Day 5: September 25

A wonderful day’s walk.

Muruzabal to Villatuerta

The night passed by as Camino nights do, for those of us who have lived to survive them. To give some idea of the sort of thing that was in my mind during those early early hours (las madrugadas) of that Camino morning here’s what I texted to friends back in the UK at the time, which was 2:37 am:-‘I’ve been listening to a chorus of snorers for what seems like ages. The two main members have been at it since 10pm last night. Every now and then supporting ‘voices’ come into play joined by the odd heavy breather. Quite masterful really. Mozart would have struggled to have written such splendid stuff.’ Yep. That just about summed it up. I fell asleep eventually and probably contributed a little to this great Chorale, which must have been entering its final movement by then. What memories!

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Having said all that I was, remarkably, one of the first down to breakfast which was all nicely laid out in the comedor on the ground floor.

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My eventual objective for this day was an albergue intriguingly titled ‘La Casa Magica’ in Villatuerta, given good ratings in several guides…as it was one of those ‘different’ types of places that are dotted around along the Camino. I don’t mean that disparagingly but it was billed as vegetarian and offered massages (erm NO, … not THAT other sort of massage!!! just in case you were wondering). All a bit ‘New Agey’ as they say.

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The morning was fine and dry but fairly cloudy at first. I departed the albergue just before 08:00 and passed into the village of Muruzabal.

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But my first port of call was going to be the detour off the Camino to visit the church of Santa María de Eunate. This too had been well recommended. So I had to seek out where the track to Eunate commenced, which wasn’t all that obvious at first and there was no one around to ask at that time of the day.

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The track follows a small road that runs through immense fields on both sides. There was a strange sort of omnipresent grey-brown colour to everything at this stage. The only sound came from a lone tractor that was tilling the field on the left, its passage over the ground being accompanied by a plume of dry grey dust being left behind it. The vast emptiness of everything was only broken by the whitewashed shell of an ‘ermita’ reminiscent of something out of a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western, that I passed on my right after a mile or so.

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I could see no sign of what it was I was supposedly headed towards for quite some time….but then away to my right I began to make out a lone group of orderly planted trees which just had to be the target, as there was no other planting of any significance around it. It was 08:44 when I arrived at these trees which upon closer acquaintance were framing, like well-dressed arboreal guardsmen, both sides of the entrance to San Eunate church. A fittingly regal entrance into what lay ahead. The weather too had been slowly improving. As I passed through the line of trees the first rays of the morning sun were just beginning to strike the eastern aspect of this wonderful little building known as Santa María de Eunate that lay directly in front of me. Because the sun at this hour was still fairly low in the sky its rays were quite yellow in hue which in turn resonated strongly with the inherent honey – yellow colouration of Eunate’s stones. The whole building just seemed to glow with a lovely ‘warm’ golden radiance, almost as though it had just come to life. But something else occurred as I walked past the last of the trees and the whole spectacle of the place opened up before me in its entirety. Adjacent to the church was another building constructed from what appeared to be the same materials. Just behind the buildings to the south are a series of low hills covered by sparse vegetation. The whole scene, the whole environment, just seemed to have a wonderfully holistic ‘correctness’ to it. A voice inside of me uttered ‘this is Biblical’! I can’t explain it any other way. I’ve never been to the Holy Land, as much as I would like to visit it. But there was just something about it that seemed in some sense ‘familiar’, …. as if I’d been there before. You may be forgiven for thinking that I’m somehow trying to sensationalise this but that wouldn’t be true. All the way through my Camino blog postings I merely attempt to describe as honestly and as accurately as words permit what I saw and how I felt at that time. No more no less. The Camino has no need of sensationalism.

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The one detraction from this otherwise very intimate and personal experience was the fact that a considerable number of German senior citizens had been present and who were returning to their coach as I had arrived upon the scene. The garishly coloured coach in which they were travelling and the smell of diesel fumes served as a reminder of a more modern world than the one in which the Eunate chapel had been constructed! However they soon departed and thereafter I was lucky enough to share this enchantingly peaceful and sacred place with just one other middle-aged Dutch couple.

There is nothing grandiose about the scale of construction. It is not Notre Dame Paris nor is it St Peters Rome. The church is diminutive in size. But it has its own very distinct charm and its origins are still the subject of considerable informed debate. It’s also interesting to ponder upon the question of why it was constructed on this particular spot. There is nothing of strategic merit hereabouts. It’s not at the top of any hill and it is a couple of miles distant from the main Camino. In this respect it is just like the world famous prehistoric site of Stonehenge….which is located in some obscure corner of a field. But there just had to be something special, in fact very very special in these locations that led to constructions of obvious spiritual/ religious significance to be raised upon them. Why do we no longer see what that ‘something special’ was? One clear night I would like to return, to see the Milky Way passing from one horizon to the other. Maybe then all will become a little clearer. ¡’Quizás’!.

The chapel is open to visitors during the main Camino ‘season’ but it doesn’t open until about 10:00. It would have been interesting to have entered it but it didn’t detract at all from my enjoyment of what I can only refer to as a moving ‘experience’ there at Santa Maria de Eunate. It’s fitting to end this description of my short time at Eunate with this quote taken from the guidebook writer John Brierly’s description of it….

