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Parliament of Rioja
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| Old tobacco factory chimney |
My journal records “Very long
and arduous day today, although the weather was overcast and cool”. We walked
the 30.1 km to Nájera in 9 hours and 7 minutes and we were already quite tired
after our previous day’s walk of 28.6 km from Los Arcos. If it had not been for
the fact that we had booked a guesthouse in San Millán de la Cogolla for the
following night and therefore needed to reach our target of Nájera, I think we
would have been tempted to stop overnight at Ventosa. David and I had to come
to realise that a maximum walk of 25 km per day was about right for us and
anything over that just became an unenjoyably hard slog. Certainly two days in
a row walking 30 km was hard work for two middle aged guys like us, but on the
other hand we did have a sense of achievement after we had done it!
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| Me at Puerta de Revellin |
We slipped out of Albergue
Check-In Rioja about 7.30 am after a surprisingly good breakfast of orange
juice, espresso coffee and chocolate croissants from the vending machines in
the foyer. Logroño was fresh and lovely in the golden early morning light and
the mini road sweepers were out cleaning up as we made our way down Calle de Portales and past the
Cathedral. Rejoining the ancient Camino route outside the Church of Santiago Real we were greeted by an
elderly lady who shouted ¡Buen
Camino! as she headed out for some early morning shopping.
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David spotted some interesting horticulture magazines
as we walked through Logrono's suburbs! |
At the top of Calle Barriocepo we stopped briefly to
look at the Riojan Parliament building. The building has been the seat of the
regional parliament since 1978, but it dates back to the 14th Century and has many incarnations as a
convent, military hospital, warehouse, church and even a tobacco factory in the
1890’s, the chimney of which still stands beside the parliament.
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| Pantano de la Grajera |
Also near the parliament stands
the 16th Century pilgrim’s gate out of the city; the Puerta de Revellín or Puerta de Carlos V, named
after the armorial shields that decorate it and we symbolically passed under it’s
arch like generations of pilgrims before us.
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| Rioja's rich red soil |
We emerged from the ancient
city centre into the surrounding modern city with it’s wide boulevards shops
and office blocks. It took us about one hour to walk to the edge of Logroño’s
suburbs passing a military barracks and out along a linear park through a
residential district of apartment blocks with commuters walking to work and
children off to school. At one stage in the distance, we spotted our French
friend Louis going into a shop to buy cigarettes and waved at him.
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| Logrono viewed from Alto Grajera |
Finally the suburbs of Logroño
gave way to an asphalt track lined with trees as we passed under the A68
motorway and this continued all the way to the reservoir and nature reserve of Pantano de la
Grajera. The track seemed very popular with the locals and many people were
out walking and jogging or just chatting to their friends in the morning
sunshine.
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| Approaching Navarette |
At Pantano de La Grajera
we met up with Andre and Toby who as usual were steaming along and soon
left us for dust as we couldn’t hope to keep up with these fit young guys!
Instead we stopped at the very pleasant Café Cabaña Tio
Juarvi overlooking the reservoir, which we presumed provides the main water
supply for Logroño, and had coffee and Magdalena buns. Whilst we enjoyed these
we were joined by Leo form South Korea, who we had first met at Los Arcos. Leo
told us that he was struggling because his leg was sore with shin splints and I
gave some Ibuprofen. Apparently Leo was part of a fairly large party of
pilgrims that had travelled from Korea, but most of them were struggling and according
to Leo were now two days behind him. He was a bit concerned and frustrated that
his leg was going to let him down.
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Bull silhouette
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We left Leo to rest his leg and
then gradually ascended the 540 M Alto Grajera. This
section of the walk was extremely pleasant through well-tended vineyards where
farmers were turning over the rich red soil with tractors between the rows of
vines. At the summit of the Alto there was a last hazy look back at Logroño and
then a much less pleasant section walking along a wire fence with the A12
Motorway on one side and a sawmill and timber yard on the other. Many pilgrims
had taken strips of wood and bark from the sawmill and fashioned crosses out of
them which they had stuck in the wire fencing. It was a noisy and dusty
section, but lightened by the bizarre sight of a giant bull silhouette that had
been placed on the side of the Alto to greet drivers arriving in Logroño on the
motorway – presumably a Spanish version of the type of strange EU funded
roadside art you see in Ireland, much of which seems to be of a dubious
standard!
