Day 6 : Zariquiegui to Cirauqui 24 km
(June 1, 2023)
I got a little lost starting the day. I walked out the hostel and walked up the steep uphill to the village. When I came across a man walking his dog, from distance he shouted to me "the Camino is at the bottom of the hill pass garbage cans to the left". I then realized when I started, I did not see any Camino sign just assume where I was going is correct. I walked back down the hill then saw the Camino sign, relieved to be back on track.
Without delay, the scenery that unfolded before me was nothing short of breathtaking. As I glanced back and to the right of the road, a sense of awe washed over me. The landscape stretched out in all its splendor, painting a vivid picture of natural beauty and serenity.
The road ahead continued its steady ascent, leading me towards a renowned point known as Alto de Perdon. Every step I took seemed to transport me deeper into a realm of enchantment. The views that unfolded along the way were simply irresistible, compelling me to capture their stunning essence through the lens of my camera.
Unable to contain my excitement, I found myself clicking away, capturing one striking image after another. The beauty of the surroundings seemed to demand documentation, as if urging me to preserve the magic of the moment. Each photograph was a testament to the incredible sights that adorned the Camino, a visual memoir of my journey through this breathtaking landscape.
The road initially started wide but gradually narrowed, leading me along sometime smooth dirt path and other time rocky road. It was early in the morning, and a layer of mist adorned the mountaintops while the sun beamed down on the ground, creating a captivating contrast. I stumbled upon two fellow pilgrims resting at the Alto de Perdon point, who kindly offered to take a photo of me with the unique backdrop.
In order to capture more images, I took off my backpack and soaked in the famous Camino spot. However, as the sun disappeared behind clouds and the mist thickened, I patiently waited. Soon, other pilgrims joined me, seeking the perfect moment for their own photos. We shared laughter and camaraderie, with my bunkmate Carmen, a delightful English-speaking traveler from Italy, and I posing for shots together.
Soon, two colorful bikers arrived and approached me and ask me to take pictures for them. We exchanged a few words in Spanish, and as they bid their farewells, they planted kisses on both of my cheeks, my first encounter with the affectionate nature of the Spanish people. I noticed that Spanish pilgrims often traveled in pairs, typically two men, walking side by side and passionately engrossed in conversation.
Leaving the famous spot behind, I continued my solitary journey until I reached a town adorned with a vibrant mix of flowers among the wheat fields. It was there that I saw Carmen again, resting and enjoying her snacks. I joined her. Carmen asked if I missed my family, to which I replied that it hadn't hit me yet, and I suspected they didn't miss me either. She confessed missing her husband, remarking that traveling alone inevitably stirs feelings of longing for loved ones. We shared a smile of understanding before Carmen kindly took a photo of me on the road, and we bid each other farewell as she took a break for a smoke.
As I continued walking, I soon realized that I had forgotten my hat. Turning back, I was surprised to see Carmen heading towards me, waving and holding my hat. She started running towards me, and I couldn't resist capturing that moment of genuine care from someone I had only just met briefly.
After retrieving my hat, I resumed my journey. The day's walk took me through several villages, with changing road surfaces from smooth to rough and stony. The path meandered through both narrow and wide sections, guiding me through open fields adorned with wildflowers and vineyards, alongside medieval churches and over bridges.
After traversing the vegetation farm, I reached town of Puente La Reina, known as a popular stop for many pilgrims. However, as I continued my journey, I noticed a lack of signs after the vegetation farm, leaving me momentarily uncertain of the correct path. I stopped at a nearby hotel and inquired about the route. It turned out that upon leaving the vegetation farm, one needed to make a left turn, passing by various hotels and restaurants. Once I reached the main road, I spotted the reassuring sight of a yellow arrow, guiding me back into the peaceful countryside.
From that point on, I found myself walking alone, as many fellow pilgrims chose to conclude their day's journey at Puente La Reina, a relatively large town along the Camino. Embracing the solitude, I continued forward.
What Stephen did not tell me was that once I passed Puente la Reina, the road would be consistently uphill. To my surprise, the inclines became increasingly steep, particularly as the early afternoon sun beat down relentlessly.
The uphill climb persisted for quite a while until I finally reached Mañeru, where the terrain eased up a bit. From Mañeru, it was just a short distance to Cirauqui, and I could almost catch a glimpse of the town in the distance, only 3-4 kilometers away. As I approached Cirauqui, I realized that I had lost the walking stick that Stephen had loaned me earlier in the day. Determined to retrieve it, I retraced my steps back to find it. Although I typically didn't rely on a walking stick, Stephen had insisted I take it, and I soon realized its value as I descended the rocky slopes of Alto de Pedon.
Once I reached the foot of the hilly town of Cirauqui, I found myself faced with the challenge of locating my chosen Albergue. The town was built around a hill, and my lodging was situated at the top, across from the church. Navigating the maze-like streets, I eventually found my way.
Finally, around 3 pm, I arrived at the welcoming Albergue. It offers comfortable rooms and lovely rooftop terraces.
Today's journey led me through a multitude of enchanting medieval towns, each brimming with history and charm.
During the check-in process at the Albergue, a tall man walked in, and to my surprise, I recognized him. I jokingly mentioned that I had seen him savoring a glass of wine at a bar in Puente la Reina, wondering how he managed to walk faster than me while enjoying such indulgence. With a charming smile, he replied that he simply couldn't walk without his wine. His name is Seven from Finland. There I also re-united with Stephen.
After completing the check-in, Seven and I wasted no time in heading to the bar. Stephen soon joined us, and we grabbed our beers then went to the rooftop terrace. There, Seven regaled us with captivating tales of his numerous Camino journeys. This was his ninth time walking the Camino! I asked about his profound love for the Camino, to which he replied with a mischievous grin that it was simply an addiction he couldn't resist.
As the evening progressed, I had the pleasure of joining a group of five other pilgrims for dinner at the Albergue. Our gracious Albergue keeper, who also doubled as the bartender and chef, prepared a mouthwatering feast for us. The standout dish of the evening was an unforgettable mushroom and bean creation that delighted our taste buds.
Seated at the table are Seven, the charming Finnish traveler, a Japanese couple, where the wife speaks fluent English and Spanish, another solo walker from Estonia and to my pleasant surprise, Antonio, whom I had encountered earlier on my journey, re-entered the scene, rekindling our connection. The atmosphere around the table was filled with warmth and camaraderie, as we engaged in stimulating and thought-provoking conversations.
Together, we relished in the flavors of the delicious meal, savoring not only the culinary delights but also the exchange of stories, experiences, and insights. ed along the shared path of the Camino. The dinner became another memorable and cherished moment.
