Whispers from the Camino—Day 6

September 10    Day 6    Puenta la Reina to Estella. 21.7 km

So little to report today. I spent some of the day trying to work through how much I should be reserving rooms ahead for the security of it and how much I should just trust that there would always be a place when I needed to stop.

Leaving Puenta la Reina early in the morning

I think my angst was caused by the near complete lack of rooms when I arrived in Puente la Reina. It was a much longer day for me. I didn’t arrive in town until 4:00 p.m. compared to the usual 2:00 p.m. arrival time that had become routine. The day was long. I had walked just over 20 miles which was definitely my limit. I could not have made it to the next town without over-extending myself and paying for it dearly later. When I first arrived in town I saw Javier and he reported that he was already finding it difficult to find a place. I decided to stop at the first place I saw, a slightly more pricey albergue that seemed like a cross between a hotel and a hostel. I figured I would be turned down until I reached an albergue on the other side of town. To my surprise they had two beds left and I thanked the Camino gods for saving me from a tired and frustrating search after a long day.

As I walked out of Puenta la Reina I wasn’t sure I wanted to take my chances like that again. But I was torn. I really enjoyed not being locked into a destination and just finding a bed when my body and soul told me to stop. But the idea of being exhausted when I arrived at one of the delightful villages or historic towns and feeling desperate for a place was cause for some anxiety. Plus, it seemed like everyone was suffering from the heat of the past two days. It had been consistently 33 degrees Centrigrade (about 91 degrees Fahrenheit) at the height of the day. Most of us were dragging by day’s end.

Shortly after leaving Puente la Reina I met up with Leo, a young woman from Germany. She was a true pilgrim—deeply spiritual, thoughtful, and unafraid. I asked her about how she was approaching getting a bed for the night. She reported that she never worried about it. If no bed was available, she simply pulled out some light bedding and found a quiet and safe place to spend the night under the stars. I felt a little jealous of her as I had spent many nights under the stars as a child. In the summer I would ask my parents if I could sleep in our fenced backyard. I still have magical memories of those nights counting falling stars and watching satellites cross the sky.

Enjoying the long walk

But I knew the rules of the Camino. No outside sleeping was allowed. I asked her how she got away with that. She said it was simple. Predictably, some authority would come upon her during the night and inform her that she couldn’t sleep outside. She would apologize and explain that she didn’t know and then promise not to do it again. Apparently, that strategy was working consistently for her. I liked her confident style, but I was quite sure my conscience wouldn’t let me try that for more than one night.

The welcome storm

I arrived in Estella after a pretty routine day of just over 20 kilometers. I was able to get into an albergue easily, but it was one with very tight quarters. 14 beds in a room, very small bathrooms, a small wash area and no place to hang clothes to dry them. I ended up trying to dry my clothes on the ends of my bunk. The town, on the other hand, was delightful with a large courtyard where the bells of the Catholic Church rang on the hour.  A number of good restaurants lined the plaza where both pilgrims and local residents intermingled while watching the children play soccer out on the plaza.

Then suddenly relief from the heat. A piercing, drenching downpour erupted from the clouds. The restaurant workers scrambled to protect their outside tables. Everyone in the plaza rushed for cover. And best of all, the heat from the past two days was over.