Tuesday, 11 June 2013

Day 12: Torres Del Rio - Navarette

I ended up doing about 35km today. This wasn't really the plan, as I will explain in a bit! I ended up walking with Gwendolyn for most of the day. She was bemoaning the British love of icing when doing cakes - and maybe she's right. But there were also some other lovely characters - Alex, the UCL law student who has just finished his final year (with a keen interest in politics - pity the poor boy walking with me!), David and Haia from Israel, and Ray, the Irish guy who started in St. Jean Pied-de-Port with me. We passed through Viana, which was spectacular - lots of character, and a beautiful church too. It is a really old town, and was a great place to stop for coffee.

Which more than made up for Lorgroño - I got there to find the medieval tat market in full swing. The blend of silly costumes and people pushing prams on just didn't do it for me, so I carried on and ended up having a beer and baguette sandwich (bread fresh out of the oven) with Gwendolyn before we met up with Ray (the Irishman) and walked through to Navarette. 

Bar Feical in Lorgroño. What a shitter it was closed

The Navarette municipal albergue is not too bad. The showers are a bit patchy - water temperature varies as and when someone turns on the hot water elsewhere in the building, and the push button tap is annoyingly high, so you can't just lean on it to keep the water flowing. But there is a washing machine, and as I unpacked my bag I realised my clothes smelt a little... meaty. I've been really careful to thoroughly hand wash my clothes everyday, so was a little surprised, but €5 for a wash and tumble dry seemed like a good idea. It was only when I got back that I realised the meaty smell was actually the saucisson I'd bought in Arundy a week or so back, and which I've slowly been whittling down. My laundry skills remain strong. I did take the opportunity to wash my shorts, so ended up having supper at the local restaurant (€12 pilgrims' menu: first course spaghetti, second beautifully cooked pork, half a bottle of Rioja) wearing my towel. This didn't cause too many heart attacks, and as David pointed out, merely reflected my Scottish roots!

Shorter day to Azofra tomorrow - 22km, I think.