Our host handed us our breakfast bags last night. Tearing into it this morning I found a juice box, ham sandwich, banana, and a token for a cappuccino from the machine. Scarfed all that down while Joe was getting ready. He is definitely hurting today.
Church bells started their annoying 15 minute ringing thing promptly at 7:00. I had a chance to chat a bit with our host about that topic. He said it used to ring like that all night long. Folks in the neighborhood complained about it for years until the current compromise was reached.
Joe wants to be alone in his pain today, so I took off alone. It will be raining on/off today with high in the 60’s F. The topogrophy is noticeably changing. Mostly low rolling hills and a lot more grape vines and larger files of wheat, oats, barely, and hay.
I became fascinated by this building looming out of the mist in the middle of nowhere. For some reason imagined it to be a super secret biotech research facility. In reality, it is probably just some kind of packing house. The thing I don’t get is that giant 30’ tall by 50’ wide opening to the hillside. It looks like a loading dock, but there is no vehicle I could imagine that could reach the floor of the thing.
I was hiking along passing folks all morning. Walked up on my favorite grumpy Dutch lady, Tia. I popped out the ear buds and slowed my pace for a bit to chat. First thing she said was that I did not snore loudly last night. She did complain Joe’s volume.
Tia has had an interesting life. She was born in Holland, then moved to California at 5 years of age. She grew up there and was 2 years into her degree at Davis when her Mom moved back to Holland due to a divorce. She followed, never completing her degree. She felt like it put her on the back foot in credential obsessed Holland.
We talked about how Dutch public housing works, apparently she and her husband have rented all their lives as part of a public/private association that purchases apartment buildings, renovates them, then makes them available to its members under a strict rent control. What you pay and whether you even qualify is dependent on your income, number of kids, expenses, type of work, and a million other factors. She was clearly some kind of social worker which gave her some extra benefits in this scenario. She raised a family, is intelligent, productive, happy, and feels secure….so there are clearly merits to the system. I’ll have to read up on this someday.
It was time to pick up the pace, so at a pause in the conversation, I gave her a “Buen Camino” and left behind my lovable little opinionated Dutch lady. Next up was a little town conforming to the pattern seen in most towns in this region. An old mill by the river, ancient water drainage, and a church. Always a church.
Next on the menu was a small city Estella. I bumped into Joe here, munching away on his breakfast sandwich. We hiked for a bit together through town. I was starving, but really didn’t want to stop at some cafe. Instead I separated from Joe at a gas station on the edge of town and bought a tuna sandwich, pringles, and a bag of chips. OMG it was soooo good. I ate it outside in the doorway sheltered from the rain like a homeless tramp. The people gassing up their cars looked at me with a mixture of disdain and pity.
Walking through the suburbs of the town, I saw these two old lanky guys pointing and waving at a tourist map posted on a wall. Stopped to see what the ruckus was all about and met Bill and Brian from Southern England. These guys never stop talking and virtually everything they say is funny.
Brian (I think) has hiked the Camino before and is introducing his good friend Bill (I think) to it. Or it might be Bill is introducing Brian to it. Hard to keep those two straight. Anyway, we walked together for a bit talking about prince Andrew’s dalliances, Henry being pussy whipped, and Trump’s appalling lack of protocol with the King. God these guys were hilarious.
The best part was that we walked up on a famous stop where the Monks supply 100 liters of wine every day for Pilgrims. They have a webcam setup so you can watch the party on the internet. The tap is on the wall next to the Abbey. Brian (or Bill?) was going on about last time he was here, there was an Australian who couldn’t believe his luck. The guy had already been there for hours drinking from the tap, phoning his friends, and dancing for the webcam.
Honestly, the wine wasn’t that bad. I slurped up a bunch while the boys took a couple photos for me.
Saw this dog doing his zoomies in the field. Sorry for the poor camera work.
Arrived at Villa de Monjardin a little behind Joe. We got checked in and stuffed in a top floor room of 10+ hikers. Dominic was there next to us and I met a tall German dude named Andres who is pretty cool. Andre said we had met briefly in the Pyrenees, but I honestly didn’t recall. So many faces.
Our biggest problem at this point is that we’ve no where to stay tomorrow. We didn’t know how Joe would do in the coming days given his injury, so had not planned a destination. Now it haunts us. Joe finally got a message back from an Albergue in Samsol (20km ahead), they’ve one bed available which obviously should go to him. I figure worse case I’ll do a 40 to Logrono then we hook up the next day.