I should probably clarify something from yesterday's entry: The 'girls' I shared the room with turned out to spend most of their time comparing their various ailments and looking at pictures of their grandchildren. Not a lot in the way of interesting company there.
On Hills
I thought that when I'd crossed the Pyrenees I had left the hills behind me. I should have paid more attention to the topographic map. Navarra is VERY hilly and it seems that the small roads and paths I am taking were planned to go over every one! Probably a legacy of the time when the villages were built on the tops of hills for defensive reasons.
I've also discovered that many sections of road that look like they are going downhill are really going 'less uphill'.
I thought of Joseph often today. Not 'the' Joseph who perhaps other pilgrims are thinking about, but his namesake who I had met in Pamplona. When we had discussed the relative merits of walking and riding (he did both) he noted that in Germany they say that the bike riders always look angry or like they've been fighting when they get to the top of a hill whereas the walkers look happy. So whenever I got to the top of a hill, if I spotted walkers I always tried to look like I'd just had a good time.
Actually, the gorgeous view that often greeted me at high points was enough to bring a smile.
Wind. Lots of it and always in the wrong direction. On the flat it was either coming straight towards me, or from the side. I'm not sure which was worse. An Italian pair of bikers (or is that a pair of Italian bikers?) commented "the wind is not helping" (these Italian bikers had some English, unlike yesterday's group). I found it difficult to sympathize with them since they were riding with no packs or bags, having arranged to have their luggage sent ahead each day (to pre-booked accommodation).
A banana for breakfast this morning. Then 8km to Estella for the first café con leche and a croissant. The whole way in the rain. Coming out of the bar I was greeted by sunshine. But no sooner had I captured the moment 'on film' (what's the right expression now that it's all digital I wonder?) and the rain returned, staying with me until Los Arcos, 20km further on. Clearly it was time for another café con leche. And lo and behold it worked! The rest of the day there was sun (and cold wind) and I have the bike shorts tan to prove it.
Leaving Estella I made a few hundred metre detour up a dirt track to see if the famous 'wine fountain' was really true. And there it was, with two taps: one labelled 'agua' and the other 'vino'. I briefly thought of filling my water bottle, but thought better of it and made do with a couple of caps full. I didn't want to be drinking and riding after all!
By about 15:30 I arrived in Logroño, after getting my stamp at the little 'checkpoint' by Felisha who has apparently been there for many years. Since this is a large town and is a well established waypoint on the Camino, the first three hostels were predictably full (probably booked by Italian bikers with no luggage). I finally found a place with space, a bit out of town and run by an older woman whose main philosophy seems to be 'tranquilo' which is not a bad way to deal with a bunch of tired pilgrims all wanting a bed and a shower.
40 beds in one space. One bathroom (with three showers). Boys and girls mixed, backpacks and washing everywhere, and it all works just fine.
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