ANFAS

Puenta la Reina to Estella (Tuesday June 1st)
We leave Puenta la Reina as we do most towns by going down the Calle Mayor. I usually get going between 7:00 and 7:30 or so, sometimes earlier, while the morning is cool. Some of the little shops are open already to cater to early shoppers and pilgrims - the alimentacions and panederias - the small grocers and bakeries, the pastacerias and bars or cafes that sell the cafe con leches and pastries that start a lot of people's days. Stella and Mary stop in one for some cafe before they get on the way and I keep on going. The Camino leads across the old bridge out of town. I get to it just as my friend, Emilio, is taking off his boots and socks. He says it is tradition to cross it barefoot. I ask him why, is it for good luck? He does't know. I was slightly tempted to do it until he admitted he didn't know the reason behind the tradition. I couldn't see going to the trouble of taking both pairs of socks and my boots off if I didn't know why, so I just walked on over. So far, nothing bad has happened that is attributable to my neglect of this tradition!

The path followed the river for just a short ways and then cut away. As in a number of places, there was a very descriptive sign board, all in Spanish, unfortunately, that described where I was headed from here, and a lot about the geography, and what I would be seeing. I wish I could have deciphered more of it and taken advantage of it! As all the days have been so far, it was another lovely day of walking through gorgeous country side with wide open blue skies.
This is one of the days when we have found a sherpa service for our backpacks, so it is a very enjoyable walk with just the things I think that I will need during the day. I usually stop somewhere in the morning, if we go through a small village or town with a bar or cafe, for a tee con leche. You can see that it is open by the number of pilgrims and backpacks lined up at the tables outside if they have a patio. It feels good to get off the feet for a bit and to get the load off of the back, whether it's the full backpack or just the canvas tote with less stuff. On this occasion, as on several others, I start a trend. I have to ask directions for a cafe, and I am the only one there for a few minutes, but the place quickly fills up with pilgrims after I arrive. One reason for the mid-morning stop is always also to use the facilities! After that, I'm back on the road - it's a steep little climb up through the village and in this town, there is one of only two (or perhaps a few) places where the Camino goes right through a building! Look for the yellow arrow below the step - it took me a few minutes of looking around to spot it! This is the city hall for the town, and there was a special do-it-yourself stamp for the credentials in the passageway through the building.

After crossing over the little river where the frogs sound like sheep, there were several more little villages and, while crossing a field in the kilometers between two of them, I came across this STOP sign that made absolutely no sense to me. Perhaps it is there to make pilgrims wonder. There are absolutely no roads leading up to it or away from it. There's nothing in front of it except a gigantic wheat field. Very strange! But I guess it did its job - it made me stop for a couple of minutes to try and figure out what in the world it was doing there!


One of the little towns I went through this day had this vacant lot just filled with poppies - there must have been thousands of them! The same town had this little Romanesque church, plain on the outside, but with this wonderful altarpiece on the inside. So many of the little churches along the way were open and they were filled with such lovely art treasures to enjoy.

It is an easy day's walk this day and I get to Estella by early afternoon. The entrance into to town is less than auspicious. Off to the right, down in a sort of gorge or low spot, behind some trees,are some high rise buildigs that have laundry hanging out here and there (a very common sight), but the buildings themselves look horrible - broken windows, grafitti, trash, other problems so that the buildings would almost look abandoned but for the laundry. It's hard to believe that people could live in buildings that look so bad, but we don't get that close on the path, so perhaps close up it is better. I'm trying to be optimistic.

At the entrance to the town, there is an interesting fountain. Pilgrims often refill their water containers from these fountains. There are signs that tell you whether the water is potable or not.As we get into town, it gets much better. There is a river (Rio Ega) running through the middle of the town. Apparently the Muslims came and established a city on one side of the city and then the Christians came and established one on the other side. When the Muslims were finally pushed out, the two were merged. Interestingly, the official city history in the brochure I picked up mentions nothing of its Muslim past! It simply mentions a previous Vascon settlement which gave way in 1090, with the formation of the pilgrimage route, to the establishment of the new city of Estella, approximately half way (20 km each) between Puenta la Reina and Los Arcos (tomorrow's destination). It's because of all the pilgrim traffic that there are so many religious buildings here, mostly in the Romanesque style. It's a very pretty city. There is a very old ruin of a little church up on the hill and there will be some other interestng buildings to check out in this city as well. The city is nestled amongst rocky outcroppings of hills, buildings being built right into the rocks in some cases. I am really missing having my guidebook to tell me what I am seeing (and to let you know).

