of one third of the walk to Santiago. I had pre-planned stays in posh hotels at 3 points, Burgos, Leon, and Santiago as a bit of a reward for myself, but after the last few days I'm not so sure it's a good idea. Jenny, on the other hand, is beside herself with joy & excitement.

When we come into view of the massive 13th Century Gothic Cathedral we both freeze in place. We just stand there in the middle of the road staring. Eventually, we remove our packs and sit on a bench continuing to stare with our mouths wide open. We are frozen, covered in a combination of sweat and mud, after hike/jogging 27k, headed to a 4 star oasis, but all is forgotten and we just sit completely still.

After a bit of time two other pilgrims come along, both from the Netherlands, Zander & Saskia. We take turns doing pictures for each other and trying to put what we see & feel into words. We all agree that it's just impossible. Within a few minutes our long lost Pietra comes up to join us and we are so happy to see that she is well, with no limp like the last time we saw her. The sun comes out brilliantly warm as if on cue and we all sit catching up as if it has been the best day ever.

Pietra walks to the hotel with us and then says she'll be back to get us for dinner at 6:30. As soon a we check in Jenny is ecstatic, checking things out in the room and trying to force feed me the chocolate almonds so carefully placed on each pillow. Before I know it she is stripped down and wearing her hotel robe & slipper ensemble, ready to climb into the giant bath.

I decide to take myself, along with all my feelings of apprehension, and my guidebook full of maps, down to the bar for a cup of coffee and a long hard look at my next 30 days. As I sit there, still covered from head to toe in mud, completely frustrated with the hotel wifi that my phone doesn't want to recognize, I hear my name. Actually, I hear, "Delibery for Ms. Porta" and I turn my head to see this man standing 10 feet away from me with giant red roses. Naturally, I just sit there staring at him because it can't be real. He walks right up to me and leans into my face saying, "Ms. Porta?" (So funny because in Spanish "puerta" means "door", and sounds exactly like my last name....this has caused a few mishaps & laughs!) Anyhow, I snap out of it and say,"yes" and he thrusts the flowers in my face saying, "for you!"

I just sit there for ages & then finally open the card to find the strangest broken English message written with no name. The key words I can pick out are "challenge, journey, support, & love" I am so touched and thankfully, alone in the bar, when tears start streaming down my face.

Day 15 ~ Epinosa to Ages

(Thursday, May 16th)

We wake at 6am with rustling and packing sounds in our room, after yet another night with no sleep. With no heat in the albergue & no extra blankets we literally froze all night. Normally when it's cold we can put on extra layers of clothing but everything we have is still wet.

Colleen starts walking with us but we know we have to move as quickly as possible today to stay warm & to get somewhere early enough to do wash. We chat for a short bit but then have to part ways so we can get to Ages.

The terrain today is again difficult, with three separate altitude gains of 1,200 meters followed by rapid, steep, descents. The distance is 23k with no towns along the way. We set off prepared for the worst possible scenario, which always includes rain, wind, snow, mud, slipping and falling down at least once, and is complemented by the dull pains of hunger, which seem to be ever present now no matter how much we eat. The one luxury we have afforded ourselves today is a secured reservation in a private albergue with laundry facilities, wifi, & any meals we want. All of this under the same warm roof. Pure heaven!

We begin with a steep climb straight up and after 2k the wind starts blowing harder and colder. After an hour we are literally frozen. Our hands unable to move or do the simplest of tasks. My mind starts racing through all of the cold weather survival skills I've ever learned from Mitchell C. Shoemaker & Co. while hiking in the Cascades.

We stop and get everything out of our packs that we can possibly put on, wet or dry. We put multiple pairs of dirty socks on our hands to keep them warm. We get all the food we have and put it in easy to reach places and then we start to move at a pace that's more of a jog than a walk. Within 20 minutes we are feeling better, our bodies generating more heat and our multiple layers holding it in. Once again we notice that there are no pilgrims anywhere in sight. This is always an eerie feeling because there are normally pilgrims walking in front of you and behind in a steady line. We assume the snow forecasts have caused them to take a rest day.

