Moving On

We wake early in Lorca. Night before, some of the folks staying in the alburgue helped Ramon cook a dinner of spaghetti with chorizo and peppers, and a salad. After the day I'd had, it was heaven. I'm still not used to how DARK it is in the mornings here. Our 4th person in the room, a long, lean Frenchwoman, is out of the room and gone while the rest of us are struggling to come awake. There is the usual jockeying for the bathroom, this time right outside our door. Rita and I are ready very shortly, and decide to start on to the next town, Villatuerta, while Ingeborg finishes packing, etc. In no time, we are gone from Lorca, and seeking the trail in the near-dark. Fortuately, it's not hard to follow, even in dimness. As we near the highway, we meet up with our French roommate, coming back--it seems that she left one of her hiking poles in the room and did not want to abandon it. All I can think of is having to walk any part of this road twice is so discouraging! Slowly, bit by bit, the day lightens, and I can see that, after we cross over, then under, the highway, we are walking through farmland. In the distance, I can hear the grumble of tractors and other farm machinery getting ready for the day ahead. Despite my discouragment of yesterday, I feel good today, ready to walk and move on. I am learning that this is one of the interesting thing about this journey--if you make it to a place at the end of the day, no matter how tired, weary or down you may be, just having arrived is a triumph. And you get to start over, with a completely blank slate, the next day. Anything can happen. It's a great feeling.

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I am also glad to be starting off earlier. I like getting up and getting out, and arriving where we want to be fairly early in the day. Not so much because of being assured a bed, but just because I'm a morning person and I much prefer that to walking in the heat of the day. Rita and I have separated, but we keep eyes out for each other, and make sure we spot our guiding yellow arrows as we walk on.

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Within an hour or so, we reach the outskirts of Villatuerta! I'm feeling completely encouraged, we are making good time! As we walk into the town, I see for the first time an area that looks "suburban" in that there are some detached homes, with small yards, we walk past a school, with a playground, all empty and quiet still, and then we find what we have been looking for--a lovely cafe/bakery, that is serving wonderful coffee, fresh pastries and other goodies. Heaven!
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We find a table outside to offload our packs and go in to order and wait for Ingeborg to catch up. We greet some of the folks from the night before; a few stop, most move on. A good coffee, some yogurt (I'm living on yogurt these days, I think it's what is keeping my stomach in pretty good shape!), and a couple of granola-bar type things for later, and we are good to go. It's still cool outside, and the sun is just beginning to show in the east, but it's nice after the walk to sit, cool off, sip coffee, and get ready for the rest of the day.

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Ingeborg arrives, and we chat while she gets her breakfast. I see a Canadian couple that I chatted with briefly the night before. The woman, blonde and VERY manicured and made up, had some rather uncharitable things to say about some of the folks back in Lorca (whose population seemed to be made up almost entirely of elderly and disabled folks). Her husband apparently is quite the photographer, with loads of cameras, lenses, etc. They seem both an unlikely couple, and unlikely for being on El Camino, but I wave as they pass and try not to be too judgmental. After all, isn't that what this walk is all about? Coming to grips with the things in myself that I am not particularly satisfied with and leaving them behind--or at least trying to? I'm sure there are people who look at me and think who does this fat, American woman think she is, trying to walk here? So, I have no room to be even a "wee bit" superior (thank you, Church Lady!).
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Soon, the sun is up, we are done with breakfast, and we are off again. We pass quickly through Villatuerta, stopping in at a farmacia at the edge of town where I help Ingeborg buy some skin cream, and buy some cortisone cream and ibuprofen for myself. The bites are still bothering me, but not as much, and I do not seem to have gotten any new ones, which is encouraging!

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We make an easy journey from Villatuerta to Estella, which is a fairly large town, with a downsloping entrance from the Camino out of Villatuerta, and coming almost immediately upon:

