We got up early and had breakfast at the alburgue. We hit the trail through Burgos at 7:15 AM.

This is a sunrise shot looking back at Burgos.

This is a shot from the trail as we cross a babbling brook.

On the Meseta they have not yet put up all their hay. This field has been cut but is still drying.

This is a roadside cross as we entered our first village of the day, Villalbilla. We stopped and said a prayer for Anna.

Second breakfast at Casa de Beli in Tardajos, about 10 kilometers from Burgos. I had a chocolate croissant and a Gatorade. I have become addicted to chocolate croissants.

This is the church in Tardajos. Notice the stork nest at the top of the steeple.

Another shot of the church at Tardajos.

On the trail outside Tardajos.

A woman died here while walking the Camino. This is a tribute to her and her pilgrimage.

Notice all the rocks in the field. In some of the fields on the Meseta there are more rocks than dirt. I don’t know how they grow anything in this rocky soil. And this is the breadbasket of Spain!

A view of the trail as we climb up out of Tardajos to Hornillos del Camino.

The following four pictures are shots from the trail as we travel through the Meseta on our Way to Hornillos del Camino.

This is a picture of a priest that is walking the Camino. He helps the local parish priest with the pilgrim mass in the villages where he spends the night.

This is an Irish guy who plays his guitar and sings at a pub in Hornillos del Camino. He is out on the trail drumming up business

This is a monument in Hornillos del Camino. Notice the chicken on top of the monument. We stopped and said a prayer for Anna.

This is a view from the trail.

This is the view from the trail as we walk down to Hontanas, our end of the trail for today.

This is the alburgue where I am staying tonight, after a 30 kilometer hike from Burgos. It is six euros. What a deal. The only thing that was available was an upper bunk. A young man from Washington DC insisted that I take his lower bunk and he would take my upper bunk. I took him up on his offer and after I showered and washed my clothes I bought a round for this guy and his traveling companions. What he did was so kind that it brought tears to my eyes.

This is the church across the street from the alburgue in Hontanas.

This is the pilgrim dinner at the alburgue. I had paella, a great lamb stew and cheese cake. At the table we had Canadians, Australians and me as the lone American.

I hope everyone is having a great Tuesday.

Goodnight from Hontanas, Spain.

Rest Day

I left the municipal alburgue by 8:00 AM and found a cafe on the Cathedral Square to have a fresh squeezed orange juice and a plain tortilla. After that St. Christoper wanted to go to the 9:00 AM mass at the Cathedral. Good call by St. Christopher. What a magnificent chapel and this is only one of about 10 chapels in the Burgos Cathedral.

After Mass we all agreed that we would spend the morning touring this awe inspiring Cathedral and its numerous chapels. I stowed my backpack in a locker, bought a pilgrim ticket and got a headset that allowed me to take a narrated three hour tour of the Cathedral, in English!

Notice the beautiful painted altar in this side chapel off the main church in the Cathedral.

This altar in the next side chapel is gilded in gold.

I have no idea what this is but I think it is a solid silver chariot.

This is the five story altarpiece in the main Cathedral Church. This picture doesn’t even come close to capturing the breathtaking magnificent of the ornamentation of this altarpiece.

St. Christopher insisted on lighting a candle for Anna and of course Abe did not want to be left out of the action and neither did I. That is three candles for Anna in the Burgos Cathedral and three fervent prayers for her full recovery.

After we finished our tour of the Cathedral we checked into the more upscale Burgos Hostal. Four bunk beds per room and sheets, blankets and a complimentary breakfast in the morning. And best of all it has a washer and a dryer. I stripped naked, put on my rain jacket and rain pants and washed everything I have been wearing for the past 12 days. My underwear went in white and came out grey, but other than that I would call this a successful laundry day and a very relaxing rest day.

Tomorrow it is on from Burgos and out onto the Meseta for a 22 kilometer hike to our final destination for the day, Hornillos del Camino.

Correction

A few days ago I said that I had a touch of agoraphobia, which I thought, based on my two years of high school Latin, was a fear of heights. My mother, St. Rita, is fluent in Latin and caught my mistake. According to St. Rita, and she is always right, agoraphobia is a fear of leaving your house. It should be patently obvious to anyone following this blog that I am not afraid of leaving my house. Acrophobia is a fear of heights. The rest of you will need to brush up on your Latin and read the blog with much more attention to detail if you want to keep up with my mother, St. Rita.

This is St. Rita in her younger years. She was beautiful then and she is just as beautiful now

I hope everyone has a great Monday.

Good evening from Burgos, Spain.

Last night at the alburgue

Note – This blog post is a day late. The alburgue where I originally planed on staying in Burgos was having problems with their WIFI and the municipal alburgue where I wound up spending the night did not have WIFI. The trials and tribulations of a blogging pilgrim in this digital age.

