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| It's steeper than it looks |
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| Civil War Memorial |
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| Destination Map El Camino |
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| Making dinner at the hostel |
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| Dinner is served |
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| Hostel Dining Room |
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| Meditation area |
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| Church at Night |
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The Trek to Granon
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Ringing the Bell of Santiago
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"If you love the earth you will become dirt. If you love God you will become God."~ St. Augustine |
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| Ringing the Bell of Santiago |
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
The Long, Hot Day to Najera
July 31, 2012 - The Hike from Logrono to Najera
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| Museum in Najera |
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| Stone Hut |
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| Ancient Pilgrim Church between Logrono and Najera |
Monday, July 30, 2012
Estella- working for my dinner (July 27)
Traveling the Camino can be a bit like living in the United Nations. Every language and culture is represented and amazingly we all find a way to communicate. Food is a great way to break down communication barriers.
I arrived in Estella not knowing much about the places to stay in town and so I read a sign that said "Albergue Parroquial". I thought it might be nice to see what a parish run hostel is like.
I was greeted with a glass of red wine by Franco who only spoke Italian and who took my bag and led me to a very small room full of bunk beds. Then he asked me if I wanted to share in the dinner that night. I have never passed on food so I said, "grazie!"
It turns out that this parish hostel is staffed by volunteers who take a two week turns at welcoming pilgrims. There is no charge for the hostel, but everybody helps and then we pool our resources to make dinner.
I peeled potatoes and chopped onions until I cried. Franco had me help him start the outdoor grill to fry the vegetarian frittata. A trio of Italian pilgrims helped cook over the grill while a Frenchman and four Basque Pilgrims made the salad.
Franco decided to make it my birthday as a cover story in case the parish priest arrived because he did not like them cooking outside. Later, Franco asked me what I did for a living. :)
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| Cathedral in Estella |
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| Working for Our Dinner |
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| Cooking Dinner |
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| Dinner Afuera |
It turns out that this parish hostel is staffed by volunteers who take a two week turns at welcoming pilgrims. There is no charge for the hostel, but everybody helps and then we pool our resources to make dinner.
I peeled potatoes and chopped onions until I cried. Franco had me help him start the outdoor grill to fry the vegetarian frittata. A trio of Italian pilgrims helped cook over the grill while a Frenchman and four Basque Pilgrims made the salad.
Franco decided to make it my birthday as a cover story in case the parish priest arrived because he did not like them cooking outside. Later, Franco asked me what I did for a living. :)
Rioja- pronounced Whee Oh Ha!
Logrono is the capital of the Rioja wine country. In my mind I was thinking about Napa Valley. It is different here. They are very focused on making wine, but they are not as interested in giving tours and explaining what they do.
I tried all day to find a wine country tour. Whenever I would ask someone about visiting the wineries they would look at me like I was asking to watch chickens lay eggs.
Agriculture here is a business, not a tourist industry. In the end I had to settle for buying a really great bottle of wine and having a picnic in the park along the river with some friends of the Camino.
I am
sure, with a car, that a great experience of the Rioja wine country can
be had. But for a pilgrim on his feet on a day that is intended for
rest, a tour of the local park was much better.
Tomorrow is a very long and tough day. We have over 30 kilometers to our next stop in Najera with a serious climb to begin the day. The forecast is also calling for plus 100 degree temperatures tomorrow.
Sabbath was always part of God's plan for us. To rest is not just a good idea. It is a humble recognition that we have no idea what lies ahead.
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| Entering Logrono |
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| My Friend Laura |
I tried all day to find a wine country tour. Whenever I would ask someone about visiting the wineries they would look at me like I was asking to watch chickens lay eggs.
Agriculture here is a business, not a tourist industry. In the end I had to settle for buying a really great bottle of wine and having a picnic in the park along the river with some friends of the Camino.
I am
sure, with a car, that a great experience of the Rioja wine country can
be had. But for a pilgrim on his feet on a day that is intended for
rest, a tour of the local park was much better. Tomorrow is a very long and tough day. We have over 30 kilometers to our next stop in Najera with a serious climb to begin the day. The forecast is also calling for plus 100 degree temperatures tomorrow.
Sabbath was always part of God's plan for us. To rest is not just a good idea. It is a humble recognition that we have no idea what lies ahead.
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| Father David Poses with Hiker Statue |
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| Logrono Cathedral |
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| Wine Country |
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| Wine Skin Meets the Wine |
St. James' Day
This morning I did not have to rush because I was only going to walk about 6 miles. Instead of waking before the sun was up I had a chance to stroll the streets of Pamplona and enjoy a nice breakfast with Bernard. We were talking about the different people on the Camino and how they approach others.
Some people continue to live as if they are in competition with the other pilgrims on the trail. They try to be first in to a town or hostel. They always want the bottom bunk. They try to top other people's stories. It seems to come back to the difference between people who live out of fear and those who love without condition.
