Najera to Santo Domingo

Not a cloud in the big blue sky as I retrieved the hanging laundry, packed up my bag, and headed outside. Pilgrims passed by our Albergue one at a time as they headed up the hill and out of sight. Food was on my mind after yesterdays debacle, and I made for the cafes in the opposite direction.

Mostly everyone was there or slowly arriving, getting breakfast or making sure their gear was packed and ready. I dropped my bag at a table and ordered the first thing I saw: a Spanish Tortilla.

An eager-to-get-started feeling started to set in after I finished eating. Told everyone that I'd see them in Santo, grabbed my backpack, and headed back up the densely packed cobblestone road towards our Albergue.

Tania was nowhere to be found when I got back but her trekking poles were gone. She was probably already out on the trail. I threw out some trash from my pockets, extended my trekking poles, and hit the road with a steady beat.

The morning's walk uphill forced me to shed my jacket as soon as I crested the top of the hill and stared out at irrigated farmland. Off in the distance were mountains flanking either side of the visible world. I didn't know it then, but it was going to be a long time until The Way would take us through them again.

Water running through pipes and canals kept the trail company as the farmed vegetation continuously changed from small green plants to larger bushes, and back. The beautifully evil poppies exploded in abundance on one side, while the other was carefully maintained to keep those pesky invaders away.

The sun was relentless today, and before long my shirt was nearly soaked through. Azofra was the first town for a rest that morning, but I was in such a good mood and had a good speed going so I kept going. Might have been a mistake.

Shortly after Azofra the farms faded away as the trail took a sharp turn towards the highway, and then a left turn as it returned to pure countryside. After that there were no detours off of the path, and no rest stops, for the next 13 kilometers to Cirueña.

My attention, however, was not on the hot sun, or the stretch ahead that had no places to take a break. Instead, it was fixed on the endless green fields in front of me. The gravel path that marked The Way shot like a bullet across its surface, splitting the green world in two.

Islands of trees dotted the tops of hills on the horizon with lines made from tractor tires heading straight for them. Wisps of white clouds stretched themselves thin across the dark blue sky. Small clumps of puffy clouds swept their shadows across the perfectly bright green fields.

Luckily there was a rest stop ahead at the top of a steep hill. It had benches, reclining sun chairs, and little statues. A perfect place to enjoy my snacks in the shade and to let my back take a breather.

The ghost town of Cirueña wasn't that much further.

A golf course on the left greeted the Pilgrims, along with some odd looking statues and sculptures of the pilgrimage. But this golf course had bathrooms, and I was in dire need of one. On my way out I ran into Tania. We chilled for a few minutes before picking up where we both left off and got back on the marked sidewalk taking us through empty housing developments and back out to the green pastures.

Santo Domingo slowly rose from the ground in the distance as the dark gray clouds marched over the hills to the South. Our focus was now getting there before it rained. A herd of sheep followed along side us as we walked into town. The Albergue here, the only one really, was massive but had good amenities.

The rain started to fall as I checked in to my home for the night. It was Sunday, and many of the bars/restaurants were closed for the afternoon. We did our usual routine of shower + laundry + nap.

I noticed back in Logrono that my flip-flops which I used for showering were not up to the additional task of walking around town at the end of the day. I found a hiking gear store next door and popped in. They were selling hiking sandals, and I didn't waste much time in deciding to invest in a pair. My feet felt like they were walking on air, and the sides of my feet were no longer being torn into by thin straps.

Happy with my purchase I put them to use by walking around town to get some cash, and to check out the church. As I got back to the Albergue the others were beginning to arrive, soaked from the rain.

After sitting around for a while at the Albergue (again, nothing open because Sunday), Leon and I decided to take a walk and explore the city. We ended up talking and walking for nearly two hours about work, philosophy (his current major in college), and where we wanted to take our futures. Our journey took us to the edge of town, and down along their main street and past fancy restaurants.

For dinner I found a bar that sold real eggs. You have no idea how amazing the simplest of foods can taste when you’re forced to forgo them because of weight and your hierarchy of needs while backpacking.

I’m amazed that today was only 20km, but that it felt easy, and I only stopped for 10-15 minutes in total today. Tomorrow should be another short day, but the rain did not look like it was going to stay away for long.