Day 35: Off the Beaten Path

September 15: I took my time checking out of my hotel in the morning—no rush! But it put me behind the bulk of most hikers who stayed in the hostels and left before dark. 

 I stopped for a short snack break in Viloria de la Rioja where I swung on some swings. I flipped through my copy of Miam Miam Dodo—a French guidebook with simple maps and lists of lodging along the route. I became familiar with these guidebooks from my time on the French section of the trail and liked it so much, I picked up a version that covered the Spanish route I now followed. Nobody else on the trail had this book, though. Well, I bet anyone from France probably had them, but no other English-speaking people carried this French guidebook. Just me. =)

 

And while I was looking at the path ahead, I noticed it included an alternate route going out of town that was available but not listed in any other guidebooks, and I found it very appealing. The main path followed alongside a busy, noisy road and would have been crowded with large quantities of pilgrims. This alternate path stayed well away from busy roads and since it wasn’t even shown in the guidebooks everyone else carried, the chances of even seeing another pilgrim along the route were practically zero. In terms of distance, they looked about the same. The one catch—if you can call it that—was that the guidebook said that the route was unmarked. It’s a lot easier to get yourself lost along an unmarked route than a marked one. =) But that was a minor point—I had little doubt that even if I did get lost that I could find my bearings again. I really, really wanted to take this alternate route.

 

So I took the alternate path as I headed out of town. If any other pilgrims noticed my unexpected turn, they didn’t say anything or ask if I knew what I was doing. I followed a road towards San Pedro del Monte. Since the path was unmarked and I only had a very crude map to follow, it wasn’t clear exactly where the correct turnoff was located. But I had followed these maps for hundreds of miles and—to me, at least—I felt like the turnoff would be practically in town rather than just before it (despite that the map actually did show the turn before the town). I was familiar enough with these style of maps to “understand” what it was trying to tell me. 

 

Eventually I got into the town and there was another turnoff to the right which I thought might be the correct one, but looking ahead, I saw a dirt road far to the right of the town and I felt absolutely certain that that was the correct path. Except this intersection I now stood at didn’t seem to go to that road in the distance. I was torn. Continue straight, or turn?  

 

I decided to plow ahead and scout for whatever intersection would take us to that dirt road I saw in the distance. As I got deeper into the town, I got a sinking feeling that maybe that last turnoff was the correct one, but I finally got to what appeared to be the main town square where I hit another intersection. I was certain this turn would take me to that dirt road I hroad seen earlier—the road to Fresnena if my hunch was correct—but the intersection was in the direct center of town and my map didn’t show the intersection there at all. I was still torn about which of the two intersections was the correct one. The previous one better matched the location on my map, but this one seemed to have the road that led off in the correct direction. In my gut, I felt like this one was the right one

 I decided to ask for directions. I saw a woman coming out of a house  “Fresnena?” I asked, pointing up the road. (You don’t really need to know much Spanish to ask directions. It’s understanding the reply where knowing Spanish comes in handy!)

 

The woman said yes, that was the correct direction, then mumbled something about the path to Fresnena being “confusing.” That didn’t bode well…. She called inside the house and a young girl, perhaps 8 to 10 years old, came out seconds later, and her mom told her to guide us to Fresnena! I certainly didn’t expect a guide! And I was more than a little surprised that her mom would send her off with a  stranger that didn’t even speak Spanish very well. Foreigner, no less! I felt a little guilty about the fuss she was making over m,e. I just wanted to confirm that that road was the road to Fresnena, and she already told me it was. Why did I need a guide?

 

I waved goodbye to the mother , the young girl, and I headed down the trail. I tried asking the kid what her name was, and it sounded like the longest most complicated name I had every heard.

 

 

I saw a yellow arrow painted on a rock on the ground a little further on. I thought the route was unmarked, but look! A yellow arrow! . Maybe the Camino used to follow this route but was rerouted years ago to the current path alongside the highway? This arrow was just an old one that had never been removed (or repainted) for years and years.

