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Ebro Zaragoza to Logroño

henrythedog

Veteran Member
Time of past OR future Camino
Annually - often more - from 2014
Just got a pass-out for eight days; Mrs HtD still being a little unwell - but improving - so by hook or by crook I’m going to do this stretch of the C Del Ebro.

A automobile, ‘plane, train, train, automobile kind of day will see me in Zaragoza later this evening and we’ll go from there.

I’ll probably just write a summary at the end, but it’s likely to involve a few long days and - in extremis - a short train trip as the route, conveniently is accompanied most of the way by a train track; although trains are infrequent and true to RENFEs tradition, too early or too late.
 
...and ship it to Santiago for storage. You pick it up once in Santiago. Service offered by Casa Ivar (we use DHL for transportation).
Perfect memento/gift in a presentation box. Engraving available, 25 character max.
After a very long day via Barcelona I’m trying to get the Zaragozan licenced trade back on its feet and solve the Torreznos surplus for them. It’s worth the effort of getting here. I just managed to get to the Basilica before they knocked off to get a sello so I can set off promptly in the morning. Meanwhile I’m going to see if anyone in Barrio El Tubo remembers me from earlier in the year
 
@SabsP gave me a great recommendation for Gallur. The restaurant in the Hotel Colono is one of those places with an inexpensive but superb menú del día that comes with a decent wine.

Meanwhile I’m going to see if anyone in Barrio El Tubo remembers me from earlier in the year
Hope you make it out of El Tubo in one piece, @henrythedog.
 
Older and wiser (ahem!) I’m out of El Tubo whilst the locals are still arriving. I was recognised by a few - apparently I look like there’s no way I could possibly speak Spanish, and the memorable part is that I can.

I take very few posters recommendations without reservation but a joint recommendation by @peregrina2000 and @SabsP is as close to three peregrina michelin stars as a recommendation can be and so, having spotted it in previous posts, I’m (unusually) booked in to the Hotel Colono in Gallur on Saturday night so that I can comment on breakfast and dinner and - if I get on with it - lunch. I booked over the phone,with nothing in writing, but I didn’t get the impression it would be packed-out.
 
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Well that all passed off peacefully.

I do recommend Barrio El Tubo. Very busy from 20:00 onwards with a good mix of traditional and more inventive bars and restaurants.

29k to Alagón today. Inevitably flat, the route follows a river and train line, with mountains in the distance to the west and a high escarpment to the east.

The weather’s excellent, cool in the morning, although I’ve been walking into a steady wind all day which does slow me down and is very dehydrating.

Saw two German peregrinos in Alagón, but that’s it. Lovely really.

The villages en-route are typical small-town Spain, quiet but with sufficient infrastructure. I managed three sellos en-route, although other enquiries drew a blank. The route marking is sparse but sufficient if you’re happy to follow your nose and have the ‘Camino sense’ to recognise a likely path when you see it.

Alagón is splendid. Large by local standards, but with a sense of calm and order. I’m in the ‘Los Angeles’, which is clean and simple. The restaurant is well regarded, so I’ll put that to the test. In the meantime I’m having a few scoops at the Bar Riga, in shorts and a t-shirt whilst the locals are dressed for the arctic.

A slight mishap en-route as I thought it was time for a ‘nice sit down’; which together with infinite tea was my paternal grandmother’s idea of a day well-spent, but I digress.

What appeared to be a nice soft friendly plant amongst the twigs and rocks, wasn’t. It’s highly evolved method of seed distribution involved detaching hundreds of the damn things with adhesive and micro-hairs. It had obviously been waiting years patiently for some idiot to sit on it, and wasn’t going to miss the chance.

So, my arrival in Alagón required an emergency visit to the Pharmacist for a pair of eyebrow-tweezers and a solid hour extracting spiky seeds from my shorts and my ‘person’, for want of a better euphemism. It’s a good job I’m still reasonably flexible and I packed my reading-glasses.

All well at home, which is as it should be, Henry the Actual Dog in the dog hotel - slightly more expensive than my accomodation; and Mrs HtD continues towards full recovery; no doubt with the heating full-on. A small price to pay for being let off the lead on a regular basis.

Gallur tomorrow where the El Colono awaits; then the distance steps up.
 
Well that all passed off peacefully.

I do recommend Barrio El Tubo. Very busy from 20:00 onwards with a good mix of traditional and more inventive bars and restaurants.

29k to Alagón today. Inevitably flat, the route follows a river and train line, with mountains in the distance to the west and a high escarpment to the east.

