September 10: Oh! The Romance

The last two days were all about the landscape. The sky has remained wide, changeable, but mostly overcast. As we’ve walked from Navarre into Rioja, I am fascinated by the shapes and textures of the farming landscapes. In the curved sweep of mown fields, the eye traces the stubble like the dots of a Polynesian tattoo, which repel evil by trapping it in their maze-like patterns on the skin. Vineyards look as if a giant has plaited cornrows in racing green. In dusty, taupe orchards, olive trees appear as grey daubs, enormous pointillist statements. All are tessellated together in terraces, crooked pentagrams, triangles, in which ploughed fields are reddish swatches. Fruiting and nut-giving trees are neat and dowdy. Stands of aspens shine silver; cypress black-green. It seems to me God’s quilt: gift of the Divine and fruit of human hands.

In these stages we are walking along farm tracks, minor roads or across marginal land, rocky and uneven, dusty with woody lavender, scattered with abandoned walls and long-broken tile, worn down to pebbles. There is industry in the region. There are cars, tractors, graffiti. But, the arch of the place is deeply agricultural, full of birds, grasshoppers, butterflies. The road is occasionally scattered with grain, or loose straw, so shiny and yellow you can believe that Rumpelstiltskin might spin it into gold. These “happy accidents”, together with the wild selvedges, full of blackberry, sloe and thistle support small animals and birds, which, in turn, support the many raptors: eagles, harriers and kites that we see riding the wind. I am being fanciful, but the Camino is the place for such fancies.

Although I am writing about the region in quite a domestic/domesticated way, it’s hard to convey the experience of scale. Tiny pictures taken on our mobile phones do not glimpse the immersive expanse of foothills, turning into plains, rising up again to mountains... A village seen, quite clearly, from the crest of a climb, can take two, three hours to reach. The sky is endless. The trail constantly disappears ahead, but is not done. We relish the intense experience of place that comes with walking long-distances (in the human sense). We are not being disappointed.

It’s not all tweety birds and berries. We are, so far, 2 days without hot food, instead we have been picnicking from grocery stores. To be fair, it’s due to not being able to wait until 8 or 9pm when nearby restaurant(s) open, in line with local rhythms. However, Logroño, our stop tonight, is a major town, the capital of Rioja. Once we have rested from our walk, we will surely be able to fill our bellies on a more liberal schedule. We have often spoken about how the Camino simplifies things: the pleasure of food, whether crackers and local wine, supped from emptied nalgenes, or the hubbub of a pilgrim table, becomes top of mind after 25-30km. Eating while hungry is a gift, for which saying Grace makes immediate, emotional sense.