The alburgue we stayed at Saturday night was very medieval, and that is the best thing I can say about it. We had a pilgrim dinner at 6:30 PM that was almost inedible. We got a tremendous amount of food for $10 but it was really bad. The first course was pasta that was over cooked to a gelatinous glob of goo. It was the consistency of wallpaper paste and tasted like warm snot. The cooks poured a dollop of marinara sauce over this so called pasta and called it a first course. The second course was called a mixed salad. Mixed with what I don’t know. It was iceberg lettuce with a splash of olive oil. I can’t get them to understand that there are a number of different varieties of lettuce that they could use in a mixed salad besides iceberg lettuce. And the salad dressing! I thought ranch dressing was the international gold standard for excellence in salad dressing. Every time I ask for ranch dressing they recoil in horror. It is the same reaction I get when I ask them to lay off the ham and cheese in the sandwiches and put something different between those two slices of bread. Next time I visit Spain I will bring my own squeeze bottle of ranch dressing.

The main course was french fries, they call them chips, and mystery meat. The whole chips thing is strange because we call potato chips, chips, and they call potato chips, crisps. I ate the mystery meat, and to be polite, complimented the cook on his dry, tough and tasteless chicken. The cook got offended and told me it was pork. If you have been following this blog you know that my response was: “Not Pork Again!!” This pork, if that is what it was, was like eating shoe leather. It would have been at least semi palatable if the cook had smothered it with gravy or ranch dressing. But this is a country that has never discovered gravy and seems to have decided that ranch dressing is off the plate for pilgrims. The dessert was a cup of yogurt. After choking down the first three courses just to get enough calories in my system to fuel the next day’s walk, the yogurt was a pleasant and surprisingly delicious dessert.

Correction

I need to make a correction here. My very good friend Don Kane has informed me that in Spanish, jabon means soap and jamon means ham. I have been in Spain for almost two weeks ordering jabon and queso sandwiches 🥪, instead of jamon and queso sandwiches, and complaining bitterly about how much I have grown tired of them. It turns out that instead of ordering a ham and cheese sandwich, I have been ordering soap and cheese sandwiches. I always wondered why the waitress would chuckle when I ordered what I thought was a ham and cheese sandwich and would really guffaw when she brought me the jabon, soap, and cheese sandwich that I had actually ordered in my less than perfect Spanish. Lesson learned. Watch what you order in a foreign country. Getting snails 🐌, or escargot, might be the least of your problems. You might wind up with a soap and cheese sandwich.

I thought dinner was so bad that I had hit rock bottom for the night. Boy was I wrong. After dinner I went up to the dormitory room with 39 other people arrayed in 20 bunk beds, like chickens in a coop. I already told you that this alburgue was medieval and has been serving as a Pilgrim way station for centuries. Well, the lower bunk bed that was assigned to me had obviously been around for centuries. First of all, it was designed for a hobbit or a munchkin. It could not have been more than five feet long and I am about 6 feet tall. My feet were sticking out way over the end of this bed. Second, the springs in the mattress were so shot that you had only one place to sleep and that was the deep trough in the middle of the mattress, caused by the fat backsides of tens of thousands of overweight pilgrims. They try to put the bulky pilgrims in the lower bunks because they have a very hard time hoisting themselves into the upper bunks. My third complaint was the cold. The people that run this alburgue don’t believe in coddling pilgrims. The windows were jacked open and the heat was turned off. They ran out of blankets before they got to me and I had to put on every, and I mean every, stitch of clothes in my backpack to keep from freezing. I have never been so glad to see the first light of day and put that medieval, monastic hellhole of an alburgue in my rear view mirror.

This is our breakfast stop in Ages. As you can see we have come a long way but we have a long way to go. I learned a valuable lesson at this breakfast stop. An empanada is like a Hot Pocket and is usually very good in the morning when it is stuffed with scrambled eggs, potatoes and cheese. When it is stuffed with tuna salad it makes for a rather unsettling breakfast. My mother, St. Rita, always told us kids, when we asked her what was for dinner, that there were two choices on the dinner menu, take it or leave it. I took my tuna empanada, ate it, and was grateful to be eating this unusual breakfast on the Camino.

This is a view of the next town that we encountered on our hike, Atapuerca.

This is the cross at Cruz de Matagrande. We stopped here and said a prayer for Anna.

Just beyond Cruz de Matagrande Abe spotted this rather extensive labyrinth. Don’t even think about asking if I walked this labyrinth!

This is the view from the top of a ridge looking down towards Burgos in the distance.

We stopped for lunch in Cardenuela Riopico. I almost got a tortilla with blood pudding on the top. It is a locale delicacy. At the last moment I lost my nerve and ordered a plain tortilla. A tuna empanada for breakfast was enough culinary excitement for one day.

This is the cafe where we had lunch.