About this time our waiter, who had seemed to ignore us up to this point, came up to our table and said in perfect English, "If I listen to your lies, what would you say? Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dream."
Evidently our waiter is a big fan of Boy George. The song he was speaking to us was "Karma Chameleon." It was a rather humorous accent mark on our conversation. About the same time the bells of the Cathedral starting ringing indicating the 15 minute warning before Mass and so we quickly paid our bill and headed to Church.
The Gospel at Mass was Matthew 20: 20-28. James and John have their mother ask Jesus for places of honor for them at his right and left hand in the kingdom.
They did eventually receive places of honor, but as martyrs. To be the least and the last is not easy. It requires great love.
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| Sunrise in Pamplona |
About this time our waiter, who had seemed to ignore us up to this point, came up to our table and said in perfect English, "If I listen to your lies, what would you say? Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dream."
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| Breakfast with Marc and Bernard |
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| Waiter at Breakfast |
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| Cathedral in Pamplona |
Evidently our waiter is a big fan of Boy George. The song he was speaking to us was "Karma Chameleon." It was a rather humorous accent mark on our conversation. About the same time the bells of the Cathedral starting ringing indicating the 15 minute warning before Mass and so we quickly paid our bill and headed to Church.
The Gospel at Mass was Matthew 20: 20-28. James and John have their mother ask Jesus for places of honor for them at his right and left hand in the kingdom.
They did eventually receive places of honor, but as martyrs. To be the least and the last is not easy. It requires great love.
Cizur Menor-Roncar July 25
Roncar: to snore. Evidently I snore. Loudly. But only when I am on my back.
I walked from Pamplona to Cizur Menor on a day when the temperature hit 106 degrees Farenheit. I only walked six miles, but I was really tired and I knew I had a hard day ahead of me over Alto de Perdon (the hill of forgiveness). I went to bed early and had my bag packed for the next morning. It was so hot in the hostel that I slept in a pool of sweat.
Somewhere during the night, a little Italian woman named Giulia tapped me on the shoulder to tell me to roll over so I would stop snoring. Obviously, my snoring has never bothered me, so I was a little surprised that it bothered Giulia enough to wake me up. At first I was irritated. Then, when I could not get back to sleep, I was mad.
I was so hot that I quietly climbed down from my top bunk and started walking. Even though it was 4:30 a.m. I thought walking in the morning air would be better than sweating in the hostel or risking the wrath of Giulia if I snored again.
With my headlamp scaring every cat in town, I started walking. It was already about 85 degrees and the sun had not even thought about getting up.
As I reached the Alto de Perdon, the sun climbed above the hills and began it's brutal assault. By the time I reached the top of the hill, all of my carefully applied sunscreen had liquified and dripped off of me. Luckily there was a bench and some shade.
As I sat looking over the valley below, I thought about the times when I had failed to forgive and the times when I had failed to ask for forgiveness. I even thought about Giulia and how irritated I had been at her. I was really glad she had been asleep when I left the hostel. I did not want to have to speak with her.
But when you are sitting on the "Hill of Forgiveness", you can't move on if you are holding a grudge. So I said a prayer that Giulia would have a good day getting over the hill and that maybe she could forgive me for snoring.
I walked from Pamplona to Cizur Menor on a day when the temperature hit 106 degrees Farenheit. I only walked six miles, but I was really tired and I knew I had a hard day ahead of me over Alto de Perdon (the hill of forgiveness). I went to bed early and had my bag packed for the next morning. It was so hot in the hostel that I slept in a pool of sweat.
Somewhere during the night, a little Italian woman named Giulia tapped me on the shoulder to tell me to roll over so I would stop snoring. Obviously, my snoring has never bothered me, so I was a little surprised that it bothered Giulia enough to wake me up. At first I was irritated. Then, when I could not get back to sleep, I was mad.
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| Hostel |
I was so hot that I quietly climbed down from my top bunk and started walking. Even though it was 4:30 a.m. I thought walking in the morning air would be better than sweating in the hostel or risking the wrath of Giulia if I snored again.
With my headlamp scaring every cat in town, I started walking. It was already about 85 degrees and the sun had not even thought about getting up.
As I reached the Alto de Perdon, the sun climbed above the hills and began it's brutal assault. By the time I reached the top of the hill, all of my carefully applied sunscreen had liquified and dripped off of me. Luckily there was a bench and some shade.As I sat looking over the valley below, I thought about the times when I had failed to forgive and the times when I had failed to ask for forgiveness. I even thought about Giulia and how irritated I had been at her. I was really glad she had been asleep when I left the hostel. I did not want to have to speak with her.
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| Alto de Perdon |
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| Temperatures over 100 degrees |
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| At the Top of Alto de Perdon |
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