Peripatetically Challenged

Not a great day today, so far anyway, in the sense of things to see and experience, although physically I am miles better. 

Left the lovely Cirauqui this morning without breakfast. Inoa, our hospitaera, had told us we´d find food in Lorca, 5 km away. The road leading out of Cir. is a Roman road, with ancient cobbles still barely emerging from the gravel. I crossed the first of many bridges today (modern, medievel, Roman, and everything in between), to arrive in Lorca, just before 10, as Lucille from Switzerland pulled up behind me. Everything was closed, so I opened my bread bag and shared with two other hungry souls. All food is communal on the camino, no matter how it is acquired.

Made a surprisingly cold stroll 4.5km to Villapuerta, where I planned to wait out impending rain, which never materialized. Going into the panaderia, I met Lucille again going out. She´s just out of university, and speaks German, French, and Italian, because htey are all her mother tongues. Discussed the pros and cons of being from a culture where multilinguality is imperative. 

Another 4 km to Estella, passing by a lovely abandoned church, where the Griffon vultures were circling. I began to feel like their best lunch prospects. Crossed through incredibly smelly fields, ¨like a ripe shite¨said Richard from Ireleand put it. I met him day before yesterday as I ascended Mount Pardon. He has until Aug 9 for his walkabout...at least it would be ¨very advisable¨for him to put an end to it then for his sister´s wedding. He´lls have to find work along, though, which may not be too difficult. Said in Lorca (really?!) he´d met a bartender who just stopped his pilgrimage and started up in the restaurant. 

Didn´t like the looks of EStella, but my next destination seemed too far. (I couldn´t have gone on, I keep telling myself, but now I´m 2nd guessing of course.) Am staying at an albergue just on the other side of Estella, in a suburb called Arnegy. The ¨worst¨in some sense s far, as it is basiclaly the basement of a Boys and Girls Club. Nly cold showers ina  co-ed bathroom without shower doors, so no bathing for me tonight. Fighting the urge to go on to Monjardin, only 7 km but straight up a steep hill. where I know I would find Richard from Ireland and Heather and Griffin from Washington state, all people I really like. But I feel this is best for me. No one so far I can really communicate with except for Peter, the volunteer hospitalero from Germany. May be the camino´s way of detaching me and making me walk my own road. Although I´m learning not to get too excited when an albergue is quiet at 3:00...more always come along, especially more Germans. Apparently, a popular German book discusses the camino so they´ve all picked up their sticks and started walking. Considering the number I´ve encountered, I´d be surprised if there are any left in their own country. 

Briefly, this albergue is a municipal albergue, run by the government. They are all 5 or 6 euros per night. Some are very nice. This one, not so much. Other types of albergues are private, like the one in Cirauqui last night, and they cost 9 o 10 euros but are usually cozy, nice environment. Also, there are parochial albergues, run by churches, which are donativo - donation only - but I haven´t stayed in one yet. 

I hate how difficult it is to write here. No time to compose really, even though I try to do a little on paper first. I´ll fix it all up later, and I will fill in the last days tonight, I hope, but I really despise how elementary this writing is. 

Love..