We pass beautiful giant heather bushes covered in purple blooms. Jenny tells me through frozen purple lips that in Germany they are called "Erika" but that she's never seen them that large before. I laugh to myself about how funny it is to be two different female names and make a mental note to tell her later when we are warm. My mind drifts to my next door neighbor in Hawaii whose name is also Erika, and wonder if she knows that her name means "Heather" in Germany. Then I begin to wonder if she's laying on a warm sunny beach at this very moment. It's not long before I'm picturing all my friends in Hawaii on the beach together, lying in the sun and sipping cocktails, and I can't help but think, "What the heck am I doing here?!?"

After a long while without talking, I can tell that Jenny is struggling just as much as I am. I know I have to try something to pull us out of the funk, so I get her to teach me all the Spanish words for my breakfast order. Then I begin signing them to the song, "Fuego, Fuego, the roof is on fire" it goes something like this: "Huevos, jamon, poco patatas, cafe con leche, e zumo por favor!" I sing this for a while and dance around like a fool until she joins me. This does the trick for both of us and before we know it we are standing in a bar in San Juan de Ortega smiling from ear to ear & singing our breakfast orders for real.

It's only a short 4.5k walk to our warm cozy albergue. We arrive and find many pilgrims searching for a place to sleep. It was so good that we booked!

We take hour long hot showers, then put our laundry in to wash and settle to write in our journals. We agree that it almost seems like the horrible day was nothing more than a very bad dream. If it weren't for the fact that our fingers and toes have swollen to the size of plump sausages and our faces bright red and radiating heat, we'd never know that we almost froze to death, while taking a gentle stroll through Spain in May, nonetheless. I really have to admit, if I haven't already, that this is not quite the experience that I had pictured when I decided to do this.

Jane & Charlotte are here and blanket us with hugs and concern when we come face to face with them in the hallway. They knew the albergue in Villabistia had been closed, and that weather through the mountain pass had been awful. They had decided to err on the side of caution and take a bus, but had been very worried for us. Such a sweet Camino family we've managed to acquire!

It's not long before Fabby, Martin, & Benedict, come through the door, but sadly, Marek has gotten a bug and stayed behind in Belorado to recoup. The boys tell me they stayed with him for a day and he was asking for soup and whatnot, driving them crazy. They all felt like he needed his Camino Madre. I'm sending him well wishes every chance I get, but there's no way that I'm going to back track!

Dinner is fairly good, but once again, the company is great. We sit at a table with Jane & Charlotte and really enjoy chatting with them. The table next to us has 6 French women who are loud & boisterous, drinking wine by the gallon & laughing nonstop. At one point, I swear I hear Charlotte say, "It's as if they've never had rice before" and I laugh myself silly...but she claims she never said it. I guess it's just my brain, once again, providing its own comedy relief, or maybe its just from the effects of thawing out.

Day 14 ~ Granon to Epinosa

(Wednesday, May 15)

We wake absolutely miserable from lack of sleep and after tormenting the boys a bit, head down to breakfast, most of which is gone. Jenny and I manage to find two pieces of bread each with some marmalade & I have a quick coffee. We are so tired that it's hard to be happy with much of anything.

The pouring rain and freezing cold temperatures may have also contributed to our foul moods. We decide to walk as quickly as possible without stops to Beldarado. Jenny hangs back to talk with some of the kids, and I scoot along to make the distance as fast as I can. It's so nice to have the time alone. I have been struggling with never having privacy, not even in the toilet. The first two weeks I was okay with all the social interaction, even relishing in it when I felt unsure on my own, but now its changed.

When they say that you're never alone on the Camino, I know the meaning is that you are constantly guided and watched over by God, but I can also add that you can never get 5 minutes of peace either. It almost seems like the more you wish to be left alone with your thoughts, people seek you out. When my kids were young we had a great book titled, "Five Minutes Peace" about a mother elephant trying to get a few minutes away from her three little ones. She tries several things and in the end gets into a bubble bath. Within a few minutes, she has all three of them in the tub with her and toys as well.

I have declared that I just need 5 minutes peace several times and no matter where I manage to run off and hide, someone comes to find me and talk. Jenny finds this to be absolutely hilarious. Late last night, after lights out, while hiding in a dark stairwell, a Canadian man came out of his room wearing basically nothing and decided to cozy right up to me (when there was plenty of room for personal space) and introduce himself. After the whispered introductions, he launches into this full blown thing with the opening (and most profound) question of, "So, who do you think are the biggest $&&holes on the Camino, Americans or Canadians?" While I very much wanted to say that in this very moment I felt very strongly to answer Canadians, what I actually said was that his question was ridiculous and didn't even merit conversation. He looked at me a little stunned and then I quickly explained that I really needed some time alone. Hence hiding in a dark stairwell in the middle of the night. To his credit, he did leave me alone...after 15 minutes of showing me his broken phone and method of emailing his friends and family all of his photos, etc.

