Day 10

Thanks to my day sponsors and 5000 step sponsors and the many other people who are holding me up each day in prayer. It is very much appreciated.


Yesterday afternoon, I spent some time playing tourist in Najera. This involved visiting the old monastery which is a burial place for regional kings from the medieval period. It also houses the Madonna with rose which is the statue portaying the vision some ancient king had when he stumbled upon a cave in this place. The monastery now houses Franciscans, I believe, though it belongs to the nation as a national treasure.


I also visited the Convent of St Claire and wandered around a bit. After a meal, I went to the pilgrim Mass. I was there a little early to say some prayers and it was lovely. Then, we all heard the sound of a largish group of spaniards enter. I and all the old ladies praying the rosary turned around. The new group fell silent. I was the only person sitting on the left of the Church.. There were about 40 people on the right hand side. This new group decided to take a seat and the came right up to me in the fifth row and sat behind me. Then, they began to whisper, loudly and annoyingly. I lasted about 4 minutes, exclaimed Dios mio, and moved forward two pews to get away from them. One of the nice things about Spanish Churches is that most people remain quiet within - this group was both annoying and rude.  


After the traditional pilgrim blessing at the end of Mass, the priest invited us to ring a special pilgrim bell three times - once for the Lord in the eucharist, once for Our Lady and once for St James. I'm still not sure what that was all about. As I was leaving, the mini-nun who organised everything chased us into the sacristy for a stamp for our pilgrim passports. I tried to tell her that these stamps weren't important but she would not take no for an answer. Therein, the priest spoke at us in spanish for anotehr twenty minutes as we all looked for a means of escape. It was not to be.


All afternoon, I was plagued with a sore right calf muscle and an ache in the arch of my left foot. I even went to the pharmacist for some cream to rub on my calf - a Spanish version of dencorub. I think that's what he gave me; the whole conversation was in spanish and I'm lucky he didn't give me something for stomach troubles instead.


I have already described my day from hell. Let me now tell you about the night from hell. Yesterday was the last day of high school for the year. This meant that every 15 and 16 year old in the region was rampaging around the city, screaming, dancing, tooting horns, yelling, breaking bottles, and who knows what. The carry-on, outside our hostel, continued til 5am. I don't think anyone got any real sleep. I know that everyone I spoke to was very upset about the whole thing. None of us can understand why the police didn't come. When I was leaving Najera this morning, I can honstely say that I have never seen so much broken glass in my life.


Having suffered such limited and broken sleep, the walk this morning was rendered even more difficult. Not  only was I still walking gingerly on account of my foot and calf, I was like the walking dead. My first time through the rosary, I may as well have been fast asleep. I am sure that I kept drifting off into sleep while walking and passing the beads through my fingers. 


Even though I had planned for another long day, of 28 kms or more, I was not sure that I could make it. For the first ten kms today, I kept thinking that I would pull up short and stop in St Domingo, walking a bit longer tomorrow. After about ten kms, the aches and pains finally went away and I knew that I could walk forever. Then, after the 15km mark, the pain returned again and I was ready to stop there and then. 


As it turns out, I was able to keep going. I am going to say a special prayer in thanksgiving for the discovery of ibuprofen. I really wanted to make it to Granon because we stay upstairs in the church/belltower, share a meal together and are led in a time of Taize prayer. Everyone describes this as a very special stop on the way. The only problem, no beds - just mats on the floor. I really need a bed tonight!


On a side note, sometime yesterday, little way markers started appearing telling us how far to Santiago. Today, these way markers occurred every one or two kms. As I was walking along, I thought to myself how painful this was. It felt, every time that we saw these posts, that I had made no progress whatsoever. I was delighted to finally find a sign that had been graffitied with exactly that thought. Afterward, most of the posts had been vandalised. Maybe, a way post every 10 kms would be interesting or helpful. These were just frustrating.


On another side note: since I was young, I was told that I would lose my head if it weren't screwed on. Normally, I now respond, that my occasional absent-mindedness is due to the very many serious thoughts buzzing around my head. I have no such excuse on this camino. I lost a cap on the plane flight over - I left it in a seat pocket. I lost my cold-sore gel - I have no idea where that went; I was using it. I left my soap (which is also my shampoo) and my day wallet (a gladbag with about 30 euros inside) in the room where I had my day off. I'm sort of at the point where I am wondering what I will lose next.


Hasta la vista!