Camino Day 9: Logroño – Nájera (17/03/15)

Parliament of Rioja

 

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!

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.

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 14^th 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.

Pantano de la Grajera

Also near the parliament stands the 16^th 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.

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.

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.

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.

Bull silhouette

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!



Ruins of Hospital de San Juan de Acre



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 12^th Century ruins of the Hospital de San Juan de Acre. Founded by Doña Maria Ramírez in 1185 it had a 13^th 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!

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.

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.

Town square, Navarette

The three aisled 16^th 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.

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.

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.

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.

Catkins near Navarette

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!

David approaching the end of the hideous motorway section

Cross marking detour to Ventosa

Before leaving Ventosa I took the chance to take a quick look at the 16^th Centrury Parish Church of San Saturnino and enjoyed its Renaissance doorway adorned with wyverns, mythical beasts and what looked to me like a Rhino?

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!

Podiatry advert at Ventosa

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.

Looking towards Najera

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!

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.

Najera