Day 6: No Plan…..

05 April 2022

Uterga to Estella (km 83 to km 112)

Today we had a wonderful and surprising day on The Way, having set out with no plans just to see where the Camino would take us.

We stepped out into a crisp day with clear blue skies, the town in shadow but the rising sun illuminating the tops of the taller buildings. It was a very cold morning, the type that follows a night with no cloud cover, but which blossoms into a wonderful day once the sun has had some time to do its magic.

Our albergue did not have any breakfast options beyond the vending machines standing in the beer garden, offering either bandages for damaged feet, or icy cold Coke. Not being what we had in mind to start the day, we headed off, knowing that the large town of Puente la Reina was only six kilometres away, and two smaller villages in-between. We would find something to eat within the next hour or so.

For the first time, we were setting out without an accommodation booking or a firm idea of where we were going to finish up this evening.

Our journey to date has been influenced by our first Camino experience in 2019. That year, it had been our intention to start each day without any firm plans, walk until we felt we felt we wanted to stop, and then stay at the nearest convenient albergue.

However, in practice, we quickly found that there were many pilgrims on the trail and that accommodation in the locations we were hoping to stay was often full. This was particularly the case on the early stages of the trail where accommodation seemed to be stretched by the number of pilgrims passing through.

This meant we could not stay at towns that we hoped to see, including Pamplona. Sometimes, it was necessary to take a taxi to another town with beds, and in doing so we also missed opportunities to get to know the people we had met on the trail. It wasn’t a disaster, but we had missed things we had looked forward to.

Later that journey we started booking accommodation if we detected things were getting busy and beds might be scarce. It was a matter of practicality. Leo was just twelve at the time and we were amongst the slowest travellers on the trail, arriving into destinations well after most others. We did not have the capacity to simply keep walking to the next town at the end of a day if there were no beds left.

The topic of booking accommodation gives rise to many passionate perspectives amongst pilgrims. For the purist tribe, booking is against the spirit of freedom they seek on the Camino. It requires pilgrims to pre-determine where they will stay and takes away opportunities that may suddenly pop-up during the day – a pretty town, remaining with new friends stopping in another town etc.

For others, a booking provides the certainty of a bed at the end of the day and allows them to focus on being in the moment and experience each step and every detail of their surroundings, without the distraction of accommodation concerns. For some of this tribe, simply making a booking the night before is enough. For the so-called ‘spreadsheet travellers’, mental comfort comes from pre-planning and booking all accommodation for the entire journey.

And then there are the hybrid travellers. Pilgrims who prefer not to book, but depart at 6am, 5am or even earlier to make sure they arrive at their destination early enough to get a bed. A sort of freedom, but with strings attached.

After 2019, Leo and I were firmly in the booking tribe. For us, avoiding unnecessary distractions and stress was why we had come to Spain.

For our 2022 Camino, we had arrived early in the season, hoping to find the trail a little quieter, and we had pre-booked our accommodation for the first few days. As a result we experienced places we had missed previously, such as Zubiri and Pamplona. We had also been able to enjoy early social gatherings that formed our friendships with other pilgrims – the big dinner gathering in Zubiri being a great example.

But today, we were going to live on the edge and go commando, Camino style.

The trail ahead had quite a few potential stop opportunities, with towns of varying sizes having albergues or hostels every four or five kilometres. However, it was unclear exactly what was available as some accommodation establishments did not appear to be open.

It looked like it was going to be a fantastic day for walking, with little risk of needing to shelter from bad weather and so we thought we would just go and have a look for ourselves.

For the first part of our day, the Way followed a watercourse along a valley of different character to yesterdays landscape. The range of hills we had crossed at Alto del Perdón provided shelter from the cold Northerly winds that had powered the ridge-top wind turbines. The open verdant green grain crops were now joined by orderly groves of almond trees and increasing numbers of trellised vineyards with surrounding taller trees protecting them.

The undulating valley floor had many gullies and ridges that reduced the visibility of the trail ahead, but the wide open sky remained above us as we walked. It was very still, the only noise being the crunch, crunch, crunch of our footsteps on the gravel pathway, the sharp sounds almost like those of ice in the very cold conditions. However, It did not take long to find a town with a warm, open bar. We enjoyed ‘first breakfasts’ of coffee and pastries in Obanos where the rising sun was illuminating the town’s pretty church and presenting it in its best light.

With something warm now in our stomachs, we were joined by Emma, our friend from Utrecht, and continued onwards, chatting and in good spirits. As is often the case, the kilometres seemed to disappear without effort as we talked, and soon we found ourselves entering the historic Camino town of Puente la Reina, The Queen’s Bridge.