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| Ruins of Hospital de San Juan de Acre |
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| Medieval mason's marks |
Things improved again as we
descended through fields towards Navarette and crossed the A68 Motorway to
Bilbao. Near the motorway are the small but interesting 12th Century ruins of
the Hospital de
San Juan de Acre. Founded by Doña Maria Ramírez in 1185 it had a 13th Century Gothic portal which has been
restored and moved to the municipal cemetery on the other side of Navarette. We
took a few minutes to rest and while David had a drink I wandered around the
ruins and noted the different medieval mason’s marks on the surviving stonework.
Beyond the Hospital, the Don Jacobo Winery with it’s giant wine bottle reminded
us that we were well and truly deep in Rioja’s famous wine producing region!
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| Bodegas Don Jacobo |
There was a steep little climb
into the hilltop town of Navarette and we passed a rather overweight middle
aged pilgrim who we had seen previously and whose face was literally tomato –
red from the exertion! We worried about whether he was in danger of collapsing.
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| Church of the Assumption, Navarette |
The town was well kept with narrow
streets dotted with period houses, but not a single open café could be found
much to our disappointment, because I for one was ready for another coffee! Because of it’s position in Medieval times,
near the changing border of Navarre and Castille, Navarette was the scene of
many skirmishes and was granted a charter in 1195 by Alfonso VIII.
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| Town square, Navarette |
The three aisled 16th Century Parish Church of the
Assumption faces onto a small square with a lovely fountain and modern
sculpture of women carrying water and we went inside. The retable behind the
high altar was the most stupendously ornate and elaborate construction I had
yet seen! I dropped a Euro into the box to bring on the lights and was dazzled
by the sheer amount of gold that shone back at me. It is hard not to think of
the imperialism, oppression and slavery in the mines of South America that must
have produced it, but it was still beautiful. David pointed out that viewing it
with modern electric lighting was not really how it was originally meant to be
viewed as originally worshippers entering the church would only have seen it
glowing in the dim interior light of the church by candlelight, which would have
heightened the sense of awe and mystery. Keeping this in mind, I waited until
the timed lights went out and while David went back outside, I sat for a long
time by myself reflecting on my walk and enjoying the dull glimmer of the gold
in the dim light which was indeed more impressive and had an almost numinous
quality compared with the garish-ness of electric illumination.
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| The retable |
On the outskirts of Navarette
we came to the portal of San Juan erected at the municipal cemetery and stopped
for a break of cake, hazelnuts and a satsuma each. My wife Liz texted me and I
suddenly realised it was St. Patrick’s Day back at home and gave quiet thanks
for enjoying the day without the unbiquitous paddy-wackery tat of orange
beards, Leprechaun hats and inflatable green hammers! I was frankly glad to be
in Spain away from it all! The
arch itself, although much eroded, had interesting figures carved on it’s
capitals including what I took to be St George slaying a dragon, or perhaps St
Michael fighting Satan? In front of the arch violets carpeted the grass and I
watched an old man drive up and visit the cemetery and I wondered about his
story and mused on the transience of our lives.
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| Ceiling above the retable |
Beyond Navarette an initially
pleasant walk through more vineyards soon became unpleasant and dusty as we
found ourselves having to walk along a very long gravel track right beside the
A12 motorway. The track stretched off into the distance, the sun reflected off
the white gravel and lorries thundered past. It was one of the most unpleasant
stretches I had yet walked on the Camino and I had to dig deep, put my head
down and press resolutely forward to get it over with. In many ways I have come
to understand that the Camino is a metaphor for life – just as I keep going
during the awful stretches beside motorways and industrial estates, knowing
that somewhere ahead the flowers and birdsong will begin again, so in our lives
when the going gets tough we just need to keep going, trusting in God that
ahead we will reach the uplands of his blessing once more.
