Well for onece it will not be the euros that get me but lights out time. I am now in Logroño, in a very pleasant albergue, run by some volunteer French hospitaleros. There have been Dutch a few nights ago It seems that people, often retired, and often former pilgrims will spend a few weeks each year working in an albergue. The one thiing that I woould change is the processing of pilgriims. Today there was a crowd waiting for over an hour as each person had details explaine and particulars taken.
Sat 12 May
Aanother early departure from Estella, and the first place I came to was Irache. This is renowned for its large monastery, and the local bodegas (wine company) installeation of a wine fountain next to the water for thirsty pilgrims. I had a mouthful for the amusement value, but at 0715 that was all I coould stomach! The next place I passed was Azqueta, another preetyy village, followed by Villamayor de Monjardin. Between these two was a large cistern, now restored which was saidd to date from Islamic times. This makes sense, as no seelf-respecting Christian back then would have washed!
The countryside continues to get drier, and fortunately fewere muddy patches. Something that is a regional Navarran specialty here is whiite asparagus, grown under black plastic to halt photosynthesis.
I arrived early in Los Arcos, which is another "one-street"pilgrimage town, and I have to say fairly nondescript. An intersteing feature of these that I only figured out today, is that as the camino goes east to west, in these towns where the church is in the middle of the main street, it is located with its south door as the main entrance from the street, i.e. the long axis parallel to the street. The church in Los Arcos is huge, and quite dominates the town, The interior is extraordinary, and while yet another floor to ceiling Baroque retablo, this one seems to be on steroids
Monday 14 May 2007
Sunday 13 May 2007
Leaving Estella
Saturday 12 May
This will be short as I have run out of 1 euro coins, but at least I am just about up to date.
It seems remarkable that it is just a week since I arrived in St Jean on a damp overcast day, and already it seems as if weeks have passed.
The camino out of Estella has been one of the pleasantest days, rolling but overall flattish, through green fields of wheat & other cereals, grapevines & olive groves. Despite it still being quite green, the lushness of the higher country around Pamplona has passed, and it is distinctly drier. talk later when I have more change
This will be short as I have run out of 1 euro coins, but at least I am just about up to date.
It seems remarkable that it is just a week since I arrived in St Jean on a damp overcast day, and already it seems as if weeks have passed.
The camino out of Estella has been one of the pleasantest days, rolling but overall flattish, through green fields of wheat & other cereals, grapevines & olive groves. Despite it still being quite green, the lushness of the higher country around Pamplona has passed, and it is distinctly drier. talk later when I have more change
Estella
At Lorca, the Camino passes through another pretty village and over another stone Pilgrims Bridge on the Rio Salado. This place was mentioned by Aymeric Picaud, a C12 monk sent to Santiago by Pope Callixtus to write a tourist guide to the Camino. He did not ,in general, like the Spanish. At Lorca he asked a couple of Navarrese who were sitting on the riverbank sharpening knives whether the water was OK for his horses. They said yes, but in short order the horses collapsed and the men skinned them at once. They are kinder to peregrinos now. Afetr that was Villatuerca
Estella was the place where I stayed, probably about the last Basque town I pass through. There is an enormous church on the way into town with sculptures of the apostles on the outside that loooks poised to fall on the unwary. Estella is dripping with churches, and the one that I visited was the church of San Pedro, an old pilgrimage church. It apparently houses the scapula of St Andrew, left here by a Greek bishop on the way to Santiago who died here. It has a wonderful cloister 11-12C with lots of photogenic monsters and staues of St Peter.
There is also , a few streets from the albergue the Palace of the Kings of Navarre - they were in Estella for a while after Pamplona was trashed, thanks Charlie - which is noted as one of the largest remianing ewxamples of romanesque civil architecture.
Estella was the place where I stayed, probably about the last Basque town I pass through. There is an enormous church on the way into town with sculptures of the apostles on the outside that loooks poised to fall on the unwary. Estella is dripping with churches, and the one that I visited was the church of San Pedro, an old pilgrimage church. It apparently houses the scapula of St Andrew, left here by a Greek bishop on the way to Santiago who died here. It has a wonderful cloister 11-12C with lots of photogenic monsters and staues of St Peter.
There is also , a few streets from the albergue the Palace of the Kings of Navarre - they were in Estella for a while after Pamplona was trashed, thanks Charlie - which is noted as one of the largest remianing ewxamples of romanesque civil architecture.