On the approaches, we located the hotel where our forwarded Credentials were to be left for us to collect, and they were indeed waiting for us at Reception.  Relief!  We showered the manager with our thanks, his cringing smile suggesting our Spanish pronunciation still had a little way to go, before buying a couple of drinks in gratitude and following the trail into the famous medieval town.

Earlier today, I realised that misplacing our credentials had been no mere fluke or stroke of luck. While getting dressed I discovered I had also misplaced my beanie and gloves somewhere. Amazing. It was clear I possessed a rare and special gift. Forgetfulness was my superpower! (If only I could remember how I did it)

Truth be known, I was not surprised about the disappearance of the beanie. I had lost a couple of them last Camino, tending to take them off when stopping, and leaving them behind on the table. This had resulted in a series of messages being passed along the Camino telegraph that various people were hoping to return my hats.

I had accepted long ago the that losing beanies is a personal trait that I would simply have to learn to live with. Sort of like always typing a lower case ‘j’ instead of uppercase one when typing my name on a keyboard. Beyond the powers of change.  Losing my gloves however, was a tour de force even by my own lofty standards.

Fortunately, as we walked along the historic main street of the old town and I was remembering what I had forgotten, an outdoor store revealed itself with perfect timing.  Being someone who likes to be prepared, I had a few euros in the budget for replacing lost beanies. and I soon had replacements clipped inside my pack.

As we continued down the Casa Mayor, lined each side with tall medieval buildings, we came to the town’s cathedral. The gates in the wrought iron fence were open and so we entered, pushed open the building’s heavy dark timber doors and stepped inside.

It was cool and quiet. Unlike many Romanesque cathedrals, it was not overly dark, the interior lit by small, high-level windows. It had the appearance and aura of a place that has been continuously used, rather than preserved just for special occasions. The plastered walls were covered with spiderwebs of fine cracks and the interior had the patina of centuries of candle smoke and incense.

Finding that we were completely alone, Leo moved to the centre of the tall quiet space and began to sing.

Leo has always had a love of song. When younger he had been a soprano chorister in a cathedral choir, dedicating up to 15 hours a week to rehearsals and performances. Now, coming to terms with a deeper voice, he sings in a variety of choirs, and as a soloist. Our home is often resonating to the sound of Leo singing his heart out.

Song had also been an important part of our first Camino in 2019. During that journey Leo had befriended Raphaela from Germany. Almost the same age, and also a singer, Raphaela and Leo became well-known as the two young singing children by other pilgrims.

It had been a very special connection. So much so that, after leaving the Camino to go back to school following two weeks of walking, Raphaela and her mother Ruth returned weeks later to surprise Leo and accompany us for the last days of our journey into Santiago. The renewed sounds of their singing as we walked were a wonderful way to finish our Camino in 2019.

Our current Camino was also shaping up to be a journey filled with song. Leo was due to audition for a singing role in Mamma Mia The Musical the day after his return home from the Camino, and he intended to practice the songs as we travelled. Fortunately I am a fan of ABBA – a dark secret of the type only shared on the Camino.

Now, in the cathedral, Leo’s voice effortlessly filled the large space, its acoustics enhancing his song’s solemn tune, the last notes resonating long after he had finished. It was a beautiful and atmospheric place to experience music.

Not wanting to lose the opportunity, I asked Emma and Leo to sing a duet. Leo had discovered a kindred spirit in Emma, who is a choral singer and a choir director as well. Like Leo, she enjoys impromptu opportunities to sing with others and the two had been singing and harmonising together as we travelled.

They chose a haunting Nordic song that Emma had been teaching Leo. Each word was precisely captured by the clear acoustics of the space, Emma’s high, penetrating soprano a perfect counterpoint for Leo’s deep, earthy bass. They finished and stayed still, letting the sound dissipate to a peaceful silence. It was a very special highlight.  I was lucky enough to capture the songs on my phone – having not forgotten it yet.

We walked into the heart of the beautiful town and bought ourselves lunch from a café with seats in a pretty sun-filled plaza. By now, the sun was starting to generate some real heat and as we rested we peeled off our jackets and dug our brimmed hats out from the bottom of our packs.

Fed and watered we departed town via the beautiful Pons Regine (Queens Bridge) from which the town takes its name. Believed to have been constructed in the 11th Century at the insistence of the Reina Mayor (Greater Queen) to assist pilgrims cross the Rio Arga, it is now one of the Camino’s most symbolic landmarks.

We soon found ourselves climbing out of the valley we had been following all morning, and at the top we paused in the shade to consider our plans for the rest of the day.

Emma had been struggling with her boots and her intention was for a short day on the trail. She had made a booking at an albergue in the small town of Cirauqui just a few kilometres ahead.

I remembered Cirauqui as a very pretty town and even though it would mean a shorter day’s distance than we had envisaged, it might be nice opportunity to stop there and look around. When we called to make a booking however, the albergue owner was very apologetic. The water supply had failed and now he would not be able to accept any guests. Purely by chance he asked if we knew a pilgrim named Emma as he needed to let her know that she could not stay, we promised to pass on the message.

The Camino Ninja App had proven to be very useful, giving up-to-date status information of the accommodation in each town. It was now showing that beyond the single albergue in Cirauqui, there was nothing else open for at least another 16km. It seemed that a number of albergues had not yet come out of post-pandemic hibernation and this had created an extended stretch with nowhere to stay.

For us this news was a setback, for Emma it was a big blow. The distance to the next open albergue was beyond what her feet could manage. A quick search soon found a local bus service she could take from Cirauqui to Estella, where accommodation would be assured. She had a comfortable amount of time to get to the bus stop.

We knew that some of our other friends would be staying in Estella tonight as it was a major stage destination and even though the day was well advanced, Leo and I decided that we would use the beautiful weather to walk the remaining 20km or so to get there – another four or five hours on the trail.

With an ambitious objective now set, Leo and I wished Emma a Buen Camino for the afternoon and set off.

For the rest of the day, The Way led us through a landscape of rolling hills and gullies decorated with crops, vineyards and trees, all looking vibrant under the bright sun and vivid blue sky.

We passed through Cirauqui, one of my fondest visual memories of 2019. Perched on a hilltop, the Camino takes travellers up the pretty town’s narrow medieval streets framed between tall stone houses and other buildings. One of my favourite Camino scenes is a street so steep the footpaths are flights of steps and we paused to take a few photos.

Departing Cirauqui and descending the hill, the Way takes travellers on the unearthed remains of a medieval cobblestone road and bridge. This is widely referred to as the Roman Road, although this attribution is highly contested by historians. One thing that was beyond doubt was that the roadway had been cleaned and renovated since last time. The overhanging vegetation had been removed and the uneven surfaces filled in, making it both more scenic and friendly for travellers to use. We were getting a growing sense that the Camino had received some TLC during the pandemic whilst pilgrims were away.

We also passed the Olive Gard-Zen. It is a rest stop for pilgrims with benches and hammocks created over several years in an olive grove by Yvan, a young peaceful soul. A donativo stand has a selection of fresh fruit, cold drinks and other snacks for passing pilgrims – take what you need and pay what you can.

We immediately recognised Yvan and had a quick chat. He had been away during the pandemic but had returned, looking forward to welcoming pilgrims back to The Way in the Holy Year. We made a donation, selected a cool drink and stamped our credentials before wishing him well and continuing.

We learned later that another of our friends, Tess from France, who had started at the same town as us this morning and was carrying a large backpack with a tent, decided to camp in the olive grove rather than try and walk to Estella. Apparently it was fun, but freezing cold.

Approaching the town of Lorca, we were pleasantly surprised to come across a little ray of sunshine –  Kathrine. Her perpetual good humour could not conceal that she was not having a comfortable day. Starting the day in boots, her feet had become so painful she had resorted to wearing her flip-flops and was walking very gingerly. We knew that the bus service that Emma was catching to Estella also ran through Lorca and Kathrine decided that this was probably also a good solution for her. She had about 30 minutes to get to the stop so it seemed like a workable plan. We wished her luck, agreed to meet up for dinner, and continued onwards.

For the last two hours we walked through a beautiful Spring afternoon, the sun getting lower in the sky as we followed the-now wide white gravel pathway that ducked and weaved through a number of tunnels and underpasses. Finally, as the sun began sliding behind the nearby hills we found ourselves following the path alongside the river into Estella.

It had been a big day on the trail – over 32kms in total according to Señor Strava, our longest distance ever on the Camino. We felt sore but were happy and somewhat surprised that we had completed the challenging walk without too much trouble. We had also made surprisingly good time by our standards, taking just over four hours to complete the last 22 kilometres.

The discomfort in our shoes suggested we had probably given ourselves a couple of blisters on our heels, but nothing debilitating. A gentle reminder that we should have stopped and changed our sweaty socks, or at least attended to our feet for a few minutes at some point.

As we walked in we received messages that Emma and Kathrine had both connected with the bus and made it as well.

It was late in the afternoon and we began looking for accommodation as soon as we entered the town. At the first option, a hostel, we walked past a tour bus to get to the front door. The contents of the bus, comprising many pieces of branded luxury luggage, were being moved inside by the driver. The manager regretfully advised that they had been booked out by a Korean walking group and had no vacancies.