The Iglesia del Santo Sepulcro. This is a 13th century church whose architecture reflecs the transition from Romanesqe to Gothic. Ingeborg reads to us about it from her very detailed guidebook. The structure, as are all medieval monuments, is impressive. We wander around it for a bit, also trying to spot the pilgrim's alburgue, and enjoying the atmosphere of the town. As seems to be usual so far, the river we have been following runs through the town:

and makes for lovely and peaceful views. As we move into the center of town, we are thinking of staying here and enjoying the amenities of a larger place, and of having an easy day's walking. We find a bus stop, but the ladies are hungry, so we set off in search of a place to eat. We wander the narrow street, see a few signs for cafes, etc., and finally go into a place that looks busy and seems to have lots of good things available. We pass through the restaurant into the patio at the back, which also leades out onto another street, and settle down at a table. Eventually, someone comes out to take our order. I ask for a menu, but I think the woman misunderstands me and thinks I'm asking about "the menu" meaning, if they have a fixed-price meal for the day. She says no menu, and I try to explain, I just want a regular menu, not a "menu del dia". She leaves, and then comes back with some laminated menus that she gives us. After a bit of translation, we figure out what we want, and I go back in to order, carrying the menus. But, alas, when I show the gentleman behind the counter what we want, he shakes his head vigorouly, no, no, no, they don't have any of that. Okay, I'm not going to fight about it, but why give us those if we can't order off them?

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I go back and tell the ladies, and immediately Ingeborg decides that they don't want pilgrims here, and, further, that she does not like Estella after all, and now she wants to move on. We go out the back, and follow the street to the left, and then see a little cafe place right on the river with a large open-air area with tables. We decide to go in there and pick tapas for lunch. There is a wide variety of things to pick from and we all get a lot of different things and share. Better than the other place anyway!

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Then, as we are rearranging our packs, Rita suddenly begins frantically searching for her wallet. It's gone! Where did she last have it? At the last place, apparently. Ingeborg says she will wait with our things while we run back to ask if anyone has turned in a wallet. I go back into the bar, and the man does not seem happy to see me, but I try to be as nice and pitiful as possible and tell them that my friend has lost her money, and has anyone turned anything in? No, nothing, no one has seen anything. I thank them and we go back to the plaza where we ate.

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I tell Rita to CAREFULLY search all her belongings again, every single pocket on the back, her clothing, etc. Very soon, she finds the wallet stashed in a place where she normally didn't put it. She is SO relieved! We have a group hug, then, since we are in a larger town, Rita wants to see if there is some kind of health food store where she can buy some cereal or something similar to eat that does not have flour or gluten in it. As we continue along, she sees a shop that has vitamins, etc. in the window and we go in. I have to say, the particular aroma of a "health food store" is the same in Spain as it is in the U.S. I can't put my finger on it, perhaps the aroma of bulk herbs, freshly cut, organic soap and oils, with an underlying hint of vitamin B, but I would know that scent anywhere in the world. We catch the attention of a sympathetic saleswoman, and I attempt to explain that Rita cannot eat wheat. The woman understands and steers us to several choices of cereal flakes that are made with alternative grains. Success! Rita buys a couple of bags, and we are off again, this time, in search of a taxi or bus.

At one point, I see a place that pilgrims (when you are on the Road, you ALWAYS know pilgrims when you see them!) are coming and going to and from. It appears to be a book shop/stationery store. I go in and the man behind the counter cheerfully greets me. I tell him that I and my 2 pilgrim friends will be needing a taxi in the morning (which is our plan NOW), and were can we catch one? Immediately, he springs into action, gives me a map of the town, takes me outside, shows me the streets, and tells me how many lights down, etc., and where the taxi station is. I thank him sincerely, then ask about possible guide books to the Camino in English, but alas, everything they have in English is the size and weight of a textbook, so nothing for me save the map. I greet the ladies outside and tell them we have success. A few blocks up, and we'll have a taxi, or, as I read the map, a bus if we prefer, as the taxi station and bus depot are right beside each other.

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We walk on, headed to the bus station, Ingeborg thinking that we should go maybe just a few KM onward and go to Los Arcos for the night. I personally would like to stay in Estella--I am liking the "vibe" of the town, etc., but for now, I am enjoying being with these companions of the road, and so off we go to the bus station. When we get there, I get to the ticket office and ask if there is a bus to Los Arcos. Yes, there is. When is the next one? At 1:15, about 45 minutes from now. Three tickets, then, I ask. The price is a whopping 5 Eruors (maybe $8.00) for all 3. Wow. I go back to the ladies and hand out tickets. Ingeborg, being a very proper German lady, insists to pay me at once. I tell her not to worry about the 1.48 Euros the ticket costs, and if she wants to repay me, she can buy me a coffee at the station bar while we wait. That is agreeable, and so we had to the bar to wait for our carriage that will take us to the next stop. This will be my first bus trip in Spain, and I am looking forward to it.