To Estella
Friday 11 May
I have just looked at my last entry, and I am starting to see a pattern. Somewhere between Spain and Australia, Google is putting spelling errors in my work, like tares among the wheat. I guess I'll just wait until the harvest when I get home. In a similar vein, my apologies for a lack of pictures - I have certainly been taking plenty, but few of the computers along the way have had the facility to download off my camera, so just wait.
I started off this day at Puente la Reina, walking down the main street and out of town on the famous bridge. I passed through Mañeru, a small place with a fountain. It has become a rule for me that a fountain means that I take off my pack, drink my water bottle and fill it again. The amount of water one has to drink on warm days such as we are having now is surprising, and I think it may be related to the lack of public toilets in small Spanish towns and villages - they are just not needed!
From Mañeru, I walked to Cirauqui ("Nest of Vipers" in Basque apparently) a compact village on the top of a hill with another fountain in the middle. The church of San Andres has an interesting doorway, with mudejar details. The Mudejars were the moors who stayed on after the Reconquista and continued to add their own artistic touches in small ways.
Out of Cirauqui, the camino crosses an old Roman bridge and for the next 2km or so follows the alignement of the old Roman road or calzada. This tends to pop up from time to time and can be a bit tricky as the stone pavement has not had a legionary repair crew along here for a while. It is extraordinary to think of the slaves, soldiers, merchants pilgrims and others who have walked here. As I may have mentioned before, the camino follows the line of the Via Traiana which went from Burdigal(Bordeaux) to Astricum (Astorga) where the Romans had massive gold mines
I have just looked at my last entry, and I am starting to see a pattern. Somewhere between Spain and Australia, Google is putting spelling errors in my work, like tares among the wheat. I guess I'll just wait until the harvest when I get home. In a similar vein, my apologies for a lack of pictures - I have certainly been taking plenty, but few of the computers along the way have had the facility to download off my camera, so just wait.
I started off this day at Puente la Reina, walking down the main street and out of town on the famous bridge. I passed through Mañeru, a small place with a fountain. It has become a rule for me that a fountain means that I take off my pack, drink my water bottle and fill it again. The amount of water one has to drink on warm days such as we are having now is surprising, and I think it may be related to the lack of public toilets in small Spanish towns and villages - they are just not needed!
From Mañeru, I walked to Cirauqui ("Nest of Vipers" in Basque apparently) a compact village on the top of a hill with another fountain in the middle. The church of San Andres has an interesting doorway, with mudejar details. The Mudejars were the moors who stayed on after the Reconquista and continued to add their own artistic touches in small ways.
Out of Cirauqui, the camino crosses an old Roman bridge and for the next 2km or so follows the alignement of the old Roman road or calzada. This tends to pop up from time to time and can be a bit tricky as the stone pavement has not had a legionary repair crew along here for a while. It is extraordinary to think of the slaves, soldiers, merchants pilgrims and others who have walked here. As I may have mentioned before, the camino follows the line of the Via Traiana which went from Burdigal(Bordeaux) to Astricum (Astorga) where the Romans had massive gold mines
Saturday 12 May 2007
Puente la Reina
Thursday 10 May
Today I started off early again and waled from Cezur Menor, across a -relatively -small range called the Altes de Perdon there is a long line of wind generators whooshing away, and a sculpture of pilgrims put there by the electricity company.
There is a fountain there, not running alas, where a pilgrim was tempted to renounce his faith by the Devil in return for a drink of water. Naturally he refused, and who should then turn up but Santiago to provide the drink.
I took a detour to a tiny place called Eunate, where there is an 11C octagonal church. Some believe that it is of Templar origins. It is full of romanesque fantasies, but with its setting in the middle of whea fiels and light coming in through thin marble slabs, is very serene.
The Templars certainly operated along the camino guarding pilgrims although we tend to associate them mainly with the Crusades. I think that they have suffered in the modern age at the hand of Dan Brown and the like, just as they were disliked by envious kings and insecure popes in the past.
Eventually I reached Puenta la Reina. This would have originally been a one -street town along the camino, and even now, the main street is a canyon of two and three story buildings. The town has of course expanded outwards from this. The town really came into existence fron the pilgrim trade. The bridge in question is certainly the biggest mediaeval bridge I have seen yet, and was erected at the command of the wife of King Sancho. The ferrymen on the Arga were notorious for exploiting pilgrims. It is a beautiful five arched structure, but looking at it from a modern perspective, whre construction has to be absolutely square, level and plumb, it seems remarkable that it is still there . It seems to wobble but is obviously rock solid.