This is the riverside park that serves as an alternate route into Burgos. We had to walk 5 kilometers in the blazing sunshine, around the Burgos airport, to get to this beautiful tree shaded park and riverside path. It was a long day, about 27 kilometers and we were beat when we got to the municipal alburgue. This was a new, clean and modern alburgue and it was only $5. What a deal. There were 300 pilgrims staying in 6 big rooms on 6 floors of this high rise alburgue. The mattresses were covered in rubber as was the pillow and you did not get bed linens. I was more than comfortable in my sleep sack and got a restful night’s sleep until they turned on the bright lights at 6:30 AM and started an every 15 minute cycle of announcements over the loudspeaker, in a variety of different languages, that we had to be out of the alburgue by 8:00 AM or face summary execution.

I hope everyone had a restful Sunday.

Good evening from Burgos, Spain.

Happy Birthday Dana.

This is Dana. She was born 28 years ago today. Dana was just about due but Sara, her older sister, and I thought that we could go out and get the oil changed on the van and get lunch at McDonalds. When we got home Dana was making it very plain that she was ready to make a dramatic entrance. We just barely had time to drop Sara off at Jim and Susie’s house. Jim and Susie are Sara and Dana’s uncle and aunt.

We then raced to the hospital and the minute we got through the admissions process Jane gave birth to a bouncing baby girl, Dana Marinus Hansen. Marinus was my Danish grandfather’s first name and it is my father’s middle name. After Dana was born I called my parents and told them Dana Marinus Hansen had arrived. My father’s response was: “Where in the world did you get that middle name?” I had to remind him that Marinus was his father’s first name and it is his middle name. After I walked him through the concept of a generational family name I think he finally warmed to the idea that Jane and I wanted to give Dana a middle name that honored her grandfather and great grandfather.

Dana had a thick black head of hair. I was the first one to give her a bath and wash her hair. She had such thick hair that I had to wash it twice to get it clean.

Dana teaches math and physics at a high school in the Denver area. Her students love her. Everyone who meets Dana loves her because she is such an honest, caring and generous person. I have loved Dana from the day she was born and I will love her until the day I die.

Happy birthday Dana! 🎂

Last night at the Alburgue

Last night at the alburgue I was assigned to a room with a nice modern clean bathroom and two bunk beds pushed together. I have no idea why the alburgues insist on pushing the bunk beds together. The worst part is that when I checked in the only beds that were available were upper bunks. I needed four people to hoist my fat carcass from the floor to the upper bunk bed. Once I got up there I realized that on one side was the edge of the bed and then a five foot fall to the ground. And I have a touch of agoraphobia. For those of you who don’t speak Latin, that means I am afraid of heights. On the other side was a middle aged man from Germany who told me his name was Willi. It was soon lights out and I got in my sleep sack and turned my back to Willi and faced the precipice at the edge of my aiere. After about an hour of fitful sleep, interrupted by nightmares of falling and never hitting the ground, I was rudely awakened by a whack in the head from Willi. He had flopped from his right side to his left side and with his arms akimbo whacked me with his right arm. I woke him up and explained to him the whole history of me getting whacked for two years by Sister Jean when I was in fourth grade. To clarify, I did not have to repeat fourth grade. It was kind of like a gap year and my parents and the principal of St. Joseph’s grade school, Sister Mary Celeste of the Perpetual Sorrows, decided that the most productive way for me to spend my gap year was to be the baseball to Sister Jean’s fungo bat. I learned a number of valuable lessons in my second fourth grade gap year, like how to duck and cover.

After I explained all this to Willi he promised to stay on his bunk bed and not invade the DMZ between our adjoining top berths. Unfortunately, Willi was not a man of his word. Every hour or so Willi the Windshield Wiper had to flop from his right side to his left side and his right arm would move like a windshield wiper from his right side to his left side and whack me on the head with his right hand. I finally gave up and covered my head with an extra pillow to avoid any further brain damage. Between Willi the Windshield Wiper and Vlad the Inhaler it has been a sleepless Camino.

This morning

We got up early this morning and were on the trail by 6:45 AM. It was dark so I had to attach myself to a group of Italians who not only knew where they were going but they also had headlamps. Dawn broke at 7:30 and the sun came up over the horizon at 8:00. After a 5 kilometer walk we approached our first village of the day, Tosantos. We were looking forward to having breakfast there but the cafe was closed. Bummer!

We had to walk another two kilometers before we got to an open cafe on the outskirts of Villambista.

After breakfast we walked the 1.5 kilometers to Espinosa del Camino. These are some pictures I snapped along the way.

After we passed through Espinosa del Camino it was on to Villafranca Montes De Oca.

This is a donativo new age hippy dippy refreshment stand on the Camino. Spanish jazz on the boom box, an over enthusiastic proprietress, and warm Coke if you are thirsty.

This is the path to our next stop, San Juan de Ortega, where we will stop for the day.

