My Camino de Santiago (Birthday celebrations)

It was a freezing cold morning when Henry and I left Ventosa. But we were in fine spirits as it was his birthday. The walk began with an ascent of the summit of Alto Poyo de Roldan a climb of 110 metres, not that bad, but not what you want to do first thing in the morning. This hill is the supposed site where Roldan (Roland) the greatest of Charlemagne's knights killed the Muslim giant Farragut with a well aimed rock, freeing Christian knights who were being held captive by the giant. The tale is reminiscent of how David slew Goliath.

There are places associated with Charlemagne and Roldan all along the Camino Frances, the most famous  being back in the Pyrenees not far from Roncesvalles, at the pass through the mountains near Valcarlos. This is where the rear guard of the French army led by Roldan was massacred by the Muslim hoards after being betrayed by his Uncle.The story of how Roldan was too proud to summon help from Charlemagne by blowing his Oliphant is told in an epic medieval French poem translated into English called 'The song of Roland'.

We walked for a couple of hours to the town of Najera and found an open bar, where I treated Henry to breakfast for his birthday. He reciprocated by buying some delicious little cakes which we ate along the trail. Najera is a delightful little town on both sides of the Rio Najerilla with strong historical links to the camino, being the starting point of section V of the Codex Calixtinus (The medieval pilgrims guide to the camino). During the 11th and 12th centuries it was capitol of the Kingdom of Navarre and many of the Kings, Queens and famous knights of Navarre are buried in the Monastery.

Our destination for the night was the small village of Azofra where we booked into the municipal albergue. This refuge was quite modern and well maintained with a large open plan dining room, lounge and kitchen overlooking a courtyard which would have been a very pleasant place to sit if the weather wasn't so cold. There were no dormitories or bunk beds here either, the beds were arranged in pairs in small cubicles, along a corridor leading to the washrooms and toilets.

That evening we celebrated Henry's birthday for a second time with a meal of cold cuts and cheese washed down with a couple of bottles of the local rioja wine purchased for two euros each. We shared a long table with a mixed bag of peregrinos from the US, Lithuania, Slovenia, Germany and France. Although there were a few language problems initially, we soon found that we were all able to communicate with each other quite easily after the wine began to flow.

Everybody was swopping stories, laughing, joking and toasting each other. Sitting next to me there was a quiet French man who spoke no English but smiled a lot at all the banter. Suddenly without any introduction he began to sing an old Edith Piaf song (I think). The whole room went silent as we listened to him, his voice was so beautiful. When he finished everybody gave him a round of applause to which he smiled then carried on eating his meal. It was a really good evening and I think that Henry enjoyed his birthday, well it's not everyday that you turn ninety three (only joking) although our legs were beginning to think that they had reached that age.

Historical Note (not for those of a sensitive nature): An Oliphant (not an Elephant) is an ancient war horn as seen in 'The Lord of the Rings' trilogy of films. Blowing an Oliphant is okay but blowing an Elephant could be seen as a perverted sex act which is not recommended as it could either get you arrested or trampled, or both.