After a quick breakfast and of course tea and cafe con leche we headed out the door into yet another beautiful day on the trail.
Of course these are present walking photos, but everything has sort of melded into our virtual camino. We chat about our prior camino experiences as we walk, comparing stories and nudging memories. Funny how walking and reminiscing can help to pull the stories out.
On the camino itself, we were blessed with another stunning day as we set off from Cirauqui. The stop was everything we'd 'imagined' it would be. We had our own small room in the albergue which was completely empty, though it was September (not a chance!). We went out for cold cervesas at a nice bar full of locals before a great dinner and then slept very soundly.
Some might recall this broken up bridge-like structure as you descended out of town.
A glance backwards.
We begin to pass hay stacks that Spain is so well known for. The hay bales are massive making the stacks massive. This is only a small one, but I'm pretty sure we will see other, larger stacks.
We finally come to the Romana Calzadh (Roman road).
I always find original Roman roads something special to venture along. On the Via de la Plata there are several stretches and from time to time one sees an old Roman bridge sitting in a field like a large glacial erratic with the water course long gone. While it's special to follow a historic way, to walk a Roman road can sometimes be challenging these days. Ken captured this well in his walking journal;
With that description in mind, we set off. Most of this section of the Roman road is in the 5 kilometre section to Lorca. We hope to find more of this history as we cross the Frances. We know it's out there, lol.
"...a Roman road (hard to walk on only because of all the feet that have already worn away the stones) [apparently the top layer would’ve been hard-packed clay and that was long gone so we were walking on the substrate, rounded flattish stones stuck into the earth at an angle]".
It was beautiful fall walking. A soft, warm day with birds chirping and singing all around us. The vines were heavy with grapes almost ready for harvesting. I'll admit I tried a few just to check on the tannin and sugar levels; )
There are often signs left by other pilgrims. Small stones adorn the tops of route markers and almost every cross on the Way. This one looks like a family circle. I'll try and post more pictures of these as we go.
Looking back the way we'd come to where we began our day.
Another section of Roman road. Definitely hard on the feet, and I suspect ankles and knees if you're having issues with them. I wonder how Neil did on this section with his painful knee?
A 'True Pilgrim'. Hmmm? Close enough I guess.
The second time we passed this canal I remembered it so well. The small building in the distance is a road side stop. This time full of a few of the 45,000 Korean pilgrims who cross the Frances each year. Most are polite and a pleasure to meet. I recall briefly encountering one young Korean woman in 2018 who I swear was floating down the steep trail from Foncebadón. She was wearing a flowing poncho on a sunny morning as I was pushing myself up the climb. She gave me a lovely smile and sailed past. I remember stopping just after she went by me, and I turned to watch her graceful descent in amazement. I think I took a photo as she passed? I'll have to look for it.
I digress. This is the restored medieval bridge just before Lorca, in 2018...
...and earlier in 2013. Didn't change too much, except that Annemarie was waiting the first time!
Lorca as we passed through, being very careful to give the albergue a wide berth! Thanks for the warning Ken!
One sees this so often in small Spanish villages. The towns aren't usually large enough to have a bakery, so vans zoom across the countryside between villages with loud horns announcing their arrival. You can often hear them in the distance as you walk. Sometimes you get lucky and arrive when they do. Always something good to eat on board, or at minimum bread to go with your lunch. Everyone comes out of their homes when the bread person arrives. Sometimes they just tie the bread to the front door in a plastic bag as they pass various houses. A standing order I suppose.
Our destination for today just down the road. The rule of thumb is that when you see a Spanish town in the distance it can still take up to an hour to reach it. I never get too excited that I've arrived until I'm basically able to read the street sign with the town's name on it just before entering!
See what I mean? Still a long way to go!
We arrive! Apparently they were waiting for us: )
Goat or a dog? No line through it, so I assume they are allowed to park, or at least do their thing here.
We came here specifically to stay in the albergue, Casa Magica which I had hi-lighted in my walking map book back in 2013. I'd heard very good things about the place and wanted to check it out on this virtual crossing. I checked their page on Facebook. They serve a pilgrim communal meal which is reputed to be very good. Paella is a house specialty, and they also have outside hammocks to rest in, a pool, massages and a yoga room! Could any pilgrim want more?
Tomorrow we plan to walk through Estella and move on to somewhere new (to us) for the night. Likely to Villamayor de Monjardin where Ken and Marianne had an interesting experience.
Buen Camino!
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