Walk to Sos was 34 km (21.13 miles), which I had planned to do and then have a rest day.  But I decided that 21.13 miles was just too much once you factor in “issues” along the route.  So, I decided to sacrifice the rest day and walk as far as an ermita about 1/2-2 miles outside of Caseda, a town with a grocery store.  That was the plan.  I never made it to the ermita.  I trudged into Caseda after almost 17 miles, at about 1:20, (start time was 6:20) and was not interested in walking another step.

Navigation issues were a nightmare.  There was ONE waymark!  One!  I followed a route that turned out not to be a route.  The cost over an hour.  Way over.  And while all this “looking for the path” was going on, there were loud rumblings of thunder and flashes of lightening, but Baruch HaShem, the deluge did not come.

Before the thunder and lightening:

It would have been a beautiful walk:

had it not been for that “error” near the beginning—and several other incidences that I shall not bother relating.

Part of the problem is the GPS track. In some places, this being one, the track, or the graphic of the track, is off, so you  think you are on the route, or that you are supposed to turn, but you are not.  sometimes there are three or more paths going pretty much in the same direction, so it is not all 90 degree turns or anything so obvious. The waypoints are clearly too far apart to create an honest representation on a GPS.  And the Garmin map of Spain is a joke.  There is barely a feature on it:  no side roads, nothing. Viewranger is helpful, but all devices have limitations.  So while my ineptitude may be a contributing factor to finding the path—assuming there is one, it is only one.

It is so thoughtful when someone makes a little cairn:

Very old steps in a very old town:

When I got to the hotel, I read the description of the second part of this walk that I had planned to do tomorrow.  It read like a nightmare: disappearing paths, un-navigable  stretches “where you may have to go north for a while and then turn back south.”  Though I must be driving Cristina—I really am sorry Cristina— absolutely batty with my changes, I decided not to walk the walk tomorrow.  I’ll do another ida y vuelta (out and back) and and explore the town.

Sos de Rey Católico, from here on in to be called Sos, admits no cars.  The streets are too narrow, so I thought it best to figure out where to go to meet the taxi….like for when I leave.  As I stepped out of the hotel, I saw, among the paving stones:

 

In the above photo, you can see a bit of one of these gargoyles screeching its little stone heart out:

Always a happy sight:

Walking back towards Larraga, you can see the town nestled on the hill.  Notice the church.  (How could you not?)

You know what 105 degree heat is good for?  Drying your laundry.

Los Arcos to Allo was not the etapa (stage) for today; the stage is all the way to Larraga, 40 km.  Right now, at 4:45 p.m. is 107 degrees, full sun.  I left at 5:30 a.m. while it was still dark since the first mile or so was on the road so I didn’t have to see an obscure path.  Anyway, as I stepped out of the casa I almost tripped over a DUDE sleeping on the doorstep.  Estaban, the proprietor, had told me that someone was expected later in the evening, but I guess this guy, doubtless walking the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, arrived just too late.

I must say that walking through Navarra is not among my top 1000 choices.  It is flat,

no trees. It must be the hay capital of the world (see above and below):

and though the paths area by no means obscure, well, except occasionally, it is really easy to miss a turn, which I did today, and that cost a good 1/2 hour.  Maybe the error was due to a distraction.  I heard a LOUD noise, like that of 1000 motorcycles.  It kept getting louder.  I looked up and thought:  Oh, a drone out here in the middle of nowhere.  Amazon must be ferrying goods to some far flung corner of this desert.  Mais non!  There was a guy in the apparatus going off for a fly!

 It is also very hot.  Despite my screw up, I reached Allo at 10:30 on the dot, as planned.  The taxista was schmoozing it up in a local bar, but presently he appeared and off we went to Larraga.  I could barely understand a word el taxista said.  But when I got to the hotel, I could understand everything all over again and that did make me feel better.

Tonight’s hotel has air-conditioning! It also has jacuzzi jets in the tub, but I couldn’t get that luxury to work.

Huh?  A refuge for lost souls?  Mais non!  Perdiz means partridge!  My new word of the day!

El Santuario de Nuestra Señora de Codes.  More about that later.

Left la casa at about 6:15 because even though the distance today was modest—12 miles—there was a grocery store that needed getting to before it closed at 1:00.  I arrived at 11:15.  Google Maps, now that I have a functioning phone, directed me, so I was able to restock the larder, so to speak, and have eggs for dinner, and later a double chocolate magnum from the bar.  The taxi ride back to Bernedo from Santa Cruz, all of fifteen minutes, cost €50.  Would you believe?  That is because the taxi had to come way from Peñacerrada.  “Oh,” I said to the son of Fernando the taxi driver who was supposed to have driven, “If you live in Peñacerrada, you probably know Maite.”  (She is the woman who runs the cute B and B there.) “Oh, yes,” he said.  “She is my aunt and the woman who owns the panadería” is my mother.”  And I think that they are all related to Silvie, who owns the casa rural here in Bernedo and that they have a scam going with Fernando because it was Silvie who  recommended Fernando way over there in Peñacerrada when there is a perfectly nice and very competent taxi driver by the name of Carlos right in Santa Cruz de Campezo who could have done the job.  Oh well, everybody’a back needs a scratch, and everyone has to earn a living.

The big news of the day is that I did not make any errors.  Maybe a first for this walk.  A few moments of equivocation, to be sure, but no added miles.  It seems that in this section, and it is all very regional,  there has been some recent effort put into grooming the path.  Just the fact that there are real paths is notable.

But it is always something:

Next morning, a 6:15 pick up again—by Carlos, the perfectly nice and very competent taxista—to return to Santa Cruz de Campezo to begin the truncated walk to Los Arcos.  Truncated because it is possible to divide this stage into two, which I happily did, and am I ever glad!  The stage today was barely seven miles, but over a 3110 feet of climbing and 4100 of descent, all very steep.  The descent, well, let’s just say that for part of it sitting down and sliding, and wondering whether I should close my eyes, was the preferred option.

There was a decent stretch of ridge walking where the views were like this on either side:

But it was so windy that just pushing on ahead with the poles was all I could manage.  Some dramatic stone formations on the way down:

 It was a good walk and I am happy to save the last eleven miles for tomorrow.

So, if you have to get in touch, I am at the Hospederia del Santuario de Nuestra Señora de Codes, where I arrived at 10:30 a.m.  It is a decent enough place to have some extra hours to rest—yes, rest— provided that you bring your own soap for the shower.  Towels were provided.

Sergio, el taxista—remember him?—who was to return me to Berantevilla where today’s section began, refused to pick me up at 6:00 a.m. or at 6:15.  He said 6:30.  We compromised.  He showed up at 6:23.  I told him that his web site promised service 24 hours a day but he was not moved.  I have learned that web sites promise a lot that is not provided.  Anyway, I was concerned that it was going to be a wretchedly hot day and the twenty-five minutes difference counts when there is a lot of hillage—as, indeed, there was today— that is ever so much easier to tackle during the cooler hours of the morning.

A new phenomenon today: actual paths!!  What a joy!  The waymarking was good in most places, too, but getting through these towns, small as they are, is a challenge every time.  The streets wind and turn and there can be several possible or impossible choices.  You are almost euphoric when you get it right.

All I think about, it seems, is food.  Where to get it, when I can get it, how many days does one trip to a grocery store have to last.  The place I am staying tonight has a panadería, which is the only shop in town.  I arrived at 1:00 and bought the very last loaf.  Some roast chicken would be awfully nice right about now.  Sardines will have to do.  Oh, one thing they have here is tuna and salmon in tins, but in a pate form.  Once you get over the shock, if, in fact you do, that this is not cat food, it is really not bad.

The next phase, to Bernedo, was mostly a good walk, but again, missing subtle unexpected turns added a mile, if not more, to an already long walk….17 1/2 is a lot of miles.

An old house:

Not helpful:

Is this a warning or a vocative?

Last night’s accommodation was just adorable, a redone mill or something like that.  Thick stone walls, sweet little cut out windows, cozy, and good wi-fi.  Tonight, in Bernedo, I have a whole house!  Wanted to go to the “best bar in town”  (there are two), thinking I could get a tortilla (egg and potato) and heat it up.  But wouldn’t you know, the bar was closed today.  A good thing I decided to check tomorrow’s start point and hit the second bar before taking a shower and all because that bar closed at 3:30.  Usually bars are open until 11:00.  Anyway, I asked for a cheese bocadillo (a sandwich).  It was just that: two slices of bread with cheese in the middle.  But having a stove allows one to toast bread, so I did!  I guess I could have melted the cheese, but didn’t think about that at the time.

Flowers:

I just wan’t up to looking for the alternate to this path, so defying the prohibition, I just went.  Fortunately, there were no unpleasant consequences, and before long, I was where I was supposed to be.

I had planned to go to the grocery store on my way to the hotel, but this being Sunday, even the major supermarkets are closed, at least here.  It is going to be a lot of cheese and crackers and peanut butter for a few days.

And view in the other direction:

It had rained and the grass was wet.  It was very very wet and it was also tall.  Very very tall.  The path was extremely overgrown.  I was soaked.  Sloshing, and I mean sloshing in my boots at the beginning of a 20 mile day, made me think about those soldiers in the First World War, in the trenches, wet for days on end, their feet never dry, unlike me, who, after eight or nine hours could be comfortable again.

A town:

There will always be a church but hardly ever a grocery store.

Very wet tall grass but with flowers: