Symbols And Sandwiches

It's 50 km from Logrono over the rich, red earth of La Rioja to Santo Domingo de la Calzada. We split the journey by spending a night in the new albergue municipal at Nájera. For me too much of the 30 km stretch to Nájera was frustratingly close to the busy N-120 highway. But it helped that every so often truck drivers would sound their horns in greeting and encouragement. On a wire fence - perhaps 1km long - above the road, passing pilgrims had attached thousands upon thousands of crosses which they had woven from grass and fashioned from bark and twigs. Laurent was fascinated by the fact that one pilgrim must have placed the very 1st cross at some point - and someone had placed the next one, and someone the next, until thousands of successive pilgrims had run with the idea and taken part in the ritual, continuing what had become a tradition. He remarked what an extraordinary leap of faith that very 1st pilgrim must have had. A bit like planting the first acorn of a future oak forest. This fence-frieze of crosses meant something much more than the sum of its collective parts. It was an example of how something big and important could grow from tiny, individual acts.

The next day we took a detour in Azofra to visit the Cistertian abbey of Santa Maria at Canas. This was founded in 1170 and then, as now, was occupied by an order of nuns. Unusually, natural light flooded the building through high alabaster (rather than stained glass) windows. Laurent, an expert in medieval stone work and ecclesiastical history, held us spellbound with his accounts of monastic life and his unravelling of religious symbolism in the paintings and treasures displayed in the abbey's museum. Unfortunately I've now forgotten a lot of what he said - and it was difficult for me to understand everything at the time, as I had to keep translating complex architectural terms from the French. We spent a couple of absorbing hours there in the Abadia Cisterciense. But finally the biting cold drove us into the friendly bar-restaurant opposite. Laurent put on his most flirtatious expression and cheekily asked the waitress if we could eat our packed lunch in the bar. Of course, she let us. Well, he was French! After more quiet country roads and wide straight farm tracks we arrived in Santo Domingo later that afternoon.

A Frenchman Ate My Food

The next day 22 November a fine natural track took us to the village of Torres del Rio (see 1st photo) with its 12th century Iglesia de Santo Sepulcro linked with the Knights Templar (more of the Knights Templar later - they are associated with much of the route) and the octagonal church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. These churches are respectively on the left and right of the photo. In Spain the churches were often sadly locked, whereas in France they were usually open.

My 2nd photo shows some of the typical landscape on the way to the beautiful, historic and architecturally significant town of Viana, a major pilgrim halt. Cesare Borgia, of Italy's infamous Borgia family, is buried here in the Church of Santa Maria. He was the son of Roderigo Borgia (elected Pope Alexander VI in 1492) and brother of Lucrezia. Commander of the Papal armies, he was banished to Spain on the death of his father by his father's papal successor. He died near here defending Viana in the siege of 1507. He was a friend of both Leonardo da Vinci (who had been his military architect) and Niccolo Machiavelli. During the course of his life he fathered 11 illegitimate children.

Just before Logrono we entered the region of La Rioja, renowned of course for its wonderful wines. After passing a wetland nature reserve, the outskirts of Logrono were a little grim. There were roads, there were trucks, there was ribbon development. The weather had deteriorated, the skies were grey, there were squally showers. However when we crossed the wide Ebro river, and reached the proper town itself, we found it delightful.

Logrono is a lively university town, the capital of La Rioja, with a population of 130,000. I liked it very much. The 3rd photo gives a detail of its impressive Plaza del Mercado which fronts the late 14th century Gothic cathedral. That evening I shopped for fresh minced beef, vegetables and garlic in its atmospheric, traditional covered market, and for linguine and tins of tomatoes in its large modern supermarket (Logrono is a seductive blend of the old and the new). I cooked the old fall-back favourite of English-style spaghetti bolognese for my pilgrim friends in the albergue municipal. Success! I made a huge amount but every plate was wiped clean. Even le cuisinier Laurent had to admit it was rather good. A FRENCHMAN ATE MY FOOD AND ENJOYED IT! This was indeed a proud moment.