Day eight - Casa Mari - 29k

Random Roundabout Art

Never a dull moment
In Spain
and

Ruined Monastery in Estella.

The Famous Wine Fountain of Irache - Attached to the Winery this fountain offers the Pilgrim the traditional Water and as much within reason (gotta bottle handy Jess and Cathy?) of the Gorgeous (at what o'clock?) Wine... ;)

Painfully walking and having to slow down even more because of pain in the hip opposite my bad knee, progressing to Los Arcos. Getting there to find a huge Scandinavian arriving soon after with massively swollen ankles. I try to persuade him that along with the Ibuprofen I’ve given him, he’s going to need to rest until the swelling has gone right down, unfortunately he’s another one in a long line of people with a scheduled departure date at the end of their Camino, I just had a date I’d like to be at Santiago by. I’m greeted by the germans and Astrid who decide to stay here for the night so I decide to make a break and carry on to Torres del Rio. Walking is not a chore as the way that the landscape changes on either side of you, constantly keeps you engaged and it’s even got to the point where I’m in a rhythm of sorts so I make it there with Shambling long haired sandal man and another German guy. Who arrives later on but Scandinavian guy and an old Italian gentleman, I can’t believe he’s walked another 8k what a glutton for punishment, he tells me that his personal trainer has already warned him that if he carries on he may not be able to walk in later life. Even that does nothing to dampen his enthusiasm for completing what he sees as a physical challenge, the other aspects seemingly ignored, lessons available are not learned. I pass on the tip of bathing ones feet in cold water at the end of the day and he proceeds to spill it everywhere in the dorm room because his ankles and feet are so big that they displace most of the water.

Sitting outside on the upper terrace after doing my housekeeping of washing myself and today’s t shirt, shirt, socks and pants now hanging out in the scorching afternoon sun, I offer Shambling long haired moustachioed sandal wearing guy a beer. His name is Stephen and he’s from Kentucky. He teaches me about the American College system, Fraternities, college Basketball, Kentuckians’ lack of teeth and the reason for his own perfect false nashers, the Bourbon trail which seems to me like the best reason for visiting the U.S. and we discuss Kerouac’s on the Road along with a recommendation to read Dharma Bums. A large group of even larger cyclists arrives, their support camper van parked outside the Refugio. They take over the place while we’re catching rays and sipping cans of beer and chewing the fat, later after a trip to a bar goes horribly wrong in that we’re hobbling around looking for it and when we do there’s not much in the way of a welcome. The German guy is at the bar with another pilgrim. Stephen doesn’t fancy it and I leave after a quick beer, there is a sword and other vicious looking weapons including a mace on the wall and this is definitely the village ‘local’, if you mess up they’ll grab those weapons and ensure they need a good clean and polish afterwards is my guess.


Getting back to the Casa Mari I find that there’s a party in the offing, I’ve eaten but they are trying to offer us wine and what looks like a whole cured ham leg screwed to some kind of wooden rack. Stephen’s taken under their wing and he’s stuffed in moments as an old woman appears as if by magic and starts cooking dangerous looking sausages. It transpires that they’ve been offering Stephen first goes on everything, unfortunately it seems to involve the biggest guy shouting to his friends to watch as they shout “John Wayne!” as he does so. Stephen becomes paranoid that he’s been poisoned and constantly reappears before going back for more helpings, I can’t help playing into his fears for a while but try to reassure him that if it was they’d all be in trouble in the morning when I found him dead from tainted ham. It’s getting late and they’re still going for it, I was very tempted to enjoy the cultural exchange but resigned myself to trying to get some sleep.