Un vino mas, por favor. And tomorrow a bit off kilter

Otro vino Rioja

After a glorious day’s walking in the mountains of the Olvidado near Cistierna, and entering a town which seemed welcoming and navigable, the smooth Rioja just slid down my throat.

We walked from Puente Almuhey to Cistierna, about 20 km mostly over steep mountain paths. Paused at the sanctuary of Our Lady of Velilla .Watching the sun rays streaming through the clouds to touch the multicoloured mountain tops and curves, I can believe that this is a place of miracles.

Sanctuario Ntr.Sra.de La Velilla

Mary appeared here, the story goes, to Don Diego de Pedro in 1470. He built an ermita , a hermitage. The present monastery dates from the late 1600s. It continues to be a place of pilgrimage.

Then we hit the track again, uphill. And as we walked the views just absorbed my whole being. Miracles could happen here in this silence and early light. There were just views and views and more views as each time it seemed we’d reached a summit there was another climb and another perfect frame.

These photos just don’t do justice to the colours and shapes

We stopped for a drink of water and the remains of some cake from yesterday’s breakfast and I wished I could paint or sketch the landscape.

Have to take a selfie

Then it was down. Ah, we’re on that ridge and will walk along a level path. But no. The path suddenly changed direction and we almost miss a flecha. Then the surface becomes a dicey mix of loose gravel and slippery mud, and goes down steeply so I have to watch my footing. And so it goes, up and down with unexpected twists and turns. Surely that group of houses way below is Cistierna, our endpoint today?. No, another turn, away from the expected direction. The views are diminishing now as we enter a forest which obscures the shortening mountains. Then a long, sharp descent and I catch my foot just in time. There is Cistierna below. A mix of photos now as I was too breathless to take more.

Straight to a bar

And then a FaceTime call to Matilda, my granddaughter. Happy Birthday lovely girl. Find a room, shower, head back to the street and food: a good Rioja here we are.

So the morning after is hard. Up late, can’t find my toothpaste or dry socks, stiff as a board but too late for stretches. A bit off kilter.

A bit of a muddle this morning

But, it was worth it. Just to sit and watch and feel “Hey I’m here in Spain” Tomorrow is tomorrow.

Hasta manana .

Looking Backwards through this Guardo Window

Missed the tormento early this morning ,

And a tiny bit of gratitude

Late morning for us. Usually we’ve walked for 2 hours by now. But this morning we’re training. Busogrinos yesterday, trainegrinos today.

A new day and hopeful once again.

THANKS

Thanks for a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed

Thanks for not being out in that storm over the mountain

Thanks for the options we have.

I could go on, but you get the idea. Yesterday we were organising to jump the Olvidado path and head back to Bilbao.Various reasons, but in a nutshell the joy of moving and exploring, the connection to people and landscape comes in tiny splinters of light. We’re isolated metaphorically. The distances are long; long patches of dry, flat earth interspersed with intervals of climbs and impressive mountain views . Only problem, often too anxious and weary to absorb them, and too busy chasing the yellow flechas that point the way or following a wikiloc. The organisation: how far can we walk, is there anything between for food or rest, where can we stay tonight? When we finally reach a place it is sometimes away from the heart of the town with limited connection with the people or life here.

Leaving Aguilar yesterday . Still quite pretty

…. Some of this has been a part of every Camino we’ve walked. But here what we see and experience is, at times, only partially balanced by the organisation and the slog.

So this is about looking back on yesterday

Yes , started off well leaving Aguilar and walking through attractive landscape , Here’s the rainbow promising a bright day.

Past a couple of farm houses next to the fields. Silent as it’s getting hot. A necropolis on a hill top and a few crumbling churches. No coffee/bars.

First break an Irish peregrina walks towards us and the next 10 km pass quickly as we talk and walk. Reach a bar at the river

See. We’re happy here lovely spot

Walking with Elaine
And another walking pic

Elaine is walking the next 20 km. We say goodbye and head to the bus stop

We’ve done 20 and that’s enough.

Waiting at Alsa stop hopefully

The next half hour, it would have been three hours walking, we are busegrinos.

And the world goes swirling by from the comfort of our Alsa bus. Look at the climbing we’ve missed.

Arrival at destination and another round of finding somewhere to stay. Of course right across the opposite end of this town of Guardo. We have to settle for the Hotel who answered the phone. It’s on the edges of this sprawling town.

Train to Bilbao tomorrow maybe ? Right now we’re in two minds.

Then 2 hours later we walk the 2 km back to the centre and after couple of wines in a fairly busy bar next to the plaza, we’re going to give the Olvidado another shot.

Life is improving

So this morning we’re resuming the Camino Olvidado:part train today and all walk tomorrow.

Waiting for our train to Almuhey

A mix of bus/train/feet, for us peregrinos now, mixed journeying to break each stage into a manageable proportion. The mountains ahead we are told are the most memorable part of the Olvidado.

“Life is a journey not a destination “

Why? Why? Why?; This Time I Don’t Know.

A worn , chipped century old door. But it’s still faintly coloured and working .

I’m often asked “why do you walk in Spain? What about the Bibulman, that’s right here in Western Australia and so accessible.”

The only answer I usually give is rather a cliched one of “Because I can” (and for a more detailed answer see blog of :Porque Caminando?,26/5/2018).

Today though by my answer is “because I’m able to right now and I might not be around to do it later”…..etc. This late morning though, slogging out km through a not especially attractive countryside, with small hamlets without bars so no coffee, hitting bitumen at times, avoiding cow pats and stones with my poles, I answer with no real conviction. In fact the dark realisation taking shape in this heat and sparseness is: “well I can’t do it“

And the other related question: do I want to do it ?

Still 12 km to go and it’s hot .

The most interesting landmarks, or walk marks today apart from the faded wooden door heading this post have been the herds of cows crossing a small stream in front of us or staring immobile as we passed ( probably the only interesting thing they have seen for weeks), and the large sheepdog sitting quietly watching as we passed.

He’s too hot to even raise a bark

There you are I am so done in I’ve forgotten the Menhir we viewed a few km back. Medieval. There are 42 of them in Cantabria I think the notice said. So others trekked across this landscape thousands of years ago, and I bet they were not as ungrateful as I am. The Olvidado should have stayed forgotten, in my view right now.

Menhir de La Llaneda

Past 5 o’clock we limped into this large town of Aguilar de Campoo and my first, not very nice thought, was to do with a mix of poo and eagles at sight of the industrial edge. But … ..BAR . Coca-Cola Zero and cerveza. It’s starting to seem a smidgen better already as I plonk my stiff thighs onto the stool. Next up to find a bed .

And here we are this morning. I can feel the ground. I can move my legs. A day off today and life is ok again. After a few coffees we’re off to explore this town.

Carry on walking the Olvidado

Lots of Windows. Different Views: From a Spanish Plaza.

Espinosa Plaza looking out

Sitting in the main plaza looking out at this Spanish late night world. In Fremantle we’d be at least brushing teeth and preparing for bed at 10.30 pm. Here we’re watching kids tearing around on scooters, some wailing as they fall off, toddlers crying, and heated conversations from the adults sitting with beers and wine and food. Older people no quietly observing.

A father shoots across the plaza following a boy on his scooter. A woman picks up a screaming child. Two older women wheel another across the plaza. Someone walks by arm in arm with an old man needing help to walk.

We move to a restaurant upstairs. I watch from another window as a wheelchair is pushed over the crossing below. A single red car drives by. The plaza is quietening.

Night colours pretty street

11 o’clock on a week night in a small town and street life is shutting down . But all the generations have been out together, making a noise and having fun.

And I’ll write from another Spanish window next blog.