The albergues is run by the Padres Reparadores, who have a seminary across the street, and several other sites in Spain. They are attached to a rather severe C12 church, which is not made any more cheerful by a large crucufix brought froom Germany in thatpenitential german style. There is also the original pilgrims hostel, one of the earliest still extant
The other church in town is a complete contrast, huge baroque retablo, quite overwhelming.
Today I started off early again and waled from Cezur Menor, across a -relatively -small range called the Altes de Perdon there is a long line of wind generators whooshing away, and a sculpture of pilgrims put there by the electricity company.
There is a fountain there, not running alas, where a pilgrim was tempted to renounce his faith by the Devil in return for a drink of water. Naturally he refused, and who should then turn up but Santiago to provide the drink.
I took a detour to a tiny place called Eunate, where there is an 11C octagonal church. Some believe that it is of Templar origins. It is full of romanesque fantasies, but with its setting in the middle of whea fiels and light coming in through thin marble slabs, is very serene.
The Templars certainly operated along the camino guarding pilgrims although we tend to associate them mainly with the Crusades. I think that they have suffered in the modern age at the hand of Dan Brown and the like, just as they were disliked by envious kings and insecure popes in the past.
Eventually I reached Puenta la Reina. This would have originally been a one -street town along the camino, and even now, the main street is a canyon of two and three story buildings. The town has of course expanded outwards from this. The town really came into existence fron the pilgrim trade. The bridge in question is certainly the biggest mediaeval bridge I have seen yet, and was erected at the command of the wife of King Sancho. The ferrymen on the Arga were notorious for exploiting pilgrims. It is a beautiful five arched structure, but looking at it from a modern perspective, whre construction has to be absolutely square, level and plumb, it seems remarkable that it is still there . It seems to wobble but is obviously rock solid.
The albergues is run by the Padres Reparadores, who have a seminary across the street, and several other sites in Spain. They are attached to a rather severe C12 church, which is not made any more cheerful by a large crucufix brought froom Germany in thatpenitential german style. There is also the original pilgrims hostel, one of the earliest still extant
The other church in town is a complete contrast, huge baroque retablo, quite overwhelming.
A LazyDay
Wed 9 May
I had planned to stay in Pamplona for a second night but that would have involved finding a hotel, as one is strictly limited to one night in each place. I dont think that I mentioned that the albergue that I stayed in was the Convent of the Matres Adoratrices, which has a reputation for being strict, There were no nuns keeping lookout in the evening, but one dear old sould dishing out breakfast the next moring. Some of these places chuck in breakfast, some you have to pay a couple of euros extra, some have dispensing machines and some are just close to a bakery. I subsequently decided to go to a place called Cizur Menor, which is about 5km outside of Pamplona. I had the feeling that I had made some progress, and taken a little time off the next days walk but without doing anything too strenuous. I spent the morning looking at the Cathedral & diocesan museum which is in the old cellarium/refectorium/kitchen of the attached monastery. The cloister is renowned for its decoration. There seems to have been an extraordinary tendency in Spain to cover the fronts of some of their cathedrals with Baroque and neoclassical facades. The cathedral is an eaarly gothic building replacing the romanesque one which fell over, but stuck on the front is this dreadful confection. They did it to Santiago as well, heaven knows why.
The albergue in Cezur Menor was the nicest one yet, set in the garden of a large family home, and being extended. It is a private one, but costs the same as the usual parochial or municipal ones, and is run by the owner of the house who seems very energetic. The setting was very tranquil and lots of space to lie in the grass and doze. I met some Australians here, an engineer from Adelaide and a bookshop owner from Launcesteon, and ate with them. I have not mentioned yet that most of the people walking here are my age or older, and the younger "backpacker" types seem to be in the minority. Ther are certainly some fit people here!
I had planned to stay in Pamplona for a second night but that would have involved finding a hotel, as one is strictly limited to one night in each place. I dont think that I mentioned that the albergue that I stayed in was the Convent of the Matres Adoratrices, which has a reputation for being strict, There were no nuns keeping lookout in the evening, but one dear old sould dishing out breakfast the next moring. Some of these places chuck in breakfast, some you have to pay a couple of euros extra, some have dispensing machines and some are just close to a bakery. I subsequently decided to go to a place called Cizur Menor, which is about 5km outside of Pamplona. I had the feeling that I had made some progress, and taken a little time off the next days walk but without doing anything too strenuous. I spent the morning looking at the Cathedral & diocesan museum which is in the old cellarium/refectorium/kitchen of the attached monastery. The cloister is renowned for its decoration. There seems to have been an extraordinary tendency in Spain to cover the fronts of some of their cathedrals with Baroque and neoclassical facades. The cathedral is an eaarly gothic building replacing the romanesque one which fell over, but stuck on the front is this dreadful confection. They did it to Santiago as well, heaven knows why.