This is our final destination, San Juan de Ortega. We are staying at a medieval monastery that has been a pilgrim hostel for centuries. I am staying in a big room with 20 single bunk beds, no matrimonials, and I have a lower berth! I was thrilled beyond words at my good fortune.

I hope everyone is having a great Saturday.

Good night from San Juan de Ortega, Spain.

Today we walk from Santo Domingo de Calzada to Belorado, a 22.4 kilometer hike. We were up early and had breakfast in Santo Domingo and walked out of town at about 7:15 AM, in the dark. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see the Camino directional signs and started to follow a group of Italians who seemed to know what they were doing. Turns out they didn’t have a clue about what they were doing or where they were going. We followed them on a circuitous route out of town until we realized they were lost. And if they were lost, we were lost. When the sun finally came up over the horizon we could see the Camino off in the distance to our left, across a busy road. We bushwhacked across a hay field and crossed the road and we were back on the Camino. We added about 3 kilometers and an extra 45 minutes to the day’s walk, but that’s what happens when you follow a bunch of Italian pilgrims who are directionally challenged.

This message was at the foot of an iron cross about 4 kilometers from Santo Domingo. This bible verse is intended to remind all pilgrims why that are making this pilgrimage. We stopped and said a prayer for Anna.

This is the view as we approached our first stop of the day, Granon. We had a second breakfast in Granon. I had a grande fresh squeezed orange juice and a chocolate croissant.

As I was walking out of Granon I inhaled a smell that took me back to the days of my youth in Illinois. I heard a squeal and knew exactly what was in that building. You guessed it! It was a jabon farm. That is ham, for those of you who don’t speak Spanish. Mystery solved as far as how they can serve so many ham and cheese sandwiches without any pigs. There is a web site, http://www.ham and cheese sandwiches on the Camino.com. They have a counter like McDonalds. Instead of bragging about the billions of hamburgers McDonalds has sold, this website brags about the billions of ham and cheese sandwiches they have forced pilgrims to choke down on the road to Santiago.

This is the view of the trail leading out of Granon and on to our next stop, Redecilla del Camino, a 4 kilometer hike from Granon.

This is a marker that is located on the Camino about 2 kilometers outside Granon. It marks the border between the provinces of La Rioja and Castilla y Leon. We will now be traveling in Castilla y Leon for some time.

As we were walking through Redecilla del Camino I took this picture. The flowers in Spain are amazing. It is like every village has a garden club and they fiercely compete over who can have the most colorful flower pots at their front doors and adorning their balconies.

This is a sign at the next stop along the Way, Viloria de la Rioja. The three amigos have come a long way, but we have a long way to go.

This is Javier and his ladder. Javier is my new BFF in Villamayor del Rio. As I was walking through this village I spied Xavier’s wife Maria spreading a tarp across the Camino under what looked like a chestnut tree. As I got closer I looked up into the chestnut tree and realized that Javier had used a ladder to climb up into the tree and then he climbed up even higher into the tree and was using a 20 foot pole to whack chestnuts out of the tree and onto Marie’s tarp. I went up to the base of the tree and yelled at Javier to get down out of the tree so I could have a WTF conversation with Javier and Marie. When I got Javier out of the tree the three of us had a little habla espanol. Again, if you don’t speak Spanish that means we had a chit chat in Spanish. It appears that Marie wanted some chestnuts to bake some sort of cookies. I told Javier and Marie that it is unbelievably dangerous to have Javier up in that tree whacking at the nuts. I asked them if they had a market in town. They nodded in the affirmative. I had Javier put away his ladder and I walked them down to the local supermarket. I bought them ten dollars worth of nuts and gave them an extra five dollars for a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches. They were thrilled and now I have two new BFFs in Villamayor del Rio. It’s amazing what you can accomplish with just a little bit of Yankee ingenuity and plain old fashioned horse sense.

On the outskirts of our final destination for the day, Belorado. Another pig farm.

A sunflower 🌻 along the Camino.

Art work on the window at the Alburgue Cuarto Cantones in Belorado where I am spending the night.

This is the sign at the check in desk at the alburgue. I love the line where it says never give up. That was Winston Churchill’s guiding principle.

I checked in at about 3:30, took a shower, did my wash and worked on this blog post. There is a pilgrim group dinner at the alburgue that will be starting at 7:30.

This is the crowd at the pilgrim dinner at the alburgue. I am sitting at a table with Tom from Ireland, Suke from England, and Richard from Canada.

I hope everyone is having a good day.

Goodnight from Belorado, Spain.

Last night in Najera was an experience. We stayed in the Municipal alburgue. This is a donation alburgue that has 45 bunk beds in one big, but not big enough room. That is ninety beds! Yikes! Good thing it was only two thirds full. The way they set this up is as follows. The sleeping room is a long rectangle with the door at the top end of the rectangle. On both long sides of the rectangle there are bunk bed sets where two bunk beds are pushed together. They call this a “matrimonial” alburgue. It is like sleeping in a double bed with a total stranger. In the middle of the rectangle there are these same bunk bed sets. By the door there are single bunk beds that they like to keep open in case an emergency situation arises and someone comes straggling in late at night.

