Agua=Vida

It was hot today.  Not Southern California hot, either.  Actual hot.  We decided to get an earlier start, so we were up before six and on the road before seven.  This was a good idea but it meant that there was no coffee.  I have yet to have a cup of good Spanish cafe con  leche today, and I am not happy about it.  Because we knew we wouldn't get breakfast, we bought a sandwich last night to share this morning, so we devoured that after about an hour of walking.

Today's route took us out of the river valley where Pamplona is situated, across a mountain range with (modern) windmills on it, and over towards La Rioja, the wine region of Spain.  It was another beautiful walk.

The windmills were cool, because it reminded me that the province of Navarra now generates all of its electricity from renewable sources - wind, solar, and hydroelectric.  Why  can't we do that?

We passed through vineyards, wheat fields being  harvested, orchards, and a couple of medieval towns.  One of the towns was called Puente La Reina, "the Queen's Bridge".  It's called this because some Navarese queen (probably named Sancha) in the 11th century decided that the pilgrims were having too much trouble crossing the river outside the walled town, so, she built them a bridge.  Nice lady, and as I crossed it today, I greatly appreciated her bridge.

That was about the time it started getting hot, like in the mid-90s.  It was also when we got to the part of our walk with no shade and another climb.  We slowed down quite a bit, simply because it's all fun and gmes till someone gets heat stroke.

Someone, sometime, in their infinite wisdom installed water fountains along  the Camino.  These are not drinking fountains, more like ornate spigots, usually with some benches and shady trees.  After  four kilometers or so walking in the hot sun, coming to one of the oases tends to make one very grateful for the chance to take a load off your feet, sit in the shade, and refill your water bottles.  I drank nearly two gallons today alone.

In all we did pretty well, still a little slow, but we made, and I think we all feel more or less OK.  We are staying tonight in a town called Ciraqui, at  a hostal.  Mom and Dad got a private room and  bath for EUR 40.  My bed in a common room was 10, and I'm sharing the folks bathroom.

A couple more observations:

1) As we walked up a hill into town, Dad said "Why does it seem like I eat more than you two?"

Me: "Because you do."

Mom: "Because you need to keep things in balance.  I'd rather have to wait  on you to eat than have to pick you up off the ground." (Dad is diabetic)

Dad: "And we both know you wouldn't pick me up of the ground."

Mom: "Right, I would just leave you there for some other Samaritan to come along and deal with you."

2) The following songs I hope to never hear again, as I have now listened to my parents sing them incessantly for the last five days:

"Here We Are But Straying Pilgrims"
"There's a Fountain Free"
"The Long and Winding Road"

Those probably all make sense.  I am hoping that he doesn't remember the Sheryl Crow song "Everyday Is a Winding Road" because I like that  song and would like to continue liking it.

Mentally, I seem to be doing well.  My feet hurt, I hate my pack, it's hot, but I will say this: I have yet to be bored of walking.  There is so much to see and think about that I am content to walk along.  I find myself worrying that I'm not contemplating enough, but I am only five days in to the journey.  I have been praying that  God will speak o me, either in a whisper, a shout, or through someone I meet on the pilgrimage.

Apologies for no pictures tonight.  I'm back to posting via cellphone for a bit.  Stay tuned and I'll catch up when I can.