Standing on its own in the simple beauty of the countryside it evokes a powerful reminder of our own journey back to our spiritual source and Home.

John Brierly : A Pilgrim’s Guide to the Camino de Santiago

The track that leads back to the main Camino leaves the Eunate site on its western side. So if you walked there it will be to your right as you came up the tree-lined entrance road that I described above.

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It was fairly easy to pick the track up. It heads towards Obanos and skirts the low hills that border the track on its southern side. I believe it’s about a mile and a half to Obanos. It was a lovely walk, into a landscape very different from what I’m accustomed to in the UK, but all the more fascinating because of it. I was the only peregrino on the track at that time. But I had my ‘friends’ all around me, the trees, the vegetation, the birds, the air that I was breathing, the very ground that I was walking upon. Are we not all made of the same stuff? Do we not share one common origin? The feeling of being at ‘one with nature’ that has developed over a lifetime of walking was so so strong here this particular morning. I’m thankful that I can be ‘alone’ but never ever feel lonely. Es una bendición verdadera.

I noticed something else. At one section of this track and for a period of a couple of minutes a number of birds that had been in the fields on both sides of the track seemed all to fly ahead, to gather on some low trees that bordered the Camino, whilst twittering excitedly to each other. It was as if they had all gathered to watch me as I walked towards them. As I approached they would fly off, regroup on more trees/bushes further up the track, and watch me yet again. In total this happened four times, then they finally flew away, presumably back to where they had been originally. I wondered if anyone else had ever noticed this?

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By the time I clambered up the final uphill slope to rejoin the main Camino in Obanos the warmth of the ascending sun was already becoming very evident. But who was I as a Brit to complain? Obanos is a small but apparently well-heeled village/town with very little of the dilapidation that we were sadly to encounter further along the Camino.

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I’ve already mentioned that my day’s objective was the Casa Magica albergue in Villatuerta. In fact I’d already decided where I wanted to stay whilst in the Camino planning phase, back in England. But I learned something else about this albergue as I had been walking the Camino, the day before. You’ll notice as you walk the Camino that everyone in the villages and towns that lie ahead wants you to stay in their albergue or eat in their cafe/restaurant etc etc . So you will see various attempts at advertising this as you walk along, some amateurish in nature, some quite professional. The day before I’d spotted several self adhesive stickers attached to various metallic poles announcing the fact that La Casa Magica in Villatuerta was the only albergue along the Camino wholly under American management. So given the fact that I was already aware of the large number of Americans walking this Camino I’d become worried that this albergue had every chance of being full to the brim (COMPLETO!) if I were to get there too late. Which was why I had decided that getting to Villatuerta quickly was to be given absolute priority at the expense of having a nice relaxing lunch in a nice cafe somewhere. Hmm! It’s not what the Camino is supposed to be about is it? So having put the delightful experience of the visit to Eunate behind me I literally sped off along the Camino.

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I passed quickly through busy Puente La Reina, crossing its much photographed bridge at 10:25, and swept onward into the countryside.

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It had become very warm by now and walking along quickly meant my water supply was dwindling rapidly. The look of the vegetation hereabouts betrayed the fact that it must rain much less than it does back in the UK.This contrast in ‘feel’ and appearance was so fascinating. The fields on both sides of the track seemed to go on for ever and there was a tremendous sense of vast open space all around.

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For much of its length the Camino traverses fairly hilly terrain with few exceptions. The track itself does its best to pass through gaps in the surrounding hills but beware! … in many areas there is no alternative but to pass over the hills, as anyone who has walked the Camino can testify. I walked rapidly through the village of Mañeru, passing the cemetery on the left hand side.

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Then ahead was the absolutely glorious prospect of the village of Cirauqui, an archetypal whitewashed village set upon one of the intervening hills with the almost white colour of the Camino track weaving its way out towards it. In the far distance an impressive limestone? escarpment stretched across most of the horizon. The whole scene was as if it had emerged out of one of Jacob Grimm’s childhood fairy tales. At times like this you are so glad to be there in the midst of such splendour.

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I did finally yield to the body’s need for sustenance so I procured ‘lunch’ in Cirauqui. But ‘lunch’ merely consisted of a microwaved take away tuna/cheese melt and a drink purchased from a small panaderia located about half way up the steep incline that the village is built upon. However it was probably the slowest microwave that I’ve ever had to wait for. All I could think about at that time was how many American peregrinos had already checked into the ‘Casa Magica’ albergue in the 10 minutes that I’d been in that panaderia. All of which made me zoom off along the Camino at a much quicker pace than I really ought to have done. Juggling food, drink and mobile phone with just two hands ain’t all that easy. The section of the Camino after Cirauqui is the one that contains actual live remains of the original Roman road and the Roman bridge. Although it was tremendous to be setting foot upon something so veritably ancient, I did find it quite hard going as the whole thing has become very uneven after all these years. Made even worse whilst trying to juggle a very un-Roman combination of a bottled drink, a half eaten tuna melt panini, and a mobile phone!

