Dear Aymery
Left very early. Its a long walk through suburbs and industrial areas. Knee still hurting and caught a blister forming - out with the needle and thread.
Walked along a broad pathway through a big park. I am amazed at the number of people out walking this morning. I´m sure I passed (passed??? - who is kidding who - was passed by!) probably 200 people. It was as busy and crowded as a city sidewalk. Continued out into the countryside past a large lagoon. There are plenty of birdwatching areas and children´s play areas and, amongst them, a shooting blind for bird hunters!
Walked along side a fenceline where there were hundreds of small crosses woven into the wire loops by passing pilgrims. By the time I got to the ruins of the St. John of Acre pilgrim´s hospital, I knew I would have to advance my scheduled rest day. Got into Navarette after a long slog that included portions along a highway. Found the refugio under a long covered portico with a rough cobblestone floor.
The hospitallero, Marcel, is a very nice man from France. After I got settled and had a bit of a nap, I went into the common room where Marcel was making fabulous crepes, the specialty of his native Brittany.
After relaxing and enjoying Marcel's crepes, I got directions to a clinic. I need to have someone look at my knee. Sore feet I can manage. Found the clinic and was seen by two doctors. They were very friendly and thorough. Left with a prescription for some anti-inflamatory drugs, treated blisters and directions to stop walking for a day or two til the swelling went down. Found the famacia and had an interesting discussion with the pharmacist. In Spain, pharmacists can prescribe drugs (not so in Canada) and my conversation with him was virtually another medical examination.
Returned to the albrgue where I encountered Gabrielle Malta, the Brazilian girl with the bad left knee who had arrived. After explaining my need to stay an additional day or two, along with an American fellow, we went out to the square and had a very good dinner. Came back and went to bed. Slept like a stone!
Ultreya
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This is the story of my walk on the ancient Camino de Santiago, a twelve hundred year old pilgrimage route. The Camino is 835 kilometers, from the south of France, across the Pyrenees Mountains into Spain and thence westwards to the tomb of the apostle St. James in Santiago de Compostela.