Our next stop was the large municipal albergue where we had stayed previously. We entered and listened as the hospitalero tried to bridge a language gap and explain to the group of pilgrims in front of us that here too was completo – full. We didn’t need to be told twice and stepped outside where it was quickly getting cool now that the sun was hidden.

Sensing it was a busy night in town, we decided to skip the lower cost albergue options which were probably completely full by now and try a hostel. We soon had success – the last two beds. It was a funky place just a couple of minutes away with a wonderful host and dormitories featuring sleeping cubicles instead of bunks. We had not experienced these before, but they did look like they would give more privacy and contain sleeping noises a little more as well. We were looking forward to giving them a try.

As we each unpacked, Leo discovered that he did not have his sleeping bag with him – it was not in his backpack, or mine. Our immediate panic quickly subsided – it was the Camino, we would work it out.  I lent him mine knowing the room would probably be heated during the night and that I could use the silk sleeping bag liner I was also carrying. I was filled with a sense of warm parental pride – his ability to lose things was taking after his Dad’s.

We quickly telephoned our last albergue, on the assumption the sleeping bag had not been packed in the morning, but this turned out to not be the case, it was not there.

Lost for other ideas in the short term, we showered in the fabulous bathrooms and met up with Kathrine in the town’s main plaza for dinner. We enjoyed a fun-filled meal, selecting dishes from the standard a la carte menu rather than a pilgrim meal, and exchanged details of our respective days’ adventures. The night was quickly becoming very cold under the clear sky and eventually we had to call dinner to a close and seek the warmth of our accommodation. Making our way back to our hostel through the pretty town, we briefly caught up with a few other friends enjoying a nightcap before hitting our beds for the night.

Our day without plans had been a good day. We had recovered our credentials through the kindness of the locals, and the weather had been beautiful. Leo was even showing some hints of sunburn from the late afternoon sun. We had passed several pretty and memorable landmarks, I had been blessed to witness some beautiful singing and had even discovered a latent superpower. We had ended the day in a pretty town, filled with friends, and staying in nice hostel with very friendly hosts.

We had again been a little caught out by facilities on The Way not being open – possibly being closed now permanently or not yet ready to re-open for the season. The potential stress this might have caused was offset by the fact that we now knew we could walk a good distance if necessity called. It was something that might need a little consideration when setting out each day.

Life on The Way was good. As we fell asleep in our cubicles we remembered that tomorrow morning we would be visiting one of Leo’s favourite Camino destinations.

Accommodation: Albergue Ágora Hostel, Estella

Nothing but the icy crunch, crunch of our feet

Obanos’ church illuminated by the morning sun

Our credentials – safely recovered

Iglesia de Santiago cathedral at Puente la Reina

– perfect for a solo hymn

and a memorable duet with Emma

Leo rediscovers his love of boiled eggs and salt as a trail food

Breaking out the sun hats in Puente la Reina after second breakfasts

Walking through the beautiful old town

and onto its famous bridge

Pons Regine ‘Queens Bridge’, built by a Queen for pilgrims to cross the Rio Arga – one of the big obstacles on the route in the Middle Ages.

Kissed by the sun

Walking, laughing and singing with Emma

The one big climb for the day – leaving the morning’s valley

On the way on The Way – setting out for Estella late in the day

A stunning day for walking

We were still getting used to seeing contrails in the sky again after two years of near-empty skies in our country.

Approaching Cirauqui

where the streets have flowers,

and steps! One of my favourite Camino visual memories

“What have the Romans ever done for us?” – thoughts of Monty Python as we travel the ‘Roman Road’ – now looking resplendent after some TLC

a complementary Roman nose

puente romano – the remains of the ‘Roman Bridge’ – previously infamous for injuries – now far more pilgrim friendly

puente medieval – a later era medieval bridge further down the trail

Another section of the ‘Roman Road’

Home to the Olive Gard-Zen – an oasis under construction for several years in the adjacent olive grove

Only on The Camino

Surprises around every bend – a modern Aqueduct creates a striking sculpture

The pathway led us through several tunnels and underpasses

Approaching Lorca

Our accommodation in Lorca from 2019 – still in hibernation

Destination Estella – nestling in the shadow of the distant hill ahead

Another tunnel

Hard to choose which photo – went with both

The last underpass before Estella

The first red poppy of our journey

Getting close

Estella at last – quickly getting cold after the sun had gone

Home for the night

A very groovy and welcoming place

Our sleeping cubicles

The day according to Señor Strava

All the hill top towns made it a lumpy kind of day