As I leave Najera in the morning, I pass by the hiking area and think to myself that I'd really like to come back here with a car so that I'd have enough energy to hike around (for fun, without the big pack.) As it turns out, I think that there were only 6 or 7 of us at the albergue last night. I had been thinking of going to Mass, and was just going to heat up my can of lentils and hunk of chorizo, but the stove was not quite sure if it wanted to heat up, and it took over 45 minutes to get warm. Agnes, from Hungary, is trying to boil water for tea, I think that she eventually gives up.
The hospitalero has friends or family over playing cards in the lobby area. At first this annoys me because it's loud, but then I get over myself, and kinda' enjoy the idea of the locals hanging out there as if in a living room, and that the hospitalero has company. It's only March, I think this albergue is open all year, it probably gets pretty lonely here for most of the winter.
I stop at the bar in Azofra for a cafe con leche and something to eat. Run into the German man and the others who didn't want to stay in Najera because it was "too big," (actually, most of the bunks were taped off so as to not be used) and they didn't want to be around a bunch of snoring people...pointing out of course that he snores the loudest of all. Anyway, they stayed in rooms above the bar, said they were quite nice, and are just rolling out to get walking now around 10 am or so. I think one of the albergues here was open, the smaller one. Go and pick up snacks in the shop across the street, I think last time I came through here, I went to the store and was getting ready to leave town when I realized I had forgotten to pay the bar, and had to run back. When I was here in 2005, I remember a baby, wearing only a diaper came running at me out of the bar, wide eyed, smiling, and with arms open and reaching out to me.
It's another sunny day, though cold. Stop past the golf course on the hill, where I buy an ice cream from the machine and sit on the curb to eat it. This is a newish place. So many of the condos are for sale. It's very empty (of people.) Stop in a park in the next (detoured) village to tape up my feet more and then begin the long walk to Santo Domingo. Pass the German man again and the Czech woman from last night, having a smoke in the shade of some hay bales. Keep walking. There are some alkaline pools on the side of the path, white and cakey. Run into the Dutch guidebook author again, as I'm passing the potato factory, and walk into town with him. He doesn't stay in the albergues. I go and stay in the chicken one. The Cathedral is closed for repairs so no good luck from hearing the cock crow. The chicken are out in the back as I was my laundry at the albergue, clucking as I wash my clothes in the freezing water, looking at me curiously as I make weird noises when my hands freeze. I think they crow and I decide that's good enough. I enjoy their company.
After mass, I come back to eat my can of lentils which Jenz refers to as "dog food." Antonio convinces me his food is better, and as we only have a couple of burners, I eat his pasta and cheese and zucchini (pasta has been making my stomache hurt, but I eat it anyway.) He takes our picture. And even though I know the ceiling is low, I manage to smack my head multiple times when I go into the bathroom.
In the morning, the hospitalera chastises me for my pack being too heavy, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it at this point. The weather has been good so far, but who knows what the days will bring? It is still officially winter.
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