So, after a quick stop in Beldarado Jenny & I set off in the freezing rain again and decide to go as far as we can today since the forecast for the next few days is even worse. When we arrive in Tosantos, it's still very early in the day and the weather actually seems to be clearing a bit. We stop briefly to speak with the person who runs the single albergue and are told that 14 mattresses on the floor are available. After our complete lack of sleep the night before, we decide to press on to Villabistia, where we know that our English Ladies, Charlotte & Jane, have a booking. When we arrive, there is a sign on the door stating that they are very sorry but closed on Wednesdays. We stand there absolutely stunned. We are exhausted now & soaked through with the once again pouring rain, and it might be our imagination but it feels as if the temperature has dropped 20 degrees in the past hour. Our options are to go back 3k to Tosantos and pray that there are beds left, or to press on another 3k to Epinosa. We decide that forward progress is better and set off ahead. Within 5 minutes giant snow flakes begin to fall and the farm road we are on turns to slog beneath our feet. There is no talking between us, we are both a bit scared and really upset. It's also not comforting that we haven't seen any other pilgrims for miles. After a while Jenny and I start talking again, after I share with her that I never expected that I'd perish during a freak May snow storm in Spain. We decided that it would be a pretty good headline though.

Eventually, and when we literally could go no further, we come upon an albergue. It's literally El Ramon, from the movie The Way (for those of you who have seen it). It's creepy and filthy and run by a 40ish guy that could literally be the son of El Ramon. There's no sign of a woman anywhere. We have learned at this point to be leery of the places with no women around to ensure cleanliness, order, & proper hospitality.

The place offers a horrible bed & a filthy shower for 5 euro. We take it because we know we can walk no further. There are no laundry facilities and hand washing is not an option because things will never dry by morning. Everything we own is dirty & most is wet. This will be the first day that I have to shower & then put on filthy smelly clothes. I keep reminding myself that it could be much worse.

We clean up & head to the one bar in town to get warm (the albergue has no heat & no hot water) & find food. The couple who own the bar make us chorizo & queso tortilla (frittata) with coffee, juice & hot coa coa. We sit there for two hours until dinner time, when our special pilgrims meal is served. We are joined by Colleen from Tennessee, who is a very chatty & interesting person. She has had every job known to man, quite literally. Jenny and I decide right away that we will need more time for discussion with her.

Day 17 ~ Burgos to Rabe

(Saturday, May 18th)

I wake naturally at 8am to a completely silent, beautiful hotel room. My body is happy to be fully rested, my feet feel wonderful. I take a few minutes to enjoy the terrace outside of our room and check the weather, while Jenny lounges and thinks about what she's going to do.

I have decided to have a quick breakfast and then press on. In an "only in Spain" manner, we learn that we don't have to check out of the hotel until 6pm. This will give Jenny plenty of time to swim, rest, or just to enjoy the luxurious privacy. She has decided to stay on in Burgos for an extra day or two.

We have a quick coffee & Neapolitana treat for breakfast & I get a tuna with tomato sandwich to go. As we sit there, Daniel from Sweden comes in with two beautiful Canadian young men. I can tell that Jenny is thrilled. I say my goodbyes, ask Daniel to keep an eye on my Camino Ninjo and then set off alone.

I am a bit sad, but energized from my great night of sleep & from the freedom of striking off alone. Its also nice to know that Jenny is in good hands. I have a much tighter schedule and often I have felt like I'm causing her to rush when she would much rather linger. I will miss her company dearly, but it is time for us to go our own Way.

As I'm leaving Burgos I see an odd little pink church and walk over to peek inside. The sunlight is filtering in the tiny windows in such a beautiful way that it appears as if there are custom lights on everything inside.

The next thing I notice is a giant facility with watch towers & barbed wire all around and guards patrolling behind the fence. I'm assuming that it's a prison or a sanatorium, but the really odd thing is that it's painted in the brightest colors you've ever seen. This gives it a carnival or circus look. I immediately have the circus music (Is there an actual name for that song?) playing in my head and I begin to laugh out loud at the obvious sense of humor that someone in charge has.

