Love at Spain's Iron Cross

28 - Granon

28

Granon

Wednesday, June 9

Makena, Bayou, and Delta left Logrono feeling both sad and delighted. They promised to stay in touch with their new friends from the Lope Garcia family. It took a long time to say goodbye since their hosts would not allow them to depart before breakfast, and there were hugs and appreciation to exchange all around. Ximena and Arrosa in particular made sure the Seattle trio felt their bond would last forever.

They left Logrono under dark clouds, but internally they felt wonderful. The weather, however, took a turn for the worse. They walked wearing windbreakers in a drizzle, stopped for coffee, then needed their ponchos as the rain became heavier. Another pause at lunchtime helped them dry off temporarily, but by the time they finished all eighteen miles that day, they were soaked.

In their albergue at Najera, they took off their boots. They were water-resistant but not waterproof, so were soaked within. The three were given some old newspaper to stuff inside each boot, to absorb some of the moisture. They showered, changed into dry clothes, then used the coin-operated washer and dryer. Since there was no sun showing, there was no point in hanging anything outside.

Dinner was delicious, but after a long hike food always tasted that much better. They feasted on baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, peas with onions, mixed green salad, and flan for dessert. It was more than just filling, and they were tired from their late start and long day, so they turned in early.

Thursday, June 10

The weather the next morning was no better. They headed out early but endured more steady rain. Cafe con leche and Spanish tortillas helped re-energize them when they stopped for breakfast. Each of the girls felt some rubbing within the wet boots. Makena had a roll of stretchable adhesive tape, and they put pieces over the tender spots to protect those areas. Their weekends of preparation had made their legs strong enough for the twenty miles they walked that day, but the insides of their boots became soaked again, and the tape slid away from some of the raw red skin. By the time they took off their shoes in the albergue, each had multiple blisters.

"Rats," said Bayou. "We did so well the first week, but the weather was dry then. Can't stop the rain."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Delta. "I was feeling overconfident about getting away with no problems in the new boots I bought with Ximena at their store in Pamplona. I thought I was invulnerable."

Makena nodded in agreement. "Well, we're used to living with the blisters we got sometimes when we played soccer. I guess we'll just have to do the same here on the Camino."

After washing themselves and their clothes, they had about three hours until dinner, so there was time to rest. The twins' mother had grown up in New Orleans, so they had a maternal grandmother who still lived there. She had ALS, the disease Lou Gehrig died from, that caused the progressive loss of muscle use. She was still independent but had help most days. Other relatives lived near her in Louisiana, and they all chipped in to pay for nursing care. But their mother made it clear to the twins that it was just life, nothing they could do about it, and not to let her situation affect their trip to Spain. The email from their Mom indicated that all was the same.

Granon was a small town, so the albergue put on a group meal. There were 26 peregrinos as guests that night, and the hospitalero who had registered them served as the meal's organizer. Lucia was from Florence and spoke both Spanish and English with a delightful Italian accent. "Let me see if I remember. You three are Americans, si?" She offered Makena, Delta, and Bayou a glass of wine while they sliced, chopped, and mixed salad fixings in an enormous wooden bowl. The dinner prep took a long time, as it was supposed to be a social process more than just an efficient one, but there was no rush. They had the opportunity to talk with several interesting pilgrims. The purpose was to create a sense of community.