The Navarre Region

6:38 PM, July 15, La Casa de Austria Albergue, Room 4

Instead of going day-by-day, since it is unnecessary to write full summaries each night, I figure I will now summarize the rest of my time in the Navarre region of Spain.

Lida, Lisa, and I became a group--we call ourselves a "Camino Family," a popular term among pilgrims--and have walked many lengths together. We tend to split up and walk at different paces as the day goes on, but we always stop for breakfast and lunch together in the cities, stay in the same hostels by night, and eat the pilgrims' dinners together. Walking with the two of them I have learned so much about how America is different than Holland and South Africa. Lucy had gone on ahead, but today, after going a personal record 36 km, we reunited with her. We're pretty sure Francesca is long gone (she planned to do 40 km per day! Yikes!). Isme was stopping after three days in Pamplona and John/Juan quit when his foot became infected.

Body-wise, it has been interesting. My legs and back are fine; this is sort of surprising, but I guess I'm more able to do about 28 km per day than I thought. I was sunburnt after the first day, but I bought overpriced spf 50 Loreal sunscreen (sorry, Dad, I know they're a business competitor) and now I'm doing fine. My feet, though, are killing me. I literally have 18 blisters, with new ones appearing every day. Also, it hurts SO very much to start walking; once warmed up, I'm okay and only in slight pain, but my left foot hurts so very much. I hope it's not infected. I bought Betadine, an iodine-based cleanser, and hopefully all will be well. Infection could spell the end of the Road.

The Navarre region is beautiful. Plenty of fields, small villages, and vineyards. On the latter, we passed the "fuente de vino" today, where pilgrims are invited to drink from a wine tap. Since there are water taps every so often (most from medieval times) along the Road, it was fun to find a wine tap. It is run by a monastery that makes Irache wines, and the wine was delicious. They have been giving the wine for free on tap for centuries to all the pilgrims that passed through. Wonderful tradition!

So many of the fields look like impressionist paintings (there were some hay bales that I sworn were torn from a Monet), and it is exciting how we start before the sun rises so that we can see as the sun's phases paint different color baths across the fields.

Passing through Pamplona was so very exciting. EVERYONE was wearing white with a red scarf around the neck or the waist for the Festival of San Fermin. I ran through where they had the barricades set up for the bulls, just to mimic the Corrida. I would have stayed and watched, but all of the pilgrims' hostels in Pamplona were closed in order to protect the pilgrims and keep them safe. I had some street food there that was wonderful too.

The food, speaking of which, has been excellent, natural, and local. I've never been into the sustainability movement, but these hostels execute it effortlessly while making delicious dishes.

Lida and Lisa both only have 3 weeks in which they will walk. They both intend to stop their pilgrimages somewhere around Leon and never actually make it to Santiago. This brings up two very interesting points that are worth mentioning. First, they have really re-emphasized the notion that the pilgrimage is not about reaching Santiago but about reaching something inside. They are perfectly content that their goal is not some physical location but instead something on the inside. Second, though, is what this means for my quest to be okay with being alone. My Camino Family was already fractured as Isma and Francesca and John/Juan left, and Lucy is a fleeting figure; when the three weeks are up, these two women who I have grown very close to will be gone, and I will have to go on alone. How perfect is this opportunity, yet how impending Leon has become. It's fascinating.

Tomorrow, to Logrono, where I will cross from the Navarre region into La Rioja.