During the second day walking from Roncesvalles to Larrasoana, I had increasingly come to enjoy the rhythm of walking and the opportunity that the solitude of the Camino afforded for reflection and listening to God. I had enjoyed the sights and sounds of Pamplona and the good food and wine, but I was eager now to leave the city behind and get back to walking. I had noticed though, towards the end of the previous day walking around Pamplona, that my right tibia had started to become sore. Clearly I was starting to suffer from shin splints or medial tibial stress syndrome caused by overwork of the extensor muscles in the area due to the fact that I have quite flat feet and over-pronate when walking, increasing the work that these muscles have to do. Rather stupidly I had decided not to bring my orthotics as I had felt that I did not need them in my walking boots.
Meanwhile Ben, in addition to his purchase of boots the previous day, had bought a hiking pole and a sun hat and now at last looked like a proper pilgrim! The journey for the day ahead involved a 21.5 km hike over Alto del Perdon hill (790m) and then a long descent back in the valley of the rio Arga to Puente La Reina.
We arose just before 6.00am and packed under torchlight. Our sleep during the night had been disturbed by a sudden display of fireworks close by at 12.30, which I had gone into the garden to watch. We didn't find out the reason for them, but they were very loud! Some local nuns who come to my clinic for treatment had presented me with a very nice LED torch before my journey had begun and I was glad of it as I packed.
We had breakfast of bread jam and coffee in a cafe just down the village, which opens early especially for pilgrims and then set off in earnest. Very quickly, after walking through a small housing estate we found ourselves leaving the last vestiges of Pamplona's suburbs behind and walking out into a landscape of wide fields of stubble and desiccated sunflowers, which had gone to seed and were very gently rustling in a light breeze. There was a pre-dawn mist hanging over the fields and it was chilly, but it was so good to be walking in the countryside again after two days in the city!
Ben and Matt were talking to an Italian woman and gradually I found myself walking on ahead. In fact as it turned out I wouldn't see them again for twelve hours, but I didn't mind; I welcomed the seclusion and found myself praying and thinking a lot about my Dad. In the distance was the Alto del Perdon forming a ridge across the skyline and I began thinking of the time I had spent sitting by my Dad's bedside a few weeks earlier, as he was dying of cancer. He had asked me to read Psalm 121; a favourite of his, and also one of the Songs of Ascents - one of the Psalms the ancient Jews would use when going up to Jerusalem on pilgrimage for one of the great festivals prescribed in the Torah. It seemed so appropriate now as I walked and I began reciting it and meditating on it:
"I lift my eyes to the hills-
where does my help come?
My help comes from The Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip-
he who watches over you will not slumber:
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you-
The Lord is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm-
he will watch over your life;
The Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and for evermore.
I was surprised to find myself weeping as I thought of my Dad and all that had transpired over the previous few weeks and I must have looked quite a sight; limping along with my sore leg, the tears flowing, but luckily I was alone with no-one but the Lord to keep me company and they weren't bitter tears; but tears of healing and thankfulness for all that my Dad had meant to me and all that God was doing in my life. Grief strangely mixed with a deep sense of peace and release.
The area I was walking across was the scene of Charlemagne's defeat of a Muslim army led by Aigolando in the 8th Century. I soon reached the village of Zariquiegui; the sun had risen well into the sky by now and was kissing the golden stonework of St Andrew's church and setting it on fire in the crisp morning light.
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| Walking towards Alto del Perdon |
The area I was walking across was the scene of Charlemagne's defeat of a Muslim army led by Aigolando in the 8th Century. I soon reached the village of Zariquiegui; the sun had risen well into the sky by now and was kissing the golden stonework of St Andrew's church and setting it on fire in the crisp morning light.