I got there at about 3:00 PM, washed up, did laundry and started to write this blog post. I then went out to dinner and got back to the alburgue at about 9:30. They close the door to the sleeping room at 10:00 and everyone is required to be in bed at that time. When I went to my lower berth I found out that the guy next to me was a hulking Croatian, with a huge beard and a noticeable aversion to soap and water. This is the guy I am going to be sharing a double bed with tonight!! Time to think fast because it is going to be lights out shortly.

I noticed that the emergency bunk beds were empty and got a flash of inspiration. I ran out to the common area and told the head alburgue host that I had a private matter that I wished to discuss with him. We went outside and I put my arm around his shoulder and I tearfully confessed that I am a bed wetter. I told him that I have been afflicted with this malady since I was a young boy. It started when I was in the fourth grade and suffered physical and mental abuse at the hands of Sister Jean. Sobbing, I described her flashing yardstick and her repeated whacks to my head and knuckles. I told him that I would be completely humiliated if I wet the bed with the Croatian hulk in it. I then got down on my knees and, sobbing, begged him to reassign me to one of the emergency single bunk beds. He pulled me up to my feet, gave me a hug and assured me that he would reassign to one of the emergency single bunk beds and it would be mine and mine alone. I tearfully thanked him and told him that I would be forever in his debt. He helped me make up my solitary bunk bed with plastic disposable sheets and bade me good night. I slept like a baby and woke at 6:00 AM and was out the door by 7:00. I plan to go to confession when I get to Santiago and I have added this little white lie to the lengthily list of things I need to confess.

We encountered this structure on the side of the Camino this morning. I think it is some sort of watch tower.

This is the view from the trail as we approach Azofra, the first village on the trail from Najera.

This is me checking out a new Ping driver in the clubhouse at the very nice golf resort at our next stop, Ciruena. It looks like they built a beautiful golf course and a bunch of condos and then it went bust. Half the condos have for sale signs on the front gate and the other half look like they have been abandoned. Not exactly a Sergio Garcia backed golf development.

This a view of the trail from Ciruena to Santo Domingo de la Calzada, a six kilometer hike. The total hike today is about 22 kilometers. That is a very doable distance. When we walk the stages that are 28 to 30 kilometers I really feel it and can barely walk when I get to the alburgue. I felt pretty good at the end of the walk today.

This is my room for tonight It is in a convent run by Cistercian nuns. This place is ancient and has a lot of medieval character. I had dinner last night with Richard from Canada and Suki from the UK. I walked with them today and we are sharing this room tonight.

For dinner tonight we went to the town square and sat outside and had a beer and a few tapas.

This is a plate of deviled eggs with tuna.

This is a plate of pimentos stuffed with chorizo.

I hope everyone had a good day.

Good evening from Santo Domingo de la Calzada, Spain.

We got up at 6:00 AM and were out the door of the alburgue by 7:00 AM. The alburgue was off the Camino in the heart of Logroño. Good for exploring Logroño, but bad for finding the Camino early in the morning when the city is still asleep and there is no one around to ask directions. I saw a couple with backpacks who were looking at a map. I figured they were pilgrims who knew what they were doing so I decided to follow them. They wandered around Logroño for about 15 minutes with me 10 yards behind them trying to act like I was not following them. Then they made an entirely unexpected move. They ducked into the Dublin.

You can’t even imagine my surprise at this turn of events. Now what do I do. It’s about 7:15 AM, I am totally lost in Logroño and my guides just decided to go bar hopping. I got mad and decided to follow them into this Irish bar and have a WTF conversation with them. I went in and introduced myself and described my plight. They introduced themselves as Seamus and Bridget from the City of Dublin, Ireland. They had Googled “Best Irish bar in Logroño to get an early breakfast” and the Dublin was Google’s top recommendation. They invited me to join them for breakfast and assured me that after breakfast they would guide me to the Camino and out of town. I was hungry so I decided to accept their invitation to breakfast. We had a tortilla with potatoes. Of course with potatoes, it is an Irish pub and you know how much the Irish like their potatoes. We also had to wash the tortilla down with a couple of pints of Guinness. It is an Irish pub and you know how much the Irish love their Guinness. We had a shot of Jamison for the road, bade farewell to the barkeep, and made our way to the Camino. After a couple of woozy kilometers I had to stop and take a nap. I gave Seamus a hearty handshake and Bridget a very suave air kiss on both cheeks and off they went down the Camino.

After a 30 minute nap I awoke rested, refreshed and ready to tackle the Camino and the almost 30 kilometer hike ahead of me.

This is a beautiful lake in a park just outside Logroño.