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| Detail from arch of San Juan |
Finally we came to the end of
the motorway stretch and turned off at a modern cross down a welcome bucolic
trackway to Ventosa, lined with almond blossom and vineyards. Arriving in a café
in the village we met up with Vira our Buddhist Nun friend and had a wonderful
seafood tagliatelle and a glass of wine which more than compensated for our
recent motorway ordeal! Vira herself had undergone her own ordeal; she was
sitting in the café holding an ice pack to her bruised and swollen cheekbone
and it turned out that she had tripped on the path at Pantano de La Grajera before she could stretch her hands to save
herself, had literally landed on the side of her face which had taken the full
brunt of the impact. After the initial shock, she said she was fairly philosophical
about her ordeal.
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| Catkins near Navarette |
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| Rosemary |
In the café foyer I was
interested to see a Podiatry advertisement on the village noticeboard. The
prices for a consultation were certainly cheaper than in Ireland!
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| David approaching the end of the hideous motorway section |
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| Cross marking detour to Ventosa |
Before leaving Ventosa I took
the chance to take a quick look at the 16th Centrury Parish Church of San Saturnino and
enjoyed its Renaissance doorway adorned with wyverns, mythical beasts and what
looked to me like a Rhino?
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| Approaching Ventosa |
The last two hour’s walk to
Nájera were hard going; the walk itself across the across a hilly landscape of vineyards
with some fine views was lovely, but we were getting tired and it was nearly 10
km from Ventosa to Nájera.
We climbed the 610 M Alto de San Antón and there was a fine view towards
Nájera and the hill of Poyo de Roldán.
An information board pointed out the main features of the landscape but also
frightened me as I realised how far away Nájera seemed to be!
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| Podiatry advert at Ventosa |
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| Rhino at San Saturnino?? |
Gradually however, we wandered
on reaching Poyo
de Roldán itself. Rather incongruously topped by the modern intrusion of a
mobile phone mast, this flat topped hill (poyo means
platform or podium in Spanish) is the legendary site of a mythical battle between
Roland (who we met earlier at Roncesvalles) nephew of Charlemagne, and the
Moorish / Syrian giant Ferragut ( who I mentioned at Estella). Various legends
of the David and Goliath type fight exist, but in brief, Roland was supposed to
have gone to Nájera to rescue Christian knights that the giant was holding
prisoner. The combatants fought for two days (with rests for theological
discussions!) until Ferragut sat on Roland who had realised that Ferragut’s
only weak point was his navel and managed to stab him with his dagger.
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| Looking towards Najera |
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| Information board of the same view |
An information board with a
section in English also furnished us with various fascinating (and amusing)
facts such as that Ferragut was nine feet tall, weighed two hundred kilos, had the
strength of four men and most importantly as far as I am concerned was
blessed with “a nose span of length”. According to the information board Roland
had “arduously unsheathed his dagger and plugged it” into Ferragut when killing
him!
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| Poyo de Roldan |
It should finally be noted
before we leave the plugged Ferragut
that the Basques also had a tradition of a giant called Errolán who would
hurl great rocks at them and in some versions of the Roland / Ferragut legend,
Roland kills Ferragut by throwing boulders at him and so it seems that two
traditions of giant legends may converge in this story.
Very tired now, we descended
from Poyo passing a modern reconstruction of a stone shepherd’s hut covered
inside with pilgrim’s graffiti and finally entered Nájera through scruffy and
ugly industrial suburbs and residential areas. I had been looking forward to
seeing Nájera due to it’s historical significance as the ancient capital of
Navarre and resting place of the Navarese kings, but I was unimpressed by what
I saw of these suburbs. However rounding a corner and reaching the bridge over
the Rio Nájerilla my
mind was put at rest as I saw the old town on the other side of the river in a
lovely location, a riverside promenade lined with cherry trees in the
foreground and backed by dramatic sandstone cliffs behind. Nájera
itself turned out to be such an interesting town with one of the most evocative
historical sites I have so far visited on the Camino that I feel it deserves an
entry all to itself and so we will come to it in the next post.
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| Najera |
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