Day Six: The Hardest Yet: Villatuerta

I lost Jackie. I got up at 5:30, meaning to be gone by six but actually getting on the road at 6:15. The morning was beautiful. Fresh and cool, the sun not hot, snails making trails across the path. I got to Obonos and thought I would get a drink out of the machine. That’s when I realized. My money belt, with my money, and my passport, and my credencial, were back in the locker in Muruzábal.

There was nothing to do but go back. So I walked 30 minutes back to the albergue, arriving at 7:15, 15 minutes after the time I was supposed to meet Jackie in Puenta la Reina. So I stopped and had some breakfast with Bernie. Then I got on the road and got to Puente la Reina around 830. Of course Jackie is long gone, as I would want her to be.

I walked alone for a while, and then I met Jute, who was on the Camino only for a day, as a birthday present. She and her dog Luke walked with me for several hours, until we got to Lorca. It was obvious she had her lunch with her, but I needed to buy mine. We actually had separated earlier, because Luke wanted to play in the stream and he was so hot and tired that Jute thought she needed to let him.

As I climbed the hills from Puente la Reina , before I met Juta, I saw the most beautiful yellow bushes that had the most heavenly smell. It was sweet and clean and it mingled with the scent of the pines to make a smell that was indescribable, but somehow wholly Spanish.

I did not mind being alone today. I am lying on my bed in my albergue now, the only pilgrim here, and as a result I am able to use voice to text, and this post will take me a lot less time than most usually do.

I am staying in Casa la Magica in Villatuerta. It’s nice. No bunkbeds. Of course the bunkbeds aren’t so bad, if you have the bottom bunk.

But back to being alone. I know I am not Catholic, and I hope I am not being sacrilegious, but I felt like a bead in a Rosery. I was separate, distinct, wholly myself, and yet part of something larger. The Camino is like the string that holds all of the beads of the rosary together. Even if you do not pray as you walk, to be part of it, is to be part of a prayer.

had gazpacho and txistorra, my favorite new sausage, for lunch in Lorca. I have had walked enough, with my trip back. So hard as it was, I tightened my boots and I kept going.

It was hot. My pack was heavy. My feet were sore. My knees were getting wobbly, even after I stopped for food. So I decided that I would not continue on to Estella, but stop in Villatuerta.

Those who have done the Camino Frances, and even some who have not, know that the ultimate English-speaking guide is the Brierley guide. That guide divides the Camino in 34 stages, and suggests a stopping place for each.

I have decided, temporarily at least, to stop one town before the Brierley guide. This is in part because it is still just too hard for me to do the walking to catch up to Brierleys guide at this point, and there’s no real reason why I should. The only timeline I have is be in Santiago ready to fly out on the 25th. That’s it.

Fred recommends I take a rest day in Logrono. It’s about two days walk from here. I am thinking very seriously that I might. I have now been traveling for a week, although I have only been walking for five days.

Fred told me he is going to Mother’s tonight to finish the deck. I asked him to explain to her how consuming the Camino is. When you walk it, walking is not just what you do, it is who you are. You are a pilgrim. It seems as if you have always been one, and will always be one. There is walking. That’s it. The other ties, family, friends, job, everything that belongs to your other life, are ties that pull you back. On the Camino, you are free, and the only other people who can understand are people who are, or have been, fellow pilgrims.

As Juta and I made our way down a cobblestone path, I mentioned how much I hate cobblestones. She replied, yes, but they are very old. I begin thinking of all the pilgrims, almost 1000 years of pilgrims, that had walked that road before me.

We came to a Roman bridge, still standing, still usable. I stood on the bridge and looked out and thought how what I saw could be almost exactly what a Roman had seen before me.

Even with voice to text I am falling asleep. The white wine that I had with my tuna sandwich must be affecting me. Good night.

Okay, I am crazy and insane for posting iat 2 in the morning, but I just saw stars! On the Horizon. Up in the heavens. Stars like I haven’t seen since I was a little girl. Stars that I wanted to see when I camped in the white desert, but the moon was too bright.Stars like Fred has possibly never seen. For those of you that remember, they’re still there.