Day 8, September 8, Los Arcos to Viana – late post

     From Los Arcos, we headed to Viana which was a hilly town and found ourselves an albergue on the edge of the historical district. There was a beautiful cathedral along the main historical block that unfortunately we were not able to enter. We must have returned 2 or 3 times with various company but the doors remained locked.


     At the end of the street, we saw another old church with a beautiful arch and moldings and a huge wooden door. We excitedly walked through the door only to find that the facade was sadly all it had left. Inside we saw only remnants of an altar, the arches which were connected to the wall and parts of the old ceiling but no other roofing. It was quite literally, just standing walls. Some local kids seem to be using

 
























 it as a playground now. In this place we met Michael who was walking with his niece, Eve. We already ran into each other around midday today.  Anj and I were sitting under a tree and having our picnic lunch when they stopped by to share in our shade and for a bit of a chat, but seeing as we were only ¾ of the way to Viana, they went on ahead after wishing us “Buen Camino!” It was good to run into each other again and we started talking about the walk, people we met and the state the church we were standing in was in. They were such good company that we ended up having dinner together.  It was a delightful dinner! All night, we were swapping stories of travels, of people, of faith, of family and especially of why we were on this camino. I think this kind of connection with people and fellow pilgrims is what gives the camino a deeper and more personal depth.

     One sad thing about Viana was that we had to say goodbye to a lot of fellow pilgrims we’ve started the walk with. This is because we were only taking a short walk in the morning. We had to say goodbye to Patrick and his daughter Eve. Patrick was good company during the camino because he liked to talk and share amusing stories of his life in Ireland.

     There was also Susan and her husband, a wonderful couple whom we see on the walk every day. Her husband is a pastor, a sweet man who said that whenever they see us at any point of the walk, they know that all is right with the world.

     Of course, we also said goodbye to Michael and Eve, after knowing each other for only a short time. I think we could have been good friends, if time permitted. We gave everyone warm hugs and wished each other ‘Buen Camino!’ before calling it a night.

Day 7, September 7, Estelle to Los Arcos - late post

By the time I reached Los Arcos, my legs were about ready to give up. In fact, when I got to the albergue, I just sat there in the receiving area with my feet up for about half an hour because I couldn’t even remove my shoes from the pain. (Hmmm...I realize that I've said that every time I've arrived at an albergue for seven days now so yeah, I think this is going to be my daily refrain on this camino. So, seven days down, twenty one more refrains to go. 😅) Eventually, the pain eased up and I allowed my sister to show me to our bunks. I settled my pack beside my bed and started looking for a shower. 

The shower stalls were outside and there were only 3, I think, so as you might imagine, there was a queue of pilgrims outside. Among those people waiting for their turn to shower was a group of about 6-7 Spanish people of varying ages. When I got there, I thought they were all walking together because they were so animated and looked very comfortable in each other’s company, but apparently they only met each other during the walk. They were so lively and enthusiastic, that it’s hard not to get caught up in their fun-loving spirit. Despite the language barrier, I found myself laughing at their antics. They all just seemed so happy to be there. 

Among them was a familiar couple, familiar because we caught up with each other several times in today’s walk to Los Arcos. I realized during the walk that the man was actually blind. The woman with him was actually his guide, and not, as I originally assumed, his wife. Despite his condition, he was in very high spirits and he joined right along with the jokes and the laughter. That nudged me up big time. It’s like the universe was saying, “Hey, look at this man! He can’t even appreciate the sights you’ve seen so far in this camino, yet his spirit is so alive and he’s enjoying every moment.” So I tamped down the whining and just ‘enjoyed the moment.’ 

After the shower, we did our laundry and went back to the town center to hunt around for dinner. Siesta was just about done so the plaza was slowly filling up with people, and store fronts were opening up for the weary pilgrims. My memories of Los Arcos are vague. But in my mind, I see images of old winding cobbled streets that were probably left over from days past, side by side with a remembered pain in my feet that made me barely able to remove my hiking shoes at the end of the day. I also remember a park littered with fascinating sculptures near the municipal albergue and an archway leading to the town plaza, practically half of which were set up with tables for diners and those who simply want to enjoy an ice-cold pitcher of sangria as reward after a long hot day. Yep, I will definitely remember the sangria.