This is a donation fruit stand on the Camino in the park just outside Logroño. The guy who looks like Santa Claus is the proprietor. I told him about my problem with the Spanish “don’t touch the fruit” rule. He told me that it is a stupid rule and he does not follow this rule at his fruit stand. He encouraged me to touch all his bananas and then pick out the best one. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I enjoyed visiting this guy’s fruit stand without fear of retribution or reprisal from a snotty fruit stand owner. From now on I am only going to get my fruit from donation fruit stands.

Great news! I found a golf course on the Camino. This is the clubhouse.

It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but the pro shop and the snack bar weren’t half bad. The pro, who bore a striking resemblance to Carl in Caddyshack, said he had a ladies tournament going on this morning but he could get me out for a quick nine holes at about noon. I told him I couldn’t wait around that long and thanked him for his hospitality. As I was walking out the door I noticed he had a theater/7 Eleven type hot dog machine with a couple of dogs cooking on the rollers. I asked him if the hot dogs were Hebrew National All Beef Franks. He looked at me like I was crazy and said that they were local hot dogs, made with 100% pork and they used every part of the pig 🐷, including the squeal, to make them. I just can’t get away from pig products in Spain. I politely declined his offer to make me a dog for the road and headed back to the Camino.

This is a view of the park and the lake with Logroño in the distance.

This is Navarette, the first village I encountered during my morning hike along the Way. I had a second, no alcohol, breakfast there. I also visited the magnificent 16th century Church of the Assumption. This church has a four story carved and gold leaf covered altar piece. We lit a candle and said a prayer for Anna who is back in the hospital.

Navarette is about 11 kilometers from Logrono. After that it is an 18 kilometer slog to the next town and final resting place for the day, Najera.

Navarette is where we leave Navarre and enter Rioja. As I am sure you aware, Rioja is a famous wine producing region.

We walked through lush vineyards like this from Navarette to Najera. I feasted on grapes from the vineyards adjacent to the Camino, and they were ambrosial.

This is a shrine on the side of the Camino in one of the vineyards. We stopped and said a prayer for Anna. Notice the animal to the saint’s left, on the right hand side of the picture. Yep, it’s a cow, a beef cow 🥩, not a dairy 🥛 cow. The Spaniards in this neck of the woods have a patron saint for beef cows but they are trying to tell me there is no beef for me or any other Pilgrim. I am getting real tired of this “hide the beef” game the Spanish are playing. Do I need to interrupt my Camino and fly to Texas to get a steak 🥩 and a loaded baked potato 🥔? I have one question for you wiley Spaniards, “Where’s the Beef?”

About 200 kilometers down and about 600 kilometers to go.

I arrived in Najera and checked into the Municipal Alburgue. Ninety beds in one room. It is about half full. No sign of Vlad the Inhaler so far and it is getting late

I hope everyone had a great Wednesday

Good night from Najera, Spain.

There was a full moon last night so Abe suggested we get up early, about 6:30 AM, and start walking at 7:00 AM, by the light of the full moon. Great idea Abe. It was a magical walk.

This is a view of the sunrise looking back to the East. We walked for 7 kilometers until we reached Sansol, where I had breakfast.

This is the view as we approached Sansol. I had a croissant and fresh squeezed orange juice and a banana. The next town, Torres del Rio, is only a kilometer away. As I was walking through Torres del Rio I saw the strangest thing. There was a guy in his 40s walking around town in flip flops, tighty whitey underwear and an underwear shirt tucked into his tighty whiteys. He was marching from parked car to parked car checking the doors to make sure they were locked.

There was a dog that was half asleep that saw this and got a little agitated by it.

I call this picture: “Let sleeping dogs lie on the Camino.”

Anyway, this dog got up and started to run at this guy, barking up a storm. The dog was barking, not underwear guy. Although I bet that underwear guy, under the right circumstances, could bark like a mad dog. Anyway, the dog lunged in and tried to nip this guy’s ankle. Underwear guy sternly shouted a couple of words in Spanish at the dog that Google Translate could not translate to English. The dog immediately pinned back his ears, curled his tail between his legs and slunk, or is it slinked, back to his usual resting place in the shade on the side of the Camino. After this display of canine mastery, underwear guy proudly strode off like a Spanish matador who has just vanquished a raging bull. I know you all want to see a picture of underwear guy but the whole thing happened so fast that I did not have a chance to get out my phone and take a picture.

From Torres del Rio to the next village, Viana, is about 8 kilometers. The countryside along the way was beautiful.

Along the way I encountered a guy who was sitting beside the Camino displaying his rock sculptures and asking for donations. He also had a boom box playing Ravi Shankar type music to set the mood. I talked to the guy and told him that his rock sculptures were great, but suggested that he lay off the drugs and alcohol and maybe look for a real job. I left him a couple of bucks, or Euros as they call them over here, and went on down the road.

This is the view as I was struggling up to the top of Alto del Poyo. These are sheep with bells. The racket from the bells was deafening. I am starting to feel like Quasimodo with all the bells and the backpack hump on my back. By the way, or BTW, for you younger people, anytime I refer to anything that has an Alto in its name, that means there is a hill involved.

This is a view of the trail to Viana from the top of Alto del Poyo. What a beautiful blue bird day. Those are vineyards and olive orchards.

This is a sign along the Camino reminding all Pilgrims why we are walking the Way. I stopped and said a prayer for Anna.

I saw this poster as I was walking through the outskirts of Viana. Country Rock in Spain 🇪🇸! Can you imagine that?

I stopped in Viana and had lunch across the street from the Church of Saint Mary, where pope Cesar Borgia is buried.

This is the massive, stunning main altar piece in the Church of Saint Mary. There were six other equally stunning altar pieces in the naves of this church. I lit a candle and said a prayer for Anna.

Every fruit stand in Spain comes with a sign warning you that you are not allowed to touch the fruit. How do you buy the fruit if you can’t touch it? How does the fruit get from the display to the checkout counter unless you carry it there and violate the no touching the fruit rule? Can I touch the fruit after I buy it? I tried to quiz the owner of this fruit stand about the ins and outs of the “no touching the fruit rule” and got nowhere. I guess the “no touching the fruit rule” will remain a conundrum for me and I will remain fruitless on my Camino unless and until I can solve this riddle or work up the courage to violate this rule.

This is a view of the trail to Logroño, my final destination for the day.

As I was walking through Logroño I spied this beautiful rose bush.

The smell from this rose bush was heavenly. My end of the day smell was not so heavenly. I picked a couple of the roses and tucked them in the outer recesses of my backpack to mask my stench.

I got to the Alburgue Logroño, checked to make sure that Vlad the Inhaler was not staying there and got a bed in a small room with six bunk beds. I got a top and bottom sheet and a towel so, as my Father always says, I will be farting through silk tonight!

This is the massive Cathedral in Logroño. It was closed but I stood outside and said a prayer for Anna.

I hope everyone had a good Tuesday.

Good night from Logroño, Spain.

No sleep last night.

Last night at the alburgue Casa Magica I shared a dormitory sleeping room with four other people. There was a couple from Vermont, a woman from Germany and Vladislav, Vlad, from Romania. After dinner everyone was tired so we were in our separate beds with the lights out by 9:30. That is when the trouble began. Vlad immediately began to snore so loudly that he rattled the windows. I had my earplugs in and that didn’t even begin to dampen the racket. Vlad is one of those inhale snorers. His exhale was just a little wheeze, but on the inhale he sounded like a pig rooting in a slop bucket. This went on all night long. According to alburgue etiquette you can’t wake up someone who is snoring, you just have to put up with it. Needless to say I did not get a wink of sleep. This morning as we were packing our packs Vlad politely asked me how I slept. I told him that I did not sleep at all and his snoring would put a lumberjack to shame. He was not surprised by this. He then told me that the pilgrims at the last alburgue nicknamed him Vlad the Inhaler. Apparently, there was a 14th century nobleman in Romania who liked to impale his enemies on stakes. They called him Vlad the Impaler. The frustrated and sleepless pilgrims at the previous alburgue thought that it would be funny to give Vlad an alburgue nickname, Vlad the Inhaler. Today I walked 26 kilometers from Villatuerta to Los Arcos in a sleep deprived fog, hoping to put some distance between me and Vlad the Inhaler. When I was checking into the alburgue in Los Arcos I asked them if Vlad the Inhaler was staying at the alburgue tonight. They answered in the affirmative and told me that the only bed available was in a dorm room with Vlad and six other people. I politely declined their offer to put me up for the night and found a pension where I will have a room to myself. I hope that I have seen the last of Vlad the Inhaler during my Camino.

I got out on the trail by 7:00 AM. I walked for about 30 minutes and as dawn was breaking I looked back and got this great picture of the church at Villatuerta at sunrise.

As the sun was climbing above the horizon it bathed the hills to the West with a golden light.

This is a fountain at the east end of Estrella. The inscription reads: “Good bread excellent water and wine meat and fish are all necessary for happiness.

Apparently they kayak in Estrella. Who knew?

This is the infamous free wine fountain in Irache. This is another picture every pilgrim is required to take. The wine is free, and that is a good thing, but it is awful. It is not as bad as MD 20/20 but it is close. I got the picture and then poured the wine on the ground.

Beautiful pictures of harvested hayfields.

These are blackberry bushes. I filled my hat with blackberries and had a nice snack.

This is the Fountain of the Moors near Azqueta. You go through the arches and down 15 steps and you get to a spring fed well.

This little old lady was sitting by the side of the Camino playing her accordion for tips. I gave her a generous tip and asked her to play some polka music. She gave me a look like she didn’t understand. I figured that if she plays the accordion she must know some polka, Lawrence Welk type songs, like The Beer Barrel Polka. I spent 10 minutes trying to get her to play a polka on her accordion and finally gave up. Another disappointment on the Camino.

Aren’t these beautiful hay fields? You use hay to feed cows, right?

And then the cows magically turn into steak. Not ham or chicken, steak.

I have not had a piece of beef since I arrived in Spain 7 days ago. I am convinced that there is plenty of steak around here but the Spaniards are keeping all the beef for themselves and feeding us pilgrims all the ham and chicken. I am getting tired of ham and chicken and am hankering for a steak and a loaded baked potato.

This is a roach coach parked on the side of the Camino about 6 kilometers from my final destination, Los Arcos. As I was sitting there enjoying a Spanish Gatorade, “It’s Raining Men”, the disco song by The Weather Girls, came blaring out of the proprietor’s boom box. Once a song like that gets in your head you wind up walking with it to your next destination. So I walked 6 kilometers to Los Arcos singing “It’s Raining Men.”

This is my humble abode for tonight in Los Arcos. I am heading out for a bite to eat and then to bed.

Dinner

Seafood paella. Good but not nearly as good as last night or the night before.

I hope everyone had a great Monday.

Good night from Los Arcos, Spain.

We got up at 6:00 AM and went down to the kitchen area for the alburgue provided breakfast. The kitchen area was swarming with Italian pilgrims drinking espresso and complaining bitterly that there was no orange juice. It was pretty meager breakfast fare, toast and ham and cheese sandwiches. I made myself yet another ham and cheese sandwich and looked around for something to drink, other than the ubiquitous coffee, to help me choke down the sandwich. There was a sign that said there was yogurt in the fridge. I found the fridge in the laundry room. I have no idea why the fridge was in the laundry room and not the kitchen. In the fridge I found gold, three big cartons of OJ. I drank one of the cartons myself and grabbed the remaining two cartons, one in each hand. I then strode triumphantly into the kitchen area, raised my hands above my head like Rocky at the top of the stairs at City Hall in Philly, and exclaimed: “You sons and daughters of Rome, I came, I saw and I found the orange juice. Come and get it!” They were so excited that they stampeded at me like I was the Walmart greeter who opens the front door on the Black Friday sale. With shouts of bravo, bravo, bravissimo ringing in my ears, I did a mike drop with an empty orange juice cup and left the room. Then Abe pointed out that there was a good chance that I had liberated the albergue owner’s secret stash of OJ. I proposed that we blame it on St. Christopher. Instead, we decided to get out of the alburgue and out of town as fast as possible.

This is the path leading out of Puente La Renia.

This is the first town, Maneru, we encountered on own journey today.

This is the elephant walk, nose to tail, pilgrim style. The town in the distance is the second town we walked through, Cirauqui. I stopped here and had an apple and a yogurt.

Yes, this a vineyard.

They make very good wine in Spain and don’t like it when you tell them that their wine is good but not nearly as good as Napa Valley wine.

This is a close up shot of the grape vines. They haven’t harvested yet. I harvested a few grapes and ate them. They were the best grapes ever. When I popped them in my mouth and bit down on them there was a flavor explosion in my mouth.

This picture is a look back at the trail we walked during the morning. As I was taking this picture I encountered a member of the Italian contingent from this morning’s albergue orange juice incident. We did a fist bump and exchanged ciaos, when I noticed he was carrying a boom box the size of a loaf of bread. He was playing opera music on the boom box. I know what you are thinking: “Mark, how would you know it was opera music when you have absolutely no experience with or understanding of opera?” That is a good point, but the guy was Italian and it did sound like what I imagine opera should sound like. You had to be there.

This is Casa Magica. It is an alburgue in Villatuerta.

I have been listening to a podcast on the Camino hosted by Dan Mullins. The name sounds Irish but he lives in Australia. A couple of months ago Dan spent an entire hour interviewing the owners of this unique albergue. It is in a very old building but is very new age, with incense burning and light jazz playing throughout the common areas. There is a shaded courtyard in the back of this alburgue with a fountain, tables and chairs and hammocks.

I checked in at 1:00 PM, showered, washed my clothes and had lunch at a bar around the corner

The stuffed peppers were delicious.

I am now on the covered terrace of Casa Magica laying in a hammock and typing this blog post. We are having a group dinner at 7:30 PM. The cook told me we are going to have paella for dinner. I told him I had paella last night in Puente La Renia and it was very good. He said his paella is so good it will make me forget about the paella I had last night. I am already hungry and it is four hours to dinner.

Dinner

Salad was the first course.

We had meatballs for the second course.

We had paella for the third course.

This is the paella pan. It was as big as a truck tire.

We had flan for dessert.

What a great meal!

I hope everyone had a restful Sunday.

Good night from the Casa Magica in Villafuerta, Spain.