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| St Andrew's church |
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| Camino scallop & stars on St Andrew's |
The summit itself has become recently famous as it is the site of a wrought iron monument representing medieval pilgrims being guided by the stars of the Milky Way. The monument featured in the Hollywood film "The Way" with Martin Sheen and portrayed a grieving father who had lost his adult son and walked the Camino to find experience healing.
At the summit I asked an Australian woman to take a photograph of me by the monument. There was a steep stony descent down the other side of the hill and she accompanied me chatting as I negotiated the path with my sore shin. I find walking poles very useful for climbing steep hills; they very efficiently allow you to use your upper body strength to assist in the climb. However I do not like using them when going downhill as I find they get in the way and become a nuisance, so I was walking downhill holding my walking stick and the Australian lady took a great interest in it and asked to borrow it for a while as she didn't have one. Our conversation ranged over a wide variety of subjects; her Irish ancestors; how her priest had intensely disliked Margaret Thatcher so much that he had emigrated from Glasgow to Australia; the problem of keeping Cockatoos off her fruit bushes. This continued for some distance and it gradually became clear to me that she liked my stick a lot and wasn't in a hurry to return it, even though we were now on flatter terrain and I was obviously limping! Finally she announced that she needed the toilet and would need to go behind a bush, but that she would hold on to my stick if I didn't mind? I explained firmly that I did mind and finally managed to extricate it from her and walk on as quickly as possible!
At the village of Uterga the local men were roasting harvested peppers in a large mesh cylinder over an open flame whilst their lady folk prepared them in olive oil and bottled them. Here in the village I managed to say goodbye to the Australian lady, who had caught up with me again and wanted me to dress her foot as she had a small blister; she was heading straight on along the main Camino route, whereas I was taking a 2.5km detour to the left to visit the Romanesque 12th Century church of Santa Maria de Eunate. The detour took me across another landscape of expansive empty fields and I had to ask directions from a Spanish woman in her 20's at a crossroads, where unusually, I could not find a Camino direction sign. I was surprised to see this young woman; clearly out walking for exercise in what I considered to be the middle of nowhere and wearing shorts and a bikini top, in the increasingly hot sun whilst I walked along with my sunhat, indian cotton scarf and plastered in suncream! I noted a few times on the Camino that local women were out walking in secluded and remote locations and obviously felt quite safe. I was glad about this and wondered if women in the UK or Ireland would feel so safe walking in such remote locations alone?
After about 40 minutes or so, having passed a small hermitage, I reached the church at Eunate. It was well worth the detour! Probably built by the Knights Templar who once defended pilgrims from 1142 until they were suppressed by the Papacy in 1307, the church is an unusual irregular octagonal shape (probably based on the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem) with a wonderful freestanding colonnade around the outside made up of twin pillars decorated with grotesque beasts and floral motifs. The church may have been a burial place for pilgrims.
The name of Eunate comes from the Basque language; Onate or Unate probably meant something like 'the good door" or possibly "the hundred doors" referring to the portico around the outside. Eunate was also the point at which the Camino Aragones from Somport joined the Camino Frances. Hopefully some day I can walk that section too!
I left my backpack at the doorway and stepped into the tranquil interior, which was largely unadorned apart from the Romanesque stonework. A man aged in his thirties was sitting silently meditating with his hands placed palms down on his thighs. Above me I studied the irregularly placed eight ribs of the vault which showed a Muslim influence and reminded me of the domed roof of Turkish Baths I once visited in Budapest. I sat for quite some time enjoying the peace and then walked around the outside of the building enjoying the carved details on the pillar capitals. The caretaker of the church who lived in the adjoining house came to sweep the floor and I obtained a sello before setting out again towards Obanos to rejoin the main Camino route.
At Obanos I gratefully stepped out of the heat of the sun into a bar and had a beer and a dish of pimentos and olives. The church in Obanos only dated from 1912, but it preserved an earlier Romanesque portal arch. Descending the hill from the town, it was only a short walk to Puente La Reina where I booked into the Albergue run by the Padres Reparadores. Due to the heat and my sore leg I was feeling pretty exhausted and relieved to see the albergue. It had taken me 6 hours and 35 minutes and another French pilgrim smiled at me as I limped up to the albergue door and said "...and this is only the beginning!"