As I come into this part of the city, there is a nice green space by the river with a map of the city. We have shipped our packs to an alburgue named ANFAS. I'm sure it means something or is perhaps an acronym, but I don't know for what. I locate it on the map and have to cross the river on a little foot bridge to get there. It is just a couple of blocks away. So far on this trip, signage has been excellent. There will probably be a whole blog entry on just that.

The alburgue turns out to be very nice. Since I am there relatively early, I have a choice of beds and choose one next to the front window. I am so tired of being suffocatingly hot at night in these places. Unfortunately, the German guy who will choose the bunk on top of me will roll and roll and roll and roll all night. Squeak, shake, squeak, shake, squeak, shake. We have decided that all of these alburgues are furnished with children-sized bunk beds because it is impossible for any adult (even me, who is not that tall at 5'5") to sit on the edge of the bed upright. I was on the top bunk on one that was so skinny I was afraid all night of rolling out. This alburgue has a mission to help the physically and mentally disabled. Some of the employees here are disabled. It is the only place so far in Spain that I have seen a lift for a wheel chair (and since my mother is in a wheelchair, I am very sensitized to this issue and look for it everywhere). Most of Spain that I have seen so far is not accessible for the mobility impaired. The people in this alburgue were more helpful than any place else so far, which is saying something. We have lost count of how many times people have gone out of their way to personally escort us to where we wanted to go. The most extreme example of this was when Mary and Stella were coming through Trinidad de Arre, the town just before Pamplona, and had sort of lost their way a bit. They asked a man, who then walked them the whole way through town, about 45 minutes, just to make sure they got to Pamplona. On a regular basis, people will walk several blocks with us to show us where a cafe or something else is that we have asked about. They are wonderful.

I got settled into the alburgue, got cleaned up, did my laundry (the usually order of things) and then headed out to get a salad for a late lunch. I found a nice little cafe practically around the corner. The service was really slow (she apologized for not seeing me, which would have been hard not to do since there were only 8 tables!) but it gave me a chance to say hello to a group of six Irish cyclists who were doing the Camino and to relax and absorb the street life.


Stella and Mary got in later and as it turns out, Lexi and Josh finally caught up with us here in Estella. They stayed in a little alburgue in a 'suburb' of Estella, Ayegui, and walked into town to have dinner with Mary and me, down near the train station. The building in the picture is actually a music conservatory, but it is a central gathering spot. That's the lovely thing about European towns and cities - they have a gathering spot where the community actually meets. We had yet another 'pilgrim menu' dinner, this one the worst yet - steak fries, fried egg, spaghetti (unremarkable sauce mixed into pasta), and boiled chicken drumstick and wing. Yummm? Not so much. It isn't what the Spaniards eat, the problem is, the real restaurants don't open until at least 8 or 9 and they are expensive. Most of the alburgues close their doors at 10. So, I have tried to find tapas places or some other alternative. The smaller towns don't seem to serve tapas, just the pilgrim menu or menu del dia (menu of the day) where everything is fried. The salads are always the same, also - iceberg lettuce instead of that beautiful produce we see in everyones' gardens! Laura, I still haven't seen a Santiago cake, but I'm looking!

A postscript (after my return from the Camino) - this alburgue in Estella was the only one which asked for any feedback on their service or on the conditions which we found there. Hmmm. Secondly, on reading more in Michener's book, Iberia, which I didn't get read before I left, I find out what a political hotbed Estella has always been, going back for a number of centuries. Who knew, looking at the quiet, but interesting facades of its buildings? Michener, writing in 1968, refers to it as an 'ornery little town,' where 'if you read the history of this part of Spain, it becomes a repititious account of how people who were against the government holed up in Estella and fought it out when all others had surrendered.' It is also the only city in Spain which has historically allowed women to become bullfighters!