The weather’s excellent, cool in the morning, although I’ve been walking into a steady wind all day which does slow me down and is very dehydrating.

Saw two German peregrinos in Alagón, but that’s it. Lovely really.

The villages en-route are typical small-town Spain, quiet but with sufficient infrastructure. I managed three sellos en-route, although other enquiries drew a blank. The route marking is sparse but sufficient if you’re happy to follow your nose and have the ‘Camino sense’ to recognise a likely path when you see it.

Alagón is splendid. Large by local standards, but with a sense of calm and order. I’m in the ‘Los Angeles’, which is clean and simple. The restaurant is well regarded, so I’ll put that to the test. In the meantime I’m having a few scoops at the Bar Riga, in shorts and a t-shirt whilst the locals are dressed for the arctic.

A slight mishap en-route as I thought it was time for a ‘nice sit down’; which together with infinite tea was my paternal grandmother’s idea of a day well-spent, but I digress.

What appeared to be a nice soft friendly plant amongst the twigs and rocks, wasn’t. It’s highly evolved method of seed distribution involved detaching hundreds of the damn things with adhesive and micro-hairs. It had obviously been waiting years patiently for some idiot to sit on it, and wasn’t going to miss the chance.

So, my arrival in Alagón required an emergency visit to the Pharmacist for a pair of eyebrow-tweezers and a solid hour extracting spiky seeds from my shorts and my ‘person’, for want of a better euphemism. It’s a good job I’m still reasonably flexible and I packed my reading-glasses.

All well at home, which is as it should be, Henry the Actual Dog in the dog hotel - slightly more expensive than my accomodation; and Mrs HtD continues towards full recovery; no doubt with the heating full-on. A small price to pay for being let off the lead on a regular basis.

Gallur tomorrow where the El Colono awaits; then the distance steps up.
If only! If only... if only I could record my guffaws! You are such a howl!
Ps or edit: and rightly so, that Mrs HtD would have the heating full on. 😈
 
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A slight mishap en-route
I’d trade your mishap for mine any day. I left Zaragoza with what I later figured out were tracks that had been recorded before the (at that time) new train station had been built. I wound up trapped in an endless mess of blocked-off dead ends, concrete barriers, barbed wire — it was awful. I later realized that the new exit from Zaragoza was simple and straightforward, but I had not experienced it that way.

I didn’t stay in Alagón (being a peregrina at that time who tried to stay in albergues, so I stayed in Torres de Berrelén), but I remember several beautiful mudéjar churches in Alagón. And the real benefit is that by cutting off 6 km from tomorrow’s walk to Gallur, you can probably arrive at the Colono in plenty of time to have a good menú del día.

Hoping you are finished with the tweezing operation.
 
Yes, the new exit from Zaragoza is splendid, a well-constructed riverside-path

The train station could be seen from orbit, it’s huge though largely uncontaminated by trains.

I’ve finished the tweezing; but the proof of my success, or otherwise, will come in the morning when I risk reinserting a tender portion of my anatomy into the danger area.

Dinner at the Los Angeles is fine - a menu del tarde, which is satisfactory at €15; although it reminds me that when the UK gave so much to the world (or took so much, depending on your perspective) the making of tea and decent butchery skills didn’t make the shortlist. My thin beef chop, whilst tasty enough, obviously came from an animal which wasn’t giving up easily.

There must be two menus; whilst I was trying to figure out how one could slice so thinly from a huge, and obviously old, animal the chap next to me had just taken delivery of a steak that should have been a two-man lift. I probably need to start dressing better.

There are three or more Mudéjar churches here, one of the largest - San Antonio - with a possible early Goya. They’re brick-built on a first course of stone. One which I can just see, but cannot name, has a tower of Islamic design, although I was told it was built by Muslim builders (I’d insert a Duke of Edinburgh quote here, but best not) but wasn’t part of a mosque.
 
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I guess much depends on what you ask for. I thought I’d requested a beef chop: inch thick maybe, L shaped bone, a cut near the T bone perhaps…IMG_2268.jpeg

The resulting near 1kg of Galician ex-cow lasted two days and the bone would’ve made a serious beef-tea if I’d had a pot and some inclination

Edit: I’d been giving my best at that for some time before I decided it needed a permanent record
 
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Join the Camino cleanup. Logroño to Burgos May 2025 & Astorga to OCebreiro in June
OK, let’s rewind a few hours.