 

My guide then pointed off, saying that that was the direction to keep going. I guess she wasn’t taking me all the way to Fresnena, but that was okay by me. She must have been sent with me to make sure I got past that one intersection that I had to admit I’d have gone astray. Once I was past that, I figured, it must be easy to navigate the rest of the way.

 I  waved goodbye to my guide and thanked her, and she turned back to go home. The rest of the route to Fresnera was fairly obvious and I didn’t get myself lost. From a distance,I was able to see Fresnera then just had to keep walking in that general direction. Before I reached town, though, I stopped for a break on the side of the road with a wonderful view and an ever so slight breeze. It was quite warm out, uncomfortably so, and no shade was available, but I liked the stop anyhow. It was so quiet and mellow compared to the hustle and bustle of the main path filled with other hikers.

 

Eventually, though, my break was over and I continued on into the town of Fresnera. My guidebook said there was a water fountain available, which was good because I was nearly out of water, and was majorly disappointed when I  found a water fountain that I  couldn’t figure out how to trigger to get water. No water…. The next town, several kilometers away, also had water (allegedly), so I wasn't in any imminent danger of dying of thirst, but it could be a very thirsty trek to the next town. I saw a woman at the edge of the plaza and asked her how to get water out of the fountain. She said something that I did not understand at all, then she said that she’d fill up my bottles with water. Awesome! I gladly gave her my bottle.

The woman returned with my water bottles, filled to the brim with that wonderful liquid known as water. Just a bunch of hydrogen and oxygen molecules, but so how important those molecules were! A man followed the woman out shortly afterwards—her husband, perhaps?—who knew a little English and explained that the water fountain was currently broken which is why I couldn’t get any water out of it. This was somewhat of a relief to me. For awhile, I thought I was just too stupid to figure out how the darned fountain worked. =)

 

I continued through town along the trail where a few minutes later, I found another water fountain—this time it was working. I didn’t have to impose on that woman at all—I just had to hike further into town! Oh, well. I drank all I could from my water bottle and topped it off at the new fountain.

Onward, out of town, I passed more haystacks

 

Onward and onward I walked, eventually hooking up with the main trail alongside the busy highway and packed with pilgrims. Actually, with my leisurely walk and long break, the bulk of the pilgrim pack was well ahead of me, but I had a few stragglers who must have been surprised when they saw me merging with the main trail at such an unexpected location.

 

At the edge of Belorado,I stopped at an alburgue for a few hours to rest and relax and chat with some other pilgrims, including the three who had camped out at the reservoir a few days earlier. 

 

I killed a few hours at the alburgue, drinking cold sodas and chatting with friends, waiting until closer to sunset to head out of town and set up camp. At around 6:00, I was ready to leave.

 

I  stopped in the main plaza, where there was a tourist office to get my credentials stamped.I also asked for directions to the grocery store while I was  there. A large group of South Koreans were sitting in the plaza, and when I walked passed, they all smiled and greeted me with “On-yahn a-say-oh”—and I greeted them in return. 

 I then headed out of town to find a place to camp. The trail followed a busy road for many kilometers out of the town, so I veered left on a dirt road away from the busy highway, hiking off trail a good 15 minutes to get away from the highway noise, climbing up a steep embankment, before finally finding a nice little place to camp. I could still hear the highway traffic far off in the distance, but it was no longer so loud as to disturb my sleep.

 

 

I’ve always been a kid at heart. =)

 

My guide through a tricky, unmarked alternative path….

 

Karolina holds up the massive haystack!

 

Karolina is very cooperative when I have suggested
poses with crazy stuff along the trail. =)

 

I loved all the flags lining the entryway to this alburgue in Belorado.

 

I spar with a mural in Belorado.

 

I was horrified to see this geocaching display in the visitor’s center
in Belorado. Where’s the letterboxing display? There is none!
(But they did have a stamp for my credential.)

 

 

The bridge out of Belorado.