Winning with wine

16.4.19. So, last night, I didn’t eat. This morning, I didn’t eat, either. This was a bit of an issue. Firstly, and most obviously, because it might affect my ability to walk. Or rather, walk very far. Secondly, it was proof of a bad habit of mine rearing its ugly head again – not taking proper care of myself. A long time ago I used to live by myself and when I did, I fainted on two separate occasions because I had not got round to eating for too long. It was my own fault – I put other things first, things that I enjoyed more, like reading, and as a result never got round to eating until whump. I fell over. On both occasions I was fortunate not to hurt myself. Would that happen today?

Fortunately, it didn’t. I stepped out of the albergue and made some last adjustments to myself before getting ready to walk. As I did so, Ellena and Carolin appeared. We said ‘hello’ to each other, started chatting, and then started walking together. We’d keep doing so until 23rd May when we finally said out goodbyes at Santiago airport. In that time, Ellena kept us all on the straight and sensible, including in respect of eating.

As the sun rose, the day grew warmer. Our target was Los Arcos, nearly 25 kilometres away. Our first stop, however, was five kilometres up the road: Irache. For here was a most wonderful, marvellous, and magnificent thing that blesses Spain by its presence: a free wine tap.

A free wine tap?

Yes! A free wine tap; put there for thirsty pilgrims to drink out of their shells before continuing on their way. When we reached the tap, I realised that I had tied my shell to my backpack too tightly to free it. Ellena did a very holy thing, though, and let me fill her shell up and drink from it. Not instead of her – I could not have lived with myself if I had deprived her of wine – but after she had had her sip. We drank. We marvelled at the presence of the tap, drank, and went on our way.

At this point, please let me rail against those pilgrims – if so they be – who abuse the kindness of whoever donates the wine by not drinking it from their shells but by actually filling their water bottles. These people are extremely selfish, scurvy, and abominable. Let them be anathema. There is only so much wine to be dispensed every day. By filling one’s water bottle, one is depriving needy pilgrims of the opportunity of drinking it, and that is a dreadful thing to do. If you are one of those people I implore you to get on your knees and seek the good Lord’s forgiveness. There is no sin He will not forgive, even one as bad as this, though he may make you drink sparkling water for ten years in reparation.

Okay, I’ve got that out of my system. Let’s keep walking. Rather knavishly, the path now went uphill. It soon levelled out though and we made good progress until the heat of the day inspired us to take a break.

As we walked through – ? Possibly Azqueta, but wherever we were, we came upon a bunch (or a gaggle? What is the appropriate collective noun?) of pilgrims sitting outside a café. If it’s good for the goose -. We sat down at a free table. While outside the café, we met a couple of nice dogs. During the Camino, we would meet numerous canines, nearly all of them friendly. And if they were nervous, Ellena had the gift of calming them. She was our dog-whisperer.

Bu today, we sat down. I bought some lolly pops. We met George, an American who was walking the Camino with his husband. I liked George and was very happy when we met him again further on. Unfortunately, his husband (whose name I can’t remember) didn’t enjoy the walking and flew back to America. George kept walking, I hope to Santiago.

So, we ate our lolly pops. Ellena and Carolin ate theirs with their hands wrapped in their sleeves. It may have been a hot day but the lolly pops were too cold to touch!

Upon leaving Possibly Azqueta (if indeed it was) we began climbing to the highest point of the day – Monjardin, 690 metres above sea level.

According to my journal, Ellena and Carolin’s pace today was better than mine over the first few days. This doesn’t mean that we walked fast but rather than we walked without stopping and starting, which I had done a lot of when walking by myself. There is more good news. I recorded in my journal that today my dodgy right leg (i.e. thigh) was only ‘tender’ rather than sore. It would be a few more days, though, until I could walk without using ibuprofen.

Later on, and in the middle of nowhere, we came across another van-bar. This one was a but more developed than the van-bar I had come across on the way to Zubiri for it not only had more seating but also a covered area as well. There were plenty of pilgrims sitting around, including an Englishman – a relative rarity on this Camino – named Tony who Ellena and Carolin already knew and I would get to know.

That afternoon, Ellena started walking ahead of us. She got further… and further… and further ahead until finally, there was no sight of her. No problem, I thought, we’ll meet her in Los Arcos, which we were now approaching.

Except, we didn’t. Carolin and I arrived in the town and there was no sight of her. What to do? Well, we eventually made our way to the municipal albergue where we found her. I can’t remember if we got lucky or if Carolin knew that Ellena would be there.

That evening, we relaxed outside the albergue, among a neat collection of sculptures (see right) and ate pizza from a local shop. I chatted with a man from Barcelona about this and that and nearly left my phone on a bench. Later, Ellena and Carolin would eat with other pilgrims. By then, I was happy simply to rest and let sleep carry me into the next day. It would not arrive, though, without upset and a visit from the police…