I had a surprisingly good sleep in my albergue bunk bed next to 7 other people. When I woke up at 6:30 almost everyone was gone. After packing up my duffel that I’ve been shipping ahead, I finally got out the door headed to Estella, about 15k away.
Leaving Cirauqui the Camino follows a stretch of Roman Road. It’s cool to walk on it and image the history behind it, but it’s also challenging to walk on because it’s so uneven.
The path opened up to some of the most beautiful scenery so far (I keep saying that).
Far in the distance I could see a ridge lit up by the sun.
A few kilometers down the path I wondered if I’d set up the bag transfer correctly. I’d paid for two days ahead on the app but realized I hadn’t gotten an email confirmation for today’s transfer. Camino probs in 2025! I mentally saluted the two French women carrying their big packs. They weren’t second guessing themselves like this. There was a certain freedom in carrying everything.
Since I’d used Booking.com for last night’s reservation I messaged the host and asked if my bag had been picked up. He said they hadn’t come yet, and volunteered to call Jacotrans for me to confirm I wanted service. Thank you! Now I really felt like the high-maintenance American.
The morning was pretty easy, a few hills here and there, but I realized I was finally feeling more fit. I also realized that I remembered very little of this stretch.
I stopped for a snack, an Aquarius, and a foot rest at a local’s bar in Lorca. The lady behind the bar didn’t know what to do with me. There are many Spanish people in the small places who don’t know any English (I’m not saying they should) and often that’s where what Spanish I have can make a difference. But some people are uncomfortable with trying to understand it. She couldn’t understand my pronunciation of Aquarius, but a guy at the bar said to me, “Aqu-OAR-ius” Then she could understand.
By the way, it’s a refreshing drink that has electrolytes but doesn’t have that icky Gatorade sweetness.
Just outside Estella I came upon this Ermita or hermitage. The guidebook says it was once part of an 11th century monastery, now long gone. I was shocked to see that it was open. Inside it was totally empty with an altar at one end where people had left items like an oferta. No windows. The layers of history were palpable.
The olive trees surrounding the ermita were gnarled and twisted, truly centuries old.
The light there was extraordinary. The air is so clean in the Spanish countryside, maybe that helps.
Just a short distance into Estella I saw a beautiful horse next to the path.
Then the Camino went up a steep hill (of course!) past the power plant, and followed the river into Estella. My albergue was on the right, the first one as I entered town.
Hostelería de Curtidores is a private albergue in a restored tannery right on the river. I was there at 1:00 and the owner was outside greeting pilgrims. He remembered my name from the booking.com probably because I reserved two nights, which is kind of unusual. He checked me in and showed me all the marvels of the place: a modern kitchen for pilgrims, a comfortable hangout area, and a code for the front door and dormitory door so there were no issues with being locked out. “You could go to the discotheque and come back whenever you want!” Haha
The room was amazing. I had a regular bed and there was another bed plus two cubby beds near the entrance.
The shower and toilet opened directly on the room. Probably not the way we’d do it in the US but it worked well. (I also noticed that the walls and ceiling were made of particle board. That wouldn’t pass fire code at home.)
The room overlooked the river and with the windows open the sound of running water was soothing.
The room was also for only, so that was nice , too. There was an English woman in the cubby, and a young woman from Brooklyn named Yardley. They were chatty, and I felt very comfortable.
After the usual unpacking and showering I took a walk further into town to look around and find an early (for Spain) dinner.
The Camino passed Iglesia Santo Suplico on the left.
It was under renovation and the stone was cleaned, revealing areas still holding some medieval paint. That’s Jesus “harrowing hell” and pulling out souls from the jaws of death. I also read that those guys holding up the tympanum are supposed to be Jewish moneylenders.
I had dinner at a restaurant overlooking the river. It was watching the scene across the river with balconies and also kids accessing the river from the alleyways. It wasn’t as “controlled” for safety as at home. The dinner was ok but for the first time I found the bill to be surprisingly expensive, more like Bay Area prices.
On the way out of the restaurant, I saw Andy, a nice Irish guy from the night before in Cirauqui, eating by himself, too. I wish I’d seen him earlier.
Here’s another Camino anomaly, I felt completely comfortable sitting down at his table and visiting. We talked about Americans on the Camino and we touched on current American politics, how much I wanted to be away from it and how Europeans are baffled by what’s happening in the US. It was a repeat Camino for him, too,
He shared what a big deal JFK had been in Ireland when he grew up. The whole country came to a stop when JFK came to visit his ancestral village. We shared where we were when JFK was shot. Turns out Andy was five years older than I am, so he was 10 and I was 5. So long ago.
Then Andy had to get back to his albergue before it was locked for the night at 10:00, and it time for me to head back, too. Too bad he wasn’t staying at my albergue, with that digital code on the front door. We could’ve stayed out later. Traditional albergues lock the front door at 10:00 and are very serious about it. I’d been locked out before and it was no fun.
One Footestep at a Time 