I realized in the morning that I’d not arranged for my bag transfer the night before, and hoped to talk to the front desk person about it. I went downstairs at 7:00 and no one was there, and there wasn’t the usual pile of bags for Jacotrans to pick up.
Just then Hale FaceTimed me and I walked around talking into the phone like an obnoxious American. It was great to chat and to catch up with details at home. By the time we hung up I had got up the courage to make a phone call to Jacotrans in Spanish.
The driver answered and over the roar of the engine he said in effect “don’t worry, it will be alright!” They’re so nice. They must run into this all the time. And I need to chill out. I put my bag downstairs and had some coffee and tortilla with the women I’d met the night before.
Finally I was off and walking, and walked for a bit with my Swedish friend. We were about 45 minutes out when I put my hand in my pocket and felt the hotel room key. Drat!
I stopped and made my second Spanish phone call of the day. The guy at the front desk asked where I was staying next, and said I could leave them there. The inner critic was shaking her finger at me, but I decided to shake it off. Unfortunately, my Swedish friend had walked on, and I thought I’d catch up but I didn’t see her again.
The poppies were out and I found myself just enjoying the walking. The path started out flat and then climbed and went down and up several times.
I walked for awhile with the woman who had gone to UCSB, and learned she had roots in Alameda. After an hour or so she said see you later and took off up the path. She was walking at a faster pace.
I stopped at a food truck for a few minutes, then kept going.
The path popped out onto the roadway, just as the sun was climbing in the sky. It was really warm. Viana was out in the distance, and I wasn’t that tired, but was feeling the heat and the sun on my legs.
I felt physically strong even though I kept being passed by just about everyone. The walk up the final climb into Viana was ok, no huffing and puffing. I noticed there were a lot of new apartment buildings at the edge of town. On my first Camino, Casa Ivar was the first building all by itself and now it was surrounded by much bigger places.
Viana has a cheerful vibe. The Camino runs right down the middle of it, and there are bars and restaurants on either side. I tucked into the cathedral to cool off and realized it was Sunday morning and Mass was underway. I sat on a bench in the back that circled a pillar, edging my pack off my shoulders. There were lots of people in attendance, and some families with children. There seemed to be recorded music of a choir that supported the congregational singing, and was very well-integrated into the liturgy. At the Peace, I wandered outside, refreshed a bit from sitting against the cold stone pillar.
I walked down the Main Street and found a place to sit outside and order lunch. Should I taxi to Logroño? It was another 8k. The guys sitting next to me at the cafe said don’t believe the guidebook, it’s more like 12k.
We said Buen Camino and I noticed that across the street was a Pilgrim Welcome center. I stuck my head in, and saw the young woman who had been at Oasis Trails, and staffing the food truck several days ago. Her name was Clarissa. We laughed when we recognized each other. The Pilgrim Center was a respite spot run by the Dutch evangelicals. She made me a very nice Cafe con Leche and I decided to keep walking to Logroño. I was impressed with the Oasis Trails people, they were truly caring.
On the way out of Viana I ran into Mari, the German woman I’d met in Torres del Rio the day before. She was already at her albergue, and loving Viana.
Perhaps one of the things I’ve noticed this time is that I’ve met people I really like but I’m on a different timetable than folks walking straight through to Santiago, I would’ve liked to spend more time with her and others. But I’ve been working on being grateful for the connections I’ve made and enjoying them without laying out too many expectations on them.
I remembered the walk out of Viana as pleasant, through the backyards and vegetable gardens of regular people.
but still familiar
Now it was getting hot. The path took me alongside the back of a church where a big picnic was going on. Kids were running around the town spigot with their water pistols as I filled up my water bottle. Whole families were relaxing on blankets under the trees. The name of the place was Virgen de Cuervas. I looked inside the little church. There was a huge statue of the Virgin. It must have been their feast day,
On I went, and the route into Logroño seemed to have changed since last I walked it. For awhile it ran through a running grove of trees
There, on the side of the path, was another Spanish Civil War plaque.
Basically, it says, “In this place assassinated in 1936 on 3 September 27 neighbors of villages were victims of Franco’s fascism. The towns that forget their history are condemned to repeat it.”
It was a quiet spot along a leafy ditch near the side of an ordinary road. Once again, I was reminded of Spain’s violent past not so long ago. It gives me chills to think how easy it is for communities to descend into violence.
The rest of the walk was really hot and without shade. The Camino was now routed onto a blacktop path that wound its way under freeway overpasses. I found myself getting into that very slow, one step at a time mode. A few bicyclists were pushing their bikes, too.
After the long slow climb on the blacktop, Logroño came into view. It’s a major city, and thankfully, the Camino enters it by a less populated side.
My legs were really red and hot from heat rash when I made it into town and found my little hotel. Lots of steps to get upstairs to reception where a nice woman welcomed me and stamped my pilgrim passport. I collapsed on the bed and elevated my legs to help them out.
There’s a reason I don’t usually walk more than 15k and I was thankful I didn’t have any blisters. But it was a good day on the Camino!
One Footestep at a Time 