The albergue in Cezur Menor was the nicest one yet, set in the garden of a large family home, and being extended. It is a private one, but costs the same as the usual parochial or municipal ones, and is run by the owner of the house who seems very energetic. The setting was very tranquil and lots of space to lie in the grass and doze. I met some Australians here, an engineer from Adelaide and a bookshop owner from Launcesteon, and ate with them. I have not mentioned yet that most of the people walking here are my age or older, and the younger "backpacker" types seem to be in the minority. Ther are certainly some fit people here!
Friday 11 May 2007
The Milky Way
This is one image used to describe the camino from of old, as they roughly parallel. I gather that this imagery may actually date from pre-christian times.
To me it seems more like a river, staring with a trickle at the four French Routes (Paris/Tours, Vezelay, LePuy & Arles/Toulouse, increasing at Roncesvalles, and gradually gaining more and more until the end. One is certainly aware of people who have come on board since I started.
The pilgrim community is definitely a community, though, predominantly but not entirely spiritual in motive, and with a large Catholic minority as one might expect. What makes it different is that it is spread out over a long narrow distance. People come and go, you wish people a good days walking and may not see them again for a few days then they pop up again This happened tonight with a retired man that I had not seen since St Jean. He felt like an old friend, as we swapped stories over dinner. People get caught in eddies, as it were and then start flowing again
By "chance" as it never is, I was reading Hebrews12:1 "Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.. etc(sorry but you can look it up, cant remember it exactly) It certainly seemed very apposite, as not only it there the camaraderie and support of todays pilgrims, but evidence of millions who have been here before. Yes, and even the saints, foreign as a lot of the imagery is to me are here, barracking for us. I know I seem to have been visiting a lot of churches, but one seems to be drawn in, by more than architectura/cultural/historical interest. When a lot of people have worshipped in a place for long time , it seems to seep into the stones and leave a presence.
Pamplona, and I suspect I shall find elsewhere along the Camino, seems to derive a certain pcachet or pride in being a camino town, as well as taking on the responsibility that goes along with that. I only had to stand around looking baffled for about thirty seconds with hat, backpack and shell on, before some elderly Spaniard would materialise looking concerned "¿Camino de Santiago?" and there would be a lot of hand signals to put ne back in the right direction. I also heard a grandmother talking to a four or so yea r old "theyé pilgrims - they´re going to Compostela"
To me it seems more like a river, staring with a trickle at the four French Routes (Paris/Tours, Vezelay, LePuy & Arles/Toulouse, increasing at Roncesvalles, and gradually gaining more and more until the end. One is certainly aware of people who have come on board since I started.
The pilgrim community is definitely a community, though, predominantly but not entirely spiritual in motive, and with a large Catholic minority as one might expect. What makes it different is that it is spread out over a long narrow distance. People come and go, you wish people a good days walking and may not see them again for a few days then they pop up again This happened tonight with a retired man that I had not seen since St Jean. He felt like an old friend, as we swapped stories over dinner. People get caught in eddies, as it were and then start flowing again
By "chance" as it never is, I was reading Hebrews12:1 "Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.. etc(sorry but you can look it up, cant remember it exactly) It certainly seemed very apposite, as not only it there the camaraderie and support of todays pilgrims, but evidence of millions who have been here before. Yes, and even the saints, foreign as a lot of the imagery is to me are here, barracking for us. I know I seem to have been visiting a lot of churches, but one seems to be drawn in, by more than architectura/cultural/historical interest. When a lot of people have worshipped in a place for long time , it seems to seep into the stones and leave a presence.
Pamplona, and I suspect I shall find elsewhere along the Camino, seems to derive a certain pcachet or pride in being a camino town, as well as taking on the responsibility that goes along with that. I only had to stand around looking baffled for about thirty seconds with hat, backpack and shell on, before some elderly Spaniard would materialise looking concerned "¿Camino de Santiago?" and there would be a lot of hand signals to put ne back in the right direction. I also heard a grandmother talking to a four or so yea r old "theyé pilgrims - they´re going to Compostela"
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