Next, I come upon a man in a field with a large black dog & two storks (Yes, they are real birds...Was I the only one who thought it was just some crazy fabrication to explain where babies come from? I am really hoping that I wasn't alone in this...feeling pretty dense about it). I watched for some time as the storks would take flight and make a low loop of about 200 yards and then land and walk along side this man & the dog. I really thought I must be seeing things but a couple of times the dog gave the birds a sort of loving nudge with his nose and then they would take off, fly another loop & land again. The birds are massive & their heads stand much taller than the dog which appears to be a large black Labrador. It was so much fun to watch. I was hoping they would come closer so I could ask questions, but sadly am left to assume that he has rescued the birds and has now taken them as pets.

As I carried on and approached the village of Tarjados I could hear the bells of the cathedral ringing continuously. Since it was Saturday, I assumed it was a wedding. I cinch down all the straps of my pack and start running. As soon as I step foot in the square, I come face to face with every single person in the village, led by two men with giant flags. I grab my camera and make a video of the procession as it passes me. Once again, an unbelievable moment. I was the only pilgrim anywhere near and I was lucky enough to be just in time. (I will post the video on my fb page ~ Bethany Eells Porter~ because I can't post it on the blog) After they all pass by, I sit down on a nearby bench to take my pack off for a few minutes & rest. Within minutes, three beautiful girls from the procession come over to sit with me & talk. Only one speaks English and she translates everything back and forth between us. She tells me that today is a celebration for the birthday of their village. They ask where I'm from, if I have children & why I'm walking the Camino alone. I tell them that I live in Hawaii, show them pictures of my children and that moments like this are why I'm walking the Camino alone. I ask if I can take a photo of them in their beautiful dresses & they all smile such pretty smiles. I am sad to leave them but need to get another 3k down the road to my albergue.

Thoughts of distance come to mind as I walk along. This is now how I think if everything now. 5k is the distance that I can manage to tolerate or procrastinate (just depends on how you look at it) most anything that comes up. I think procrastination must be deeply embedded in our genetic code because no matter where we are or what were doing, we can always find a way to put something off. Or maybe it's just me? If I am walking along and I need to pee, deal with a wedgie, have a rock in my shoe, have an itch, need to tie my shoe tighter, need to find additional clothing, or if am starving or thirsty, it can always wait another 5k. It's the distance that isn't even considered a distance any longer and I'm not alone in this. It will be interesting to see if in two weeks time I am procrastinating 10k at a time.

When I arrive at my albergue I am greeted by a beautiful Spanish woman who takes 18.50 euros in exchange for a bed, dinner, laundry, and breakfast. It begins to pour the second I step inside and I know I have been blessed today, and now all my needs are sorted for the next 14 hours.

Moments after I arrive, a Spanish pilgrim comes to the door on horseback. He is the first I've seen on the Camino.

My room is shared with a loud, and very amped up American woman from California who has just begun her walk & is filled with the anxiety that I am very familiar with. I will be interested to meet with her again in two weeks time, to see how the Camino settles her. It's so astounding how the back to the basics routine of eating breakfast, walking, showering, doing laundry, eating dinner, and then sleeping, day after day after day, settles your rough edges.

We also have the French couple who I met in the cathedral in Burgos. They come each year for two weeks and complete a section but this year they forgot their Camino passports at home. They were getting new ones when I saw them but were very sad because they will not have one completely full of all the sellos now. For most people this becomes a keepsake that is forever treasured because it tells the story of each place you went on your Way and helps you to recall memories. They are quiet and contemplative as they lie in their beds writing in their journals and whisper to each other periodically to be considerate. Meanwhile, our American roommate is on her cell phone speaking in full voice with her husband for 30 minutes about trash day & dogs that may or may not need grooming while she's away. I am embarrassed and keep mouthing apologies to our quiet French roommates on her behalf.

We are all placed together at dinner and it goes much the same way. My fellow American dominates the conversation in such a loud manner that the other tables give up attempting to speak as well. I can't help but to think that this was me the first few nights, so full of anxiety about what was ahead that I felt as if I might explode. I've calmed so much now and have settled into the rhythm of the days on the Camino. All the minute details are no longer important. Breakfast, walking, shower, laundry, dinner, and sleep. These are the only worries, the mind is left to pray, meditate, contemplate and reflect. I think it must be somewhat similar to spending a bit of time in a convent or monastery, where you live a basic life and remove your mind from the daily pollution that life can throw your way. After a certain amount of time on the Camino your whole presence changes. It's always easy to tell the newbies so full of energy & anxiety, rubbing up against the world in such an abrasive manner. She will settle in time and soften, we all do.