Lessons learned. I passed through Lorca and so onward until I arrived at the albergue in Villatuerta at 15:00 exactly, still concerned that there could be little accommodation available at this relatively late hour. Having walked at such a quick pace on such a very warm day I had arrived quite dehydrated, so much so that there was hardly any sweat to show for it.

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The receptionista turned out to be a young and very pleasant but giggly Ukrainian girl by name of Polina. But what was immediately evident was how quiet and tranquil the place appeared to be, which was because I found out that from Polina that I was the first to arrive that afternoon!!! Unbelievable….but true! Was this some sort of reward for having walked at a pace much quicker than I should have? What happened to all the Americans???

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So Polina was able to give me a guided tour of the place and its facilities and I booked in for the communal vegetarian meal for 19:00, though at time of booking that community was just me! Tonight’s speciality:- Vegetarian Paella… sounds intriguing yeah?AND worth being alive for!! As mentioned earlier in this posting the albergue also offered a massage service. But I didn’t take up the offer, one of those things that 15 months later I do regret. I could have told you all about it. A missed opportunity. Also on the bill for afternoon/premeal entertainment the ‘Meditation’ Room was listed. Hmm. I took complete advantage of the albergue’s unexpected tranquility and did my washing and then took a refreshing shower. The albergue was certainly a fascinating place. Quite ethnic in many aspects.

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The next two peregrinos to arrive were Kath and Teresa that I had met a couple of days ago in Cizur Menor. Being Americans maybe they too thought the albergue was still owned and operated by Americans, but where did all the other Americans go on this day??? I retired to the empty dormitory into which I’d been assigned and spent my own time thinking about life, as you do …. a worthy and honourable pastime made all the more pleasurable as preparation for tonight’s meal was sending deliciously scented herb-infused aromas my way. In the strictest sense of the word, meditation wasn’t feasible as it’s supposed to be about calming the mind by reigning in all your numerous errant thoughts, anchoring yourself on the here and now, focussing on your breathing, etc etc. The gorgeous aromas of the cooking would have been far too much of a distraction. It had been much too long a time that my senses of taste and smell had been out of action back in England for me not to relish and indulge in the return of the long-forgotten pleasures of aromatherapy whilst here on the Camino. By the end of the afternoon I became aware that there were only a grand total of five of us in the entire albergue. I was joined by a fellow Brit which guaranteed that the atmosphere in the dorm tonight would be quite civilised (only joking)….and fairly quiet. To complete the group of five there was another lady who I never really got to know. At 18:00 there seemed to be no takers for the Meditation Room, but not to worry, there’d be time enough tomorrow, as always, for the simple acts of walking and breathing to allow me to ‘calm my mind and thus be at one with myself, nature and the Cosmos’.

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And so to the communal meal at 19:00. Tonight’s community consisted of just four of us. There were the two ladies Kath and Teresa and Graham from England who was probably in his sixties, though a very healthy sixties some might have said. A wonderfully civilised little group. And so the four of us sat down, gave ourselves plenty of elbow room, and proceeded to sample the culinary delights of the Casa Magica whilst at the same time sorting out the affairs of the world. The vegetarian paella was served in an enormous quantity well beyond our combined capacity to finish off. But it was very nice, a judiciously creative juxtaposition of herbs providing most of the flavour. Nice wine as well, before I forget! The decor of the dining room (el comedor) had a distinct South American Andean feel to it. But what captured much of our attention was the map of the World’s countries on the wall behind us. The map had many coloured pins pushed into it. But fascinatingly there was no legend, no description of the significance of what each pin represented nor the significance if any of the pin’s colouration. Maybe a deliberate ploy on behalf of the management to provide a talking point for peregrinos who cast their eyes upon it. The greatest concentration of pins was not unsurprisingly clustered in Europe, followed by a well-populated line of pins down the eastern seaboard of the USA, a cluster in the north eastern USA, another significant cluster around the Oregon/Washington/British Columbia area and a good representation from Australia’s states of New South Wales and Victoria. Fascinating.

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Thought for the day

1. This day’s walk was up there with some of the best that I’ve done in my life. I felt as though ‘something happened’ today at Eunate. It was as though the Camino didn’t want me to pass by this little gem…like it was trying to tell me or show me something. Later in the day, the views of Cirauqui in particular and the other villages were delightful and looked as though they had come straight out of a child’s fairy tale. I hope I can be lucky enough to do many more of the great walks that there are in this World, but for the moment I’m thankful and incredibly happy that I’ve been able to do just some of them.
2. Though this day’s walk was thoroughly enjoyable in an overall sense I have to admit that I didn’t enjoy the manner in which I walked it…if that doesn’t sound too much of a paradox. By that I mean to say that I basically dashed from the start to the end, driven more by the worry about the availability of accommodation than I was for taking my time and absorbing more of what was around me on the Camino. The fact that I was the first to arrive at the albergue showed that this strategy was clearly very effective, but but but I really did not enjoy dashing along and grabbing lunch and a drink whilst I walked along. You’re supposed to wind down and destress whilst on the Camino, are you not? Suffice it to say that this would be the last time that I made that mistake.