Goodbyes (to Estella)
Trip Start
Aug 25, 2008
1
6
24
Trip End
Oct 02, 2008
Estella,
Navarra,
Spain and Canary Islands
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Again, there are people on the road I've already met before, like Outdoor Croc girl and her Canadian pal. Enjoying a little walk in the morning sun, mist rising around me, I take out my MP3 player and start listening to some music. Walking to music is quite the thing to do, as it boosts my speed and steadies my rhythm. Only I get to do it for some ten minutes or so before I catch up with Gerda on the first ascent. Well, as Gerda definitely is going to take it slower from now on, this is goodbye. I'm somewhat irritated, but yes, that's the way it has to be. So we wish each other well and I continue on my own pace. Two minutes later, I meet Agnesa on top of the hill. We chat a little and another two minutes later Gerda joins in. That somehow spoils the big emotional goodbye, so I press on, this time being accompanied by Agnesa.
We stick together for most of the time, but after some six hours of walking Agnesa decides to stay put in a village called Lorca. So it's big goodbyes again, this time for real. We exchange cell phone numbers and agree to stay in contact. Feels kind of awkward to leave my travel companion behind, but still feeling fine and able to the whole stage today as planned, I move on. Alongside goes 40-kilometres-Sven, who looks a little bit beaten by that time of the day.
Sunset over Puenta la Reina
Still seems to suffer from his forced march to Pamplona, the poor guy.The afternoon sun is hot and beating down on us. I come to realise why the five-o-clock-plastic-bag-rustler start out so early. We're out in the open; there are hardly any trees and almost no shade on the Camino. Passing through vineyards and olive groves, we catch sight of a chapel about 0,3 waldis off the road. If nothing else, it promises some shade. There are other pilgrims who apparently were thinking just the same thing: there are the two young French girls from the shower incident two days ago (I am not going to talk about that), a Spaniard and of course, José-María. As the girls don't talk to Sven despite his formidable French (and probably me), he leaves me talking to José-María.
Resting seemed like a good thing then, but after half an hour, with the French gals gone ahead, getting up again is somewhat painful. I realise that my body hasn't fully accustomed yet to the strain, and the last few kilometres uphill to Estella seem to hurt twofold. Suddenly, out of nowhere, my hips start to ache. Even worse, my knees, which where fairly unproblematic yesterday, join in, so by the time we arrive at the next spring I'm limping so strong that people put on concerned faces and ask me if everything's alright. I lay out in detail the different pains I'm feeling, and kind and mildly-tempered José just sticks by my side without saying very much. After some time I fall into a dull silence, and he takes over the conversation by telling me what he learned today.
Climbing the albergue
Quite a lot, as it seems; I am unable to follow the conversation anymore, for my concentration ebbs as waves of pain shoot through my body with every limping step. My motivation is rapidly falling to unknown depths, and I am more than grateful as we finally arrive at Estella.It turns out that the refuge we chose is run by people with disabilities. Nice. I meet a girl from Lower Austria who listens sympathetically to my detailed pain report, and of course there are the Viennese. There's just no way of not recognising the dialect, shouted around the room at least 15 decibel louder than any other language spoken. Oh well. No escape from that.
Later on, everybody is gone, and it looks like I would have to have pilgrim's menu alone for the first time. You know, Estella is big, and there are at least 15 restaurants to choose from. I stumble into the first one I find, and suddenly, big surprise, there's Max and Petra sitting in front of me enjoying a lovely lovely pizza. Joyful of seeing each other again, I join them, gobble down my pilgrim's menu and the other half of Petra's pizza until I'm fully satisfied. What a day! Upon returning to the albergue, I learn that Max and Petra have already made the acquaintance of the Viennese. They stay outside while I get ready for sleeping. It's a quarter to eleven, 15 minutes before the lights are to be put out, and I want to use that extra time for writing some lines, when suddenly there's a harsh voice telling everyone in broadest Viennese dialect: "Licht aus!" Darkness follows. Of course. Whatever, I don't care. I had the best meal so far, I've got a nice bunk bed and fully satisfied I fall asleep.
