Variety

Estella to Los Arcos (Wednesday, June 2nd)
We leave Estella in the light of the rising, pinky sunlight that reflects off the river, the Rio Ega, running through the center of the city. Crossing the river, we enter the "newer" sections of the city - neighborhoods that go back only four or five centuries, rather than nine! But these neighborhoods held the more influential people at the time they were built.

As always, the little bar-cafes are alive with junkies getting their early morning fixes of caffeine with expressos and cafe con leches, and sugar highs of croissants and other sweet-laden pastries. Delivery trucks of fish and bread fill the streets, not only with their bulk but with their odors, while little, old ladies are out with buckets of water and brooms, swishing it over their doorstoops, cleaning them for another day. Someplace, a rooster crows. It matters not how big or small the community, there is always a rooster somewhere.

The path leads us up (always up) through the center of the city and out toward the 'suburbs.' Along the way, there are some newer rowhouses, our way marked by bollards, each of which bears a scallop shell symbol. At some point, Stella and Mary need to make a pitstop and tell me to go on to where we are to meet up with Josh and Lexi. I don't know exactly where that is, except that the evening before, they had said they thought it was about a 20-minute walk from where we were having dinner, right along the Camino. Somehow, I miss them completely, never seeing a sign for Ayegui (the area they are in), never seeing a sign for their alburgue, and never seeing them waiting for us (though we are running a good bit later than we told them.)

A little bit later, I find myself in the area of Irache, according to a sign. I don't have a guidebook, but I think I must have missed them by now, it's been a lot longer than 20 minutes of walking. I pass this wonderful gate and a lady offers to take a picture of me with it.
It turns out, she is the support person (and driver of the support vehicle) for her husband's bicycling team that is doing the Camino. We talk a little as we head up the hill. Yes, always more up. There is an impressive and very old Monastery here, but now what it is perhaps better known for is the everflowing "Fuente del Vino," the Fountain of Wine, from the bodega, or winery, that is here. It is only about 8:30 in the morning when I am passing this place, but I take the cap off of my water bottle and sample the wine. It's red. And not really very good. Perhaps you get what you pay for. It was free. Some people stay longer than others.

Even with pausing for the picture, and waiting my turn to taste the wine, the other four are not in sight, but I'm pretty sure that they can find their way without me (especially since they have at least two guidebooks with them!) and we will all meet up in the afternoon in Los Arcos. So I continue on. It is an interesting walk. Soon after the free-wine break, the trail goes through a resort and campground area, then back into more fields again. My mid-morning break is in a little village up (again, up - I've decided that all towns are in the UP direction) on a hill. Entering the village, I get to watch yet another farmer/gardener and admire his wonderfully straight rows and plentiful, seemingly pest free, abundant harvests. I enjoy so much trying to figure out what people plant in their gardens here. It turns out he also has two cement tanks where he is raising fish. In the cafe in town, I run into Ed and Terry from Rochester again, as well as the two girls from Milan, Italy with whom I have crossed paths several times. I have a little fritata with my tee con leche and that is my breakfast this morning.

The countryside varies a lot from kilometer to kilometer. By late morning, it is looking more and more like our southwest, and by the time I walk into Los Arcos in the early afternoon, the town looks like a town from a western gunslinger movie. Sort of, anyway. If you squint. At least this end of it does. I wander through the streets until I find the alburgue where we have sent our packs. It has a second name of "Casa de Austria." (picure of front porch with writing of pilgrims on the wall!) Come to find out that it is run by the Friends of the Camino organization in Austria (people who have walked the Camino, probably many of them more than once). There is a Spanish man who runs the place, but the hosts who look after it are always Austrian volunteers. It is quirky and colorful and fun. (fountain on front porch) And very clean. I claim a bunk, hoping that the others get here in time to find space. Like many other alburgues, all walking sticks and boots must be left at the front door to avoid tracking unnecessary dirt throughout the building. (courtyard and tendedero)

The others arrive later and after the chores of getting settled in, cleaning up and laundry are done, we go exploring and have dinner. There is a lovely church, Iglesia Santa Maria (most churches are named for Mary, second runner up seems to be Saint Nicholas for some reason). The church is in the process of total restoration. There are sign boards along the cloister that have information on what is needed to preserve and restore the painted woodwork, metal surfaces, plaster, stained glass, tapestries and so much more. I find it fascinating as it taps back into one of my passions of what I thought I was going to be doing with my life - design and preservation. The walls in the church are unusual in that they are all painted wood panels rather than plaster. The cloistered courtyard is filled with a gorgeous and fragrant rose garden. There are also lots of carts, or pageant wagons, with figures of saints or of the Holy Family for different church festivals throughout the year. In the back end of the church is sort of a museum with a variety of vestments and other church paraphenalia from throughout the centuries. Some of it, honoring different saints, gets a little strange.

After exploring the church, we look for a restaurant and find an interesting one up on the second floor of a building. We sit at a table that is obviously built around a part of a piece of equipment, but we're not quite sure what it is. Later in the trip, Stella and I will see one on display in another town and find out it is part of a large olive press to make olive oil. We have a wonderful dinner together. The music in the background is American and Lexi, Josh and Mary recognize the artist.
Eventually, we meander back to our alburgue. We find that we are sharing our room with a rather rowdy bunch of Germans that talk way into the night, but then they don't particularly like to be disturbed in the morning!