I was delayed in leaving Alogòn as the entire population was asleep through to 0815; including - critically - the chap assigned to breakfast duty. I suspected that catering en-route may fall short of Google maps extravagant claims, and I was right. Nothing doing until the Bar Totti in Luceni at Km13.

Before that an early underpass under the autovía was flooded by 15cm. Not a problem for a boot-wearer, but trail-runners would have to scale and cross the road if not equipped with plastic bags

The views of the river were good, but few even though it’s close at hand.

The walking was tough. Only 21k and flat, but 70% tarmac. Hard on the feet and knees.

As a slight change from everywhere in Spain claiming a Don Quixote association, round here it’s Sancho Panza. In the novel he was given the governorship of the area hereabouts, if I’ve read the signs correctly. I bought a copy years ago, but could barely lift it let alone read it.

Finally Gallur came into view. It’s flat as a pancake so - slightly at variance with another thread - it was vaguely visible from 6km away, and didn’t seem to get any closer for quite a while. On the last stretch, dead straight tarmac, I did what I hardly ever do and put a podcast on (This is Politics US edition. I’ve no skin in that game, but if that was the UK we wouldn’t be worrying about who bought the prime minister’s trousers).

Per previous posts my destination was the lauded cuisine of El Colono, a modest place with a well-occupied comedor. In a reversal of last night’s fortunes, huevos rotos con ibérico; solomillo (very rare) con salsa Roquefort y padrones and a casero tarta de queso were accompanied by a decent vino de casa, agua y café. €28 plus decent tip.

The accommodation on the other hand falls short of expectations. It’s only €36, but the cleaning brush could use a few more bristles. The extractor in the baño will wake the dead which, given that it’s only going to be on whilst I’m awake is not an issue. I have explained that whoever’s in 201 is going to be mightily unhappy, but that’s how it is. (Edit: I left it on through lunch, using a supermarket loyalty card to bypass the electricity supply and it’s given up the ghost, which is an improvement, providing it doesn’t catch fire).

Right, I’m off to digest that little lot before I dar un paseo later and see what Gallur has to offer. Oh, I forgot; my hour’s worth of seed extraction was successful.

Tomorrow is (as usual) another day - but this one is advertised as just short of 40k to Tudela, which focuses the mind somewhat. I’ve certainly got the calories on-board and barring a call to the bomberos overnight, I’ll get the sleep. How my second-best knee will feel about it is another matter, but there’s no point dying with a perfect body. In my case that ship sailed long ago, but still.

Hasta mañana.
 
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The 2024 Camino guides will be coming out little by little. Here is a collection of the ones that are out so far.
Late update: having toured Gallur extensively I can confirm that the good folk of Toledo, Ohio have lost their Saturday night record for nothing whatsoever going on. Saturday at 1830 and there’s not a bar or cafe operating. I don’t need any food, though - and may not for quite some time

However; I’ve now gone so far as the municipal albergue - which is well out of town next to the lovely new train station (again not overly troubled by actual trains) - to find that the albergue is splendid, and has a bar. It is, however, devoid of peregrinos - to the extent that when I solicited a sello the camarera had to explain the concept of Camino to the small crowd of locals. I think the beer’s cheap.

I do know that my threads are long on food and drink and light on actual walking - but don’t judge me.
 
OK, let’s rewind a few hours.

I was delayed in leaving Alogòn as the entire population was asleep through to 0815; including - critically - the chap assigned to breakfast duty. I suspected that catering en-route may fall short of Google maps extravagant claims, and I was right. Nothing doing until the Bar Totti in Luceni at Km13.

Before that an early underpass under the autovía was flooded by 15cm. Not a problem for a boot-wearer, but trail-runners would have to scale and cross the road if not equipped with plastic bags

The views of the river were good, but few even though it’s close at hand.

The walking was tough. Only 21k and flat, but 70% tarmac. Hard on the feet and knees.

As a slight change from everywhere in Spain claiming a Don Quixote association, round here it’s Sancho Panza. In the novel he was given the governorship of the area hereabouts, if I’ve read the signs correctly. I bought a copy years ago, but could barely lift it let alone read it.

Finally Gallur came into view. It’s flat as a pancake so - slightly at variance with another thread - it was vaguely visible from 6km away, and didn’t seem to get any closer for quite a while. On the last stretch, dead straight tarmac, I did what I hardly ever do and put a podcast on (This is Politics US edition. I’ve no skin in that game, but if that was the UK we wouldn’t be worrying about who bought the prime minister’s trousers).