Day 13 ~ Azofra to Granon

(Tuesday, May 14th)

We woke early, ate our quick breakfast, a and started up our 3 mile hill. We are told that its not significantly steep, but rather a very long slow climb. Our goal is to get to Ciruena at the top, as quickly as possible, and then stop for a nice break & treat. The plan worked very well and before we knew it, we were sitting in the same bar with Charlotte & Jane, our ladies from Sheffield, having a nice coffee.

We carried on to Santa Domingo and while passing through, we ran into our long lost friend Lynette who shared that she is having knee problems and will have to rest and take the bus for a few days until her body heals. We say goodbyes, this time knowing we probably won't see her again and we walk away sad. I use this as an excuse to stop for another coffee & Nepolitana treat. While we discuss the fate of so many of our fellow pilgrims who have now had to stop altogether & return home, or make adjustments to using transport because of the demands of the constant walking.

Even though we certainly still have our own doubts about being able to finish the walk at this point, we agree that we must not let the fate of others & their choices detour us from accomplishing what we've set out to do. This is easy for me to say to Jenny when she feels low and unsure, but my mind is still telling me that this is so silly because there is perfectly good transport and many 4 & 5 star hotels along the way.

As we head out of town, we bump into Fabby & Marek. We all walk together for a bit, me in the lead while the kids hang back & chat. When we get near the town of Granon, Fabby runs up the hill passing me with ease. Jenny & I try to summon the energy to chase him down & pass him but his legs are too long for us to compete with. Still, it makes me laugh to have such fun at the end of a hard day. The looks we got from the other dead tired pilgrims were priceless!

We head into the first albergue we see, but it scares me, so I head over to the parish albergue. This one, run by the German confraternity, was recommend by a man I met who had completed the Camino with his father some years ago. There is mass, a communal meal, and a pilgrim prayer to follow. This makes me very happy. The thin sleeping mats placed so closely together on the floor that they touch each other, make me not so happy. The one toilet, shower, & sink for 55 of us to share makes me even less happy. The only saving grace is that we are in such good company placed between Jane & Charlotte and Fabby & Marek. Once again a slumber party!

As soon as we get settled, Marek goes over to the completely out of tune ancient piano and begins to play. It sounds lovely and I am instantly missing Login so much. One of my favorite things is being in the house cooking, or just doing anything while I can hear her play. I long for her to be here so she could experience this too. I make a video of Marek playing & take several photos, and even though he's quite shy, I think he's getting used to me doting on him with all the others.

After a while everyone gathers outside in the courtyard to take in the sunshine & write in journals. Fabby hangs his hammock up and the kids all congregate. Within a few moments they begin doing yoga on the lawn. This makes me think of my good friend Linda, she too would love this experience.

At the end of the mass, the pilgrims are called to the front of the church for a special blessing. I can feel the love surrounding us as the congregation & Priest pray. We are immediately back over to the albergue for dinner because we are all ravenous. As we sit down to eat, I am aware of being the only American yet again, not such a problem as much as an observation. Most of the Americans that I've met on the Camino like to stay in the nicer private albergues. Not long after this thought, I overhear that each country must sing a song after the meal. Perfect, it can't get any better. Everyone sings their national anthem or some other song directly tied to their country. There's no way I'm going to try to sing the national anthem, so I rack my brain for an alternative. The only thing that comes to mind is a song I had to memorize for a 4th grade play, "You're a Grand Old Flag" I almost got away without having to sing but my Camino Ninjas were good enough to sell me out. It was awful. Truly horrifying and not even in a funny, good, kind of way. I am certain that I let each and everyone of my fellow Americans down. As a bonus, Jenny made a video of it and plays it periodically when I get out of hand.

After the humiliating entertainment, we all do dishes together and go to bed. I'm not certain if it was the incessant dog barking, the church bell ringing to mark the time (yes, even through the night) the ridiculous snoring, or the burping and farting, but something kept me from sleeping very well.

