It’s strange but I would have sworn that today’s walk was very flat until Nájera and then there was a steep climb up 150m or so then flat again the rest of the way to Azofra. Of course, I would have been wrong.  I just looked at details of the walk that my Garmin watch measured and there was a gentle incline of 120m up over the first 8km, then a gentle drop of 200m over the next 8km, then that steep climb of 50m, not 150m, after Nájera before finishing the day with bumpy ups and downs on small rolling hills. I think my mind was just overly occupied today.  In the first hour I just admired the color in the sky at sunrise.  After that, there was a long debate in my head (and a shorter one with Melanie) as to whether or not we should detour past Ventosa and save mileage.  After that, I wasted too much time regretting my decision about skipping Ventosa as well as my mistake.  Finally, from Nájera to Azofra, I had a great chat with Canadian Roger who is doing his first Camino.

Before I get to today’s walk though, I forgot a story from yesterday that I should have included. While walking towards our hotel, we saw that there was a laundromat just around the corner from our hotel. I use those when I can save time from handwashing, wash more than just our walking undergarments, and to keep my hands looking like they have never been used for work in my life. When we got there though, we found that the room was as hot as a tin roof hut in a desert.  We started the washer but escaped to a bar just down the road. We waited there and also had a mini lunch and some drinks.  When it was time to put the clothes in the dryer, I told the barman in Spanish that I would return in just a moment and I pointed to Melanie who I was leaving behind as collateral.  I hadn’t paid yet and planned on getting another drink when I got back.  I missed the commotion but the barman’s wife came running out of the kitchen after me. When she saw Melanie was still there, she was quite keen on getting the 8€ bill paid pretty darn quick. Melanie just shrugged her shoulders because I had the money with me.  There was a huge sigh of relief when I retuned. My reputation must not be too good in Spain. 

On the walk today, we met up with a young American boy on his first Camino.  I was a few steps behind Melanie so he tried to chat her up.  He asked where she was from and when she replied “Singapore”, he showed off his knowledge by saying that he knew Singapore had two official languages (there are four).  He also slowed down his English, used smaller, simpler words but with much more volume so that Melanie could understand (she isn’t used to American’s way of speaking).  He told her that he was from a city called “Fill—a—del—fi—a”.  Melanie immediately replied while pointing to me “Oh, my husband is Canadian and he has siblings in that part of the country”.  Miss smarty pants. We did chat for a while and he was a nice kid.  He is still a little overwhelmed by the Camino but he’ll be a veteran soon.  

My big mistake today was misreading the guidebook about the mileage.  We left Navarrete before any cafes were open so we knew we had to walk at least about 7km to Ventosa on an empty stomach, Melanie’s least favorite thing to do. The problem is that a few years ago, the Camino gods stopped pilgrims from walking through Ventosa and created an arrow-straight walking track parallel to the nearby highway.  Now, we have an option.  We can leave the nice, straight but noisy walking track to head into Ventosa for food but that adds 1.5km to the day’s total mileage.  Or we can keep the total mileage lower, stay on the track, and walk to Nájera at the 11km mark. Melanie voted to just go 4km more and save 1.5km – she’s a trouper.  Unfortunately, after three more kilometers, I could not see Nájera coming into view and it’s a big town.  I checked the guidebook again and realized that I had misread the distances. Nájera was not at the 11km mark for the day, it was 11km beyond Ventosa. In other words, we were saving 1.5km for the day but by delaying breakfast by three more hours. We didn’t eat our first breakfast today until 12:15pm!!!  We usually have had three breakfasts by that time!

By the way, that lunch was special because of the two older men sitting next to us that Melanie chatted up.  We each had a slice of tortilla (a filling egg & potato concoction) and a drink.  Melanie’s new friends demanded that she go back to the bar lady and get picante (spicy) sauce to go with the tortilla. It made it 100 times better.  They chatted with us for a while about the Camino and just couldn’t understand why we weren’t doing 40km days. They also admitted that they never walked the Camino yet so I’ll wait for them to do those distances every day.

As we were walking through Nájera, Shelly and her husband came rolling down the road to say hello from their new rental bikes. They both are having walking issues so they decided to ride bikes for a few days then try walking again. It also helps them cover the entire French route.  That’s not a bad idea at all, if you have limited time or an injury.  While we were still saying goodbye to them, the husband saw German Susi come walking down the road and called her over to say goodbye. I think he was a little disappointed when Susi came running over with a huge smile and outstretched arms… to say hello to Melanie. Now he knows how I feel everyday. 

Yet again, we spent much of the way from Nájera to Azofra talking with yet another Canadian couple. While I spoke with Roger, Melanie trailed behind with Carol. Yet again, again, the topics ranged widely from how our parents died to why we are walking the Camino.  You talk about things with strangers on the Camino that you may not talk about with your best friend back home. 

The story from after arriving in Azofra was a doozy.  We are staying in a pensión with six rooms and the couple that runs it probably live in Madrid.  Everything is done remotely. After I paid and registered on-line two days ago, I got a message that said they would provide me with the front door and bedroom door codes as well as room assignment at 1:00pm today. Sure enough, a 1:00pm, a WhatsApp message came in from a strange number saying that the door code for the front and bedroom doors were both 113355 and that we were in room N1. Well, the “N” confused me a bit but I checked and there were only the 6 rooms with a big 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, or 6 on the doors.  I tried the code at door number 1 and, voila, I was in. We immediately started our routine (and I apologize for putting this visual image in your mind).  We both got out of our sweaty clothes and Melanie showered while I laid down on the bed with a towel wrapped around my waste. That’s the position I was in as a fellow German pilgrim walked into the room.  He was also assigned room N1 and had the codes. He backed out the door immediately. I hurried to get my sweaty clothes on again and ran downstairs to apologize and lessen his embarrassment.  It turns out that the owner messed up and she quickly changed his room to number 3. The moral of the story is that you should never fully depend on those small towels they give you to use in Spanish pensións. 

Another story about inclusivity and how it matters.  When we went down to dinner, only one person looked like a pilgrim eating on his own.  He looked like a young tough guy with his head shaven and tattoos covering both arms. I am ashamed to say that I was afraid to ask him to join us so he had a solitary dinner and that was wrong.  He may have preferred to eat on his own but I should have offered. Fast forward to later in the meal, we were just finishing our dinner when a young woman walked in and sat at a table by herself. Melanie thought that the woman could be Asian so she felt compelled. She told me to get the bill when I was ready but that she would go over to the woman to find out her story. Melanie introduced herself and asked if she could sit and talk for a few minutes.  It turns that the woman was from Eastern Europe but travelling alone. She had eaten by herself for almost  every meal for the past ten days. She was despondent, telling Melanie that she felt so lonely.  Then she began to cry. Ten minutes later, when I came over, Melanie stood up and gave her the kind of hug that I am so used to.  She promised to chat on the trail or share a meal the next time they met.  Small acts of kindness may mean the world to someone else. They should also mean the world to us.

Peace y’all!  Goodnight George, Leo and Stella. Happy71st anniversary Mom & Dad. Dance on cloud nine today.