Per previous posts my destination was the lauded cuisine of El Colono, a modest place with a well-occupied comedor. In a reversal of last night’s fortunes, huevos rotos con ibérico; solomillo (very rare) con salsa Roquefort y padrones and a casero tarta de queso were accompanied by a decent vino de casa, agua y café. €28 plus decent tip.

The accommodation on the other hand falls short of expectations. It’s only €36, but the cleaning brush could use a few more bristles. The extractor in the baño will wake the dead which, given that it’s only going to be on whilst I’m awake is not an issue. I have explained that whoever’s in 201 is going to be mightily unhappy, but that’s how it is. (Edit: I left it on through lunch, using a supermarket loyalty card to bypass the electricity supply and it’s given up the ghost, which is an improvement, providing it doesn’t catch fire).

Right, I’m off to digest that little lot before I dar un paseo later and see what Gallur has to offer. Oh, I forgot; my hour’s worth of seed extraction was successful.

Tomorrow is (as usual) another day - but this one is advertised as just short of 40k to Tudela, which focuses the mind somewhat. I’ve certainly got the calories on-board and barring a call to the bomberos overnight, I’ll get the sleep. How my second-best knee will feel about it is another matter, but there’s no point dying with a perfect body. In my case that ship sailed long ago, but still.

Hasta mañana.
HtD - just want to tell you that I am enjoying your posts enormously. Not only informative but warm too and you bring the towns and bars to life. Brilliant stuff!
 
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A selection of Camino Jewellery
Hey! It looks like you'll walk by the river just before Fontellas. Do we get a picture?
 
Loving this. Keep on keeping on, @henrythedog.

What appeared to be a nice soft friendly plant amongst the twigs and rocks, wasn’t. It’s highly evolved method of seed distribution involved detaching hundreds of the damn things with adhesive and micro-hairs. It had obviously been waiting years patiently for some idiot to sit on it, and wasn’t going to miss the chance.
OK, so did you by any chance get a photo of the offending vegetation so the rest of us can steer clear? Glad your operation was successful!
 
Well that’s another day nobody can take away from me.

The good folk of Gallur were, unusually for Spain, early to bed, but equally early to rise. The bars were busy at 0700 and I managed a couple of coffees and a kilo, or thereabouts, of excellent fresh tortilla. In the finest traditions of Spanish trabajadores my companions, largely refuse collectors, were starting the day with a large glass of brandy before a shift of operating unguarded heavy machinery.

The food at El Colono was excellent - but only open at (Spanish) lunchtime yesterday. Best check before relying on it. In fact I saw nowhere in Gallur with food in the evening apart from an itinerant churros van.

This was always going to be a marathon day.

The route continues to largely avoid the river and instead follows the Canal Imperial - where the towpath is easier walking than tarmac.

Mallen is large enough to be open 7/7 and is another peaceful small town with a nice church either extended repeatedly or designed by an indecisive architect, but I didn’t have time to investigate.

At Cortes (Km 12’ish) I decided to stick with the canal through to Ribaforada. The official route looked to be another dead-straight tarmac road, although my choice probably added a couple of Km. The canal finishes near Fontellas where it joins the river. I forgot to take a photo, but I’ve got an earlier and later one to try to add. ( I’ve never got the hang of ‘thumbnails’ so hopefully one of the mods will sort that out).

Ribaforada was also open for business. I just stopped for a couple of scoops then ploughed on.

It’s been warming up all day and at 27c it was getting a bit oppressive. A short shower of rain cleared the air and wasn’t enough to put a jacket on for. Too hot anyway.

The last stretch into Tudela follows the railway line, which must be the safest bit of Spanish infrastructure ever as I’ve barely seen it in use.

Tudela seems huge and busy. As it’s Sunday the cathedral was closed (!) as was the turismo. The joy was rapidly disappearing from the day at this point. There are many intermediate stops on this route, there’s really no need for long days, I’m just making the most of a short opportunity.

After nearly 44Km, damp, dusty and smelling like a polecat I staggered into tonight’s lodgings, the Hotel Remegio. The smart young recepcionistas finger was hovering over the Guarda Civil speed-dial until I produced a functioning credit card. I really need to give some thought to my appearance whilst walking (I do change into something passably decent for the evening)

I seem to have picked up a fair crop of mosquito bites yesterday near the river. If the flora doesn’t get you the fauna will. A particularly tenacious insect seems to have bypassed my Lycra shorts (there’s also a loose outer-