Day 12 ~ Ventosa to Azofra

(Monday, May 13th)

We wake late & get a pretty slow start. After finding breakfast at a bar, we strike off. I am feeling like walking alone a bit again today so I let Jenny take a long lead. Little Basque toe is so swollen that it barely fits into my shoe, but I decide to start in my trail shoes anyhow.

As I walk through Najera, some beautiful snow capped mountains come into view. As picturesque as they are, all I can think about is how much I don't want to walk over them. We have planned to stop at the supermacado here for supplies and soon I see Jenny stopped waiting for me. We sort that quickly & decide to stop for a quick coffee. Charlotte & Jane are at the same spot having a break so we chat a while and I remove my shoes & change into socks & sandals...yes, you read that correctly. Little Basque toe has decided to behave very badly and I can barely walk today because of the pressure inside of my shoe. As soon a I make the change he is happy, but so swollen that he sticks out of the side of my sandal like a growth of some sort. Jenny is amused by my new fashion statement & takes it upon herself to declare me "more German" than she is today. Oddly enough, it turns out that several German people attempt to speak to me throughout the day. While my toe is much happier, I do look ridiculous and my heels and arches ache from the lack of support under the weight of my pack.

My walk is so painful today that I struggle to have thoughts about anything else. We climb Alto del Najera and pass through beautiful farmland planted with grapes or filled with grazing sheep.

I stop to talk with a farmer planting what looks to be short 6" sticks into a freshly tilled field and he tells me, "For the wine"
Amazing, they are literally just cuts from a grape vine that he sticks into the ground every six paces. It can't be that easy, but maybe the soil here in Rioja is just magic.

Next, I come upon the sweetest little man & woman walking arm in arm. They must be around 80 and are walking the Camino each day but shipping their heavy packs. They wear tiny little ones that they have decorated & it makes me smile. I have seen them several times in the past few days, but today I couldn't resist taking a photo. I think it's safe to say that they have shared a lifetime of love.

As we enter Azofra, I know I must stop. Jenny isn't sure what she is going to do, she feels good today & I urge her to carry on. I check into the Municipal albergue, and am told that there are only two beds per room, laundry facilities, and a foot fountain/wading pool in the courtyard...all for 7euros! We peek into the sunny courtyard & see every face we know. Jenny decides to stay. All of my Camino Ninjas are here as well. The only drawback is no wifi. I really want to talk with my Login so this is a bummer.

We had briefly met an American man as we left breakfast this morning, who said he was from Louisiana but spoke German. When he spoke English, he had a bizzare accent that wasn't German and just a weird countenance all around. He made Jenny feel really uncomfortable in the few short minutes they chatted, which was strange because she tends to give everyone a good first chance. As we walked away, she decided his Camino name would be "Shifty Eyed Jack" which I have to admit, suits him very well. Since he was also here, we assumed we would get more of his story, whether we wanted to or not. I knew it was only a matter of time before he attempted another conversation with Jenny.

We take our showers, start our laundry, & go out to stick our feet in the pool & sit in the sun. It's not 2 minutes before Jack seeks Jenny out to chat. I enjoy watching the interaction between them because it's obvious that he is trying as hard as he can to get her story, and she's not giving it easily.

After a bit I rescue her by reminding that we need to pop up to the store. The shop owner is so nice that we buy much more than we should, but all the pilgrims have spread the word that she is the one to go to in town. Word travels fast in our little traveling community. She treats us all to complimentary cookies and sweets while we wait patiently to enter her 6x4 foot customer area.

While in line we are told that the municipal is now full & the small community has begun to put pilgrims in the school on the floor to keep them out of the cold temperatures expected tonight. As we leave, we notice people bustling about the tiny village with pads & blankets in hand. Apparently an all call has gone out to help and every resident is responding.

A short while later we run into Daniel from Sweden. He tells us that he & Yan are staying at the school & that it's crowded with no bathing facilities, but they are very happy to be sleeping indoors.

On the way we see a sign for botanical gardens, so we decide to check it out. After walking two miles in our flip flops we arrive at a closed gate. We take a few quick photos of the pretty plants behind the gate & then walk back. We had already walked 12 miles today and then added 4 miles to that for pure pleasure. On the way back we discuss how good it is to get out & walk for exercise in the afternoons. Maybe something we should consider doing more often...and then we laugh ourselves silly.