My Camino de Santiago (Los Arcos to Logrono)

Los Arcos is a classical pilgrim stopping point half way between Estella and Logrono and goes back to the days of the Roman Empire. My albergue was located near the eastern gate into the old walled town, or it would have been if there was one. When there was a gate here, it was called the 'Portal de la Concha' or Gate of Shells, another historical reference to the camino.

Some of us met up in the town square next to the church for a few beers and something to eat. I wasn't particularly hungry so shared a plate of paella with one of my new found friends, a petite Australian lady Lucy (again name changed etc etc). She could represent her country in an eating contest; It became a feeding frenzy in which I came second, much to the amusement of everybody else. I never made that mistake again. Also the paella was cooked in squid ink, we discovered afterwards that when we smiled, we had black mouths and teeth, which again everybody found amusing.

The following morning it was raining as Henry and I left the town after a really good breakfast including home made Madeira cake, which was delicious. It carried on raining until midday and was a welcome change from the sun. We had a long walk today approximately twenty eight kilometres via the small town of Torres del Rio (Towers by the River); Another town linked with the Knight Templars, the protectors of peregrinos making their way to and from Santiago. The topography in this area consisted of a series of short steep hills which made walking a bit of a drag, going up them made your thighs and calves burn and coming down was painful on your knees.

There was a long line of peregrinos along this section of the route and we all intermingled and chatted as we struggled on with aching legs to the town of Viana for lunch. Some people decided to stay here for the night but others including myself carried on to Logrono. The sun came out during the afternoon drying us out as we walked through fields of poppies and other wild flowers to the outskirts of the city.

The approach to the city wasn't particularly pleasant, the path followed along the side of a motorway, through subways that reeked of stale urine and into an industrial area. Even the storks had taken to building their nests on electricity pylons which seems a bit of a dangerous thing to do. However once we passed through this area things greatly improved as we crossed the river into the actual city itself. I booked into the municipal albergue which resembled a refugee camp and found a bunk in one of the large dormitories.

We found a very nice bar to eat in that night and I ordered a massive plate of sausage, egg and chips and then discovered that I couldn't eat it all. My appetite appears to have shrunk since I've been in Spain, or is it all the pre-dinner beers that are filling me up. We had trouble finding our way home that evening, could it have been the alcohol or have we become unaccustomed to being in cities. Lucy declared that she was brought up in the bush and could find her way anywhere, so we promptly followed after her like sheep in the wrong direction (there are no Gum trees in Spanish cities). Luckily we came across a yellow arrow on the pavement which we followed back to the albergue, arriving just before they locked the doors for the night.

Logrono was the lowest point of my camino and is indelibly stamped on my mind for three reasons:

• The showers were freezing cold
• I picked up a stomach bug which took over a week to clear up
• When I left the following morning I left a pair of good walking trousers behind