September 11, 2018
- Route: Navarette to Cirueña
- Distance: 30 kilometers (18.6 miles)
This morning began with a nice walk through more vineyards. The Rioja wine region is just dotted with them. And although I ate my breakfast before departing the albergue, I felt like I was starving by mid-morning. Perhaps it looking at all the grapes on the vines that sparked my appetite. Or maybe the ‘hiker hunger’ was starting to kick in.
Hiker hunger is a term for the sharply increased appetite you begin feel after several days out on the trail. Your body realizes all the long days of walking aren’t just a temporary change, so your metabolism starts kicking into high gear to sustain all that exercise. You seem to be able to eat, and eat, and eat!
My budding hiker hunger is probably why I needed to stop for ‘second breakfast’ in the town of Ventosa. I found a lovely little cafe with outdoor seating, and I shared a table with an Australian teacher who was walking the Camino too. I could definitely get used to this lifestyle. The cafe con leche and a pastries in Spain are just too good to bypass. And since I’m averaging 20 miles a day, it’s nice to be able to eat these delicacies without worrying about gaining weight.
Mountains & Giants
The rest of the morning was an easy walk through more wine country. There were acres upon acres of grapes growing here, and it felt like I was walking in California’s Napa Valley.
Off in the distance I could see mountains paralleling my path to the north. The Cantabrian mountain chain runs along Spain’s northern coastline for most of this journey. The pilgrims on the Camino del Norte walk their route on the opposite of those mountains, exchanging sweeping ocean views for picturesque vineyards.
Continuing past the vineyards, I encountered a large stone hut. Nearby there was a marker explaining this hill was the site of the epic battle between Chalemagne’s nephew Roldán and the giant named Ferragut (it’s essentially a medieval story modeled after David and Goliath).
The legend begins in the town of Aléson, where the Roldán and his knights were on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. As they descended from the hill toward the town’s watchtower, they spotted a castle in the nearby town of Nájera, which occupied by a 9-foot tall Syrian giant named Ferragut. The giant challenged the Frenchman to combat, and Roldán accepted. After hours of battle on horseback, the two fighters agreed to a truce. But the battle resumed, lasting two more days and nights. In the end, Ferragut fell on top of Roldán, and trapped Roldán under his immense weight. Realizing that the giant’s weak spot was his navel, Roldán plunged his dagger into the Farragut’s stomach and killed him. And with this feat, Roldán’s fame spread through Europe.
And so, my morning seemed to be occupied with thoughts of giant mountains and giants in general.
The Red Cliffs
Around lunchtime, I walked through the biggest town of the day – Nájera. I didn’t see Farragut’s fabled castle during my visit. But, one of the sights that made this town interesting was it’s geology. The town reminded me of the Southwestern US, and was nestled along a river with steep red cliffs rising beside it.
A small park along the river was the perfect spot for me to enjoy the lunch I’d packed. In addition to the tortillas I found yesterday (yes, I’m still excited about that discovery), I had a nice array of cheeses and olives. If only I knew where to get some grapes to add to the mix…
Speaking Hungarian
The rest of the afternoon was filled with vineyards, farms, and even a few olive groves. Once again, the afternoon sun was brutally hot with little shade to protect me. I didn’t expect it to be this warm in mid-September, and am glad I brought my lightweight umbrella to provide me with some shade whenever I started to feel like I was overheating.
The afternoon’s journey took me past two towns with nearly identical names. The first, Ciriñuela, looked like an upscale golf resort with just a few streets of expensive homes. Other than the swanky-looking restaurant in town, there were no services for pilgrims.
The second town, Cireuña, was more austere, but it had two albergues to choose from. I ended up finding a bunk in the larger one, Albergue Virgen de Guadalupe, and soon discovered it that is had a very colorful owner.
He was in the middle of his ‘welcome spiel’ with some other pilgrims when I arrived, and was loudly explaining to them that one bathroom was just for poo-poo and pee-pee, and it didn’t have a shower. Then he continued his animated tour, pointing to the next bathroom, which he explained had a shower AND was for poo-poo and pee-pee. I overheard him give this vivid tour of the albergue several more times before dinner and it cracked me up each and every time! Most of us are quite aware of what events take place in a bathroom without the pre-school style description.
One of the most enjoyable parts of this albergue was the dinner. It was served family-style with 20 pilgrims seated around an exceptionally long table. When the owner announced that dinner was ready to be served, we all descended on the dining room, and that’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. When I turned around, I was shocked to see my good old Hungarian friend with the lopsided haircut!
I hadn’t seen him since Lorca, and it was nice to see a familiar face for dinner. Even better, we were both seated across from a Romanian woman in her early 30s who spoke both excellent English and passable Hungarian. And so, using her as our translator, we got to hold an actual conversation! What an evening.
