La Rioja-alive and well

Greetings all!
I am now nestled in a hostel in the province of La Rioja in the town of Azofra, population 300, likely three days from Burgos, a metropolis of sorts, and now passing the  200 km mark. The trip has been eventful for beautiful spring flowers with fields of yellow , red and purple poppies, wheat grass, rows of grapès which flourish in the fall harvest, olive trees, and an everchanging landscape. It seems somewhat surreal that after an ovenight flight to Madrid, train ride to Pamplona, and then taxi to St. Jean Pied de Port, France I am now well into this adventure on the Camino de Santiago! A daily rhythm has been established ,always with spontenaity for unplannned suprises , and the persistent click of the walking poles has become quite natural  as a walking medatation of sorts.  The Pyrennes crossing offered sunny and hot temps with spectacular views the first day followed by fog and spitting rain  necessitating a rest in a warming hut with fire at 40 degrees with high winds on the second day. As we passed in the fog remnants of sheep bones were noted  with ravens overhead  and  wild horses floated across the trail creating  an image of Wuthering Heights or Warwolf in London scene! With a smile on my face and gitty excitement I experienced  an ever present sense of being alive! Interspersed in the first  few days days was a stay at the Orrison refuge at nearly 1450 meters with terrace overlooking the mountains and relaxing with new friends over a shared evening meal with Basque influence. Five continents were represented with many languages and reasons for taking this Camino. Although diverse, a roving community has been created as we all move westward,  each on thier own journey.  I tend to walk with just one or two persons and at times alone with overnight  stays in communal pilgrim hostels or albergues as they are called. Dinners are shared, a typical pilgrim meal with friends at the hostel itself or the local restraunt-bar.

Each region has been different with wind powered turbines aka windmills in Navarra, rolling hills, fertile plains, steep ascents and declines on loosely packed rocks or cobblestones,  ridge walks through birch and oak forest, flat street walks on cobblestone aside rivers and beneath numerous city portals connected to fortresses which protected prior kingdoms in medieval times . Scavenger hunts when following the camino markers in cities are at times challenging and the city insults  seem to bombard with sounds and traffic after being on an open road or natural path. We have passed  fountains to Roland, numerous cathedrals and ancient octagonal churches in fields, medieval stone bridges, ample statues of St. James, arid landscapes with rocky fields and farmers plowing after the bearing down of a  Siesta midday sun ,dusty roads, and plods along  200 year old Roman roads where I have an intense awareness of those that have passed before.   Initially wild horses of a short stature with long hair, numerous slugs,  and cows and sheep with bells were seen  wandering aimlessly in fields. Several highlights  have included  a wandering shephard on a dirt path heralding 85 trotting sheep behind  with staff risen in air, my adopted grandparents offering local libation from the back of a truck,  richly hued green lush landscapes of grass so green as I have never seen, and a stay on a mountain top arriving at sunset after passing through fields of grapes flanked by a rock wall for miles.

 Day 12 has now passed without a break and I move slowly averaging around  12 to 15 miles  with new friends from Alaska and Australia that seem to be on a similar timeline without the urgency that befalls some that are walking by 630 a.m.  How unnatural! First days were spent as well with a couple from Chicago, a pilgrim from Berlin, and many others of mention and unique character from Belgium, Netherlands, South Africa, France, and Spain.I feel alive and well taking in 12th century monestaries and churches as I pass through towns roughly each 3 hours, supporting the economy with many a cafe con leche,  exploring local specialties while tapa hopping in Logrono and Pamplona, basking in the sun  with locals in a Palm Sunday artisan festival , a part of the Semanta Santa-Easter week celebrations with huge floats carried by the townsmen through the streets, and enjoying  Basque dancing with costumes of sashes and high kicks that leave the head spinning while observing small community pride.

The church bells have just rung as I will sign off for now.  Ear plugs are a womans best friend, feet to be elevated, and dreams to come. The winds blew hard today and I am hoping for a dry manannna after a good nights rest! Wishing you peace on the road!
Hasta leugo!
Susan