I showered and washed my clothes and soon revived. Whilst I was performing these chores, Ben and Matt texted me and informed me that they had walked on to albergue Santiago Apostol and were staying there as there was a swimming pool!! I left them to their swim and decided to investigate Puente La Reina. The town according to John Brierley, has a population of about 2,000 and still largely adheres to the grid of streets laid out in medieval times. The name which in English means Queen's Bridge refers to the magnificent arched bridge over the rio Arga which is named after Dona Mayor, wife of Sancho III (1000 - 1035) who sponsored its construction to help pilgrims as they travelled from Pamplona to Estella.
I visited the Iglesia del Crucifijo - just across the street from the albergue. Although it had a Baroque tower (with weeds hanging from it picturesquely) the church is actually much older; it was built by the Knights Templar but after they were suppressed the Knights of St John took it over and constructed a second aisle and apse. The church is named after a magnificent and unusual "Y" shaped wooden carving of the crucifixion which was donated by German pilgrims in the 14th Century. Although I am not a fan of religious statues in general, I found this one extremely powerful and full of pathos and spent some time examining it and sitting in the church. Despite being a pre-renaissance carving I found the exquisite detail and humanity of the carving compelling and I could not but fail to be drawn into meditating on the Christ's sacrifice on the cross for myself and mankind.
Further down the Calle Mayor was the Iglesia de Santiago which had a multi-lobed main portal showing Mozarab (Christians who lived under Muslim rule in Medieval Spain) architectural influence. Inside the large church was an elaborate gilded 18th Century retable and a gilded 14th Century statue of St James - Santiago Peregrino Beltaxa.
No one came into the church the whole time I was there, so I spent a considerable time sitting and praying and enjoying the cool interior and all prevading silence, save for the occasional creak of expanding ancient wood work. I was also fascinated by the positioning of two large Chinese vases on shelves on either side of the altar and wondered about their history and how they came to be there?
Leaving the church I wandered over the bridge, but my leg was so sore that I decided to rest and have a beer whilst sitting outside a bar on Calle Mayor and sketch the Baroque tower of Iglesia de Santiago.
At 8pm Matt and Ben joined me and we had a pilgrim menu and chatted to a Swedish woman who was walking the Camino to celebrate her 60th birthday. I had an excellent chicken paella and then made my way home to the albergue ready for sleep and hoping my right shin would feel better in the morning.
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| Looking back: the Pyrenees and Pamplona behind Zariquiegui |
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| Wind farm on Alto del Perdon |
At the summit I asked an Australian woman to take a photograph of me by the monument. There was a steep stony descent down the other side of the hill and she accompanied me chatting as I negotiated the path with my sore shin. I find walking poles very useful for climbing steep hills; they very efficiently allow you to use your upper body strength to assist in the climb. However I do not like using them when going downhill as I find they get in the way and become a nuisance, so I was walking downhill holding my walking stick and the Australian lady took a great interest in it and asked to borrow it for a while as she didn't have one. Our conversation ranged over a wide variety of subjects; her Irish ancestors; how her priest had intensely disliked Margaret Thatcher so much that he had emigrated from Glasgow to Australia; the problem of keeping Cockatoos off her fruit bushes. This continued for some distance and it gradually became clear to me that she liked my stick a lot and wasn't in a hurry to return it, even though we were now on flatter terrain and I was obviously limping! Finally she announced that she needed the toilet and would need to go behind a bush, but that she would hold on to my stick if I didn't mind? I explained firmly that I did mind and finally managed to extricate it from her and walk on as quickly as possible!
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| Preparing pimentos at Uterga |
At the village of Uterga the local men were roasting harvested peppers in a large mesh cylinder over an open flame whilst their lady folk prepared them in olive oil and bottled them. Here in the village I managed to say goodbye to the Australian lady, who had caught up with me again and wanted me to dress her foot as she had a small blister; she was heading straight on along the main Camino route, whereas I was taking a 2.5km detour to the left to visit the Romanesque 12th Century church of Santa Maria de Eunate. The detour took me across another landscape of expansive empty fields and I had to ask directions from a Spanish woman in her 20's at a crossroads, where unusually, I could not find a Camino direction sign. I was surprised to see this young woman; clearly out walking for exercise in what I considered to be the middle of nowhere and wearing shorts and a bikini top, in the increasingly hot sun whilst I walked along with my sunhat, indian cotton scarf and plastered in suncream! I noted a few times on the Camino that local women were out walking in secluded and remote locations and obviously felt quite safe. I was glad about this and wondered if women in the UK or Ireland would feel so safe walking in such remote locations alone?
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| Santa Maria de Eunate |
After about 40 minutes or so, having passed a small hermitage, I reached the church at Eunate. It was well worth the detour! Probably built by the Knights Templar who once defended pilgrims from 1142 until they were suppressed by the Papacy in 1307, the church is an unusual irregular octagonal shape (probably based on the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem) with a wonderful freestanding colonnade around the outside made up of twin pillars decorated with grotesque beasts and floral motifs. The church may have been a burial place for pilgrims.
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| Grotesque pillar capitals on Eunate portico |
I left my backpack at the doorway and stepped into the tranquil interior, which was largely unadorned apart from the Romanesque stonework. A man aged in his thirties was sitting silently meditating with his hands placed palms down on his thighs. Above me I studied the irregularly placed eight ribs of the vault which showed a Muslim influence and reminded me of the domed roof of Turkish Baths I once visited in Budapest. I sat for quite some time enjoying the peace and then walked around the outside of the building enjoying the carved details on the pillar capitals. The caretaker of the church who lived in the adjoining house came to sweep the floor and I obtained a sello before setting out again towards Obanos to rejoin the main Camino route.
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| The apse at Eunate |
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| Arab influenced vaulting |
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| Last look at Eunate |
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| Camino approaching Obanos |
I showered and washed my clothes and soon revived. Whilst I was performing these chores, Ben and Matt texted me and informed me that they had walked on to albergue Santiago Apostol and were staying there as there was a swimming pool!! I left them to their swim and decided to investigate Puente La Reina. The town according to John Brierley, has a population of about 2,000 and still largely adheres to the grid of streets laid out in medieval times. The name which in English means Queen's Bridge refers to the magnificent arched bridge over the rio Arga which is named after Dona Mayor, wife of Sancho III (1000 - 1035) who sponsored its construction to help pilgrims as they travelled from Pamplona to Estella.
I visited the Iglesia del Crucifijo - just across the street from the albergue. Although it had a Baroque tower (with weeds hanging from it picturesquely) the church is actually much older; it was built by the Knights Templar but after they were suppressed the Knights of St John took it over and constructed a second aisle and apse. The church is named after a magnificent and unusual "Y" shaped wooden carving of the crucifixion which was donated by German pilgrims in the 14th Century. Although I am not a fan of religious statues in general, I found this one extremely powerful and full of pathos and spent some time examining it and sitting in the church. Despite being a pre-renaissance carving I found the exquisite detail and humanity of the carving compelling and I could not but fail to be drawn into meditating on the Christ's sacrifice on the cross for myself and mankind.
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| Iglesia del Crucifijo |
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| Unusual 'Y' shaped 14th Century German Crucifixion |
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| Santiago Peregrino Beltaxa |
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| Iglesia de Santiago |
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| Beautiful fan vaulting in Iglesia de Santiago |
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| The high altar |
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| A quiet backstreet in Puente la Reina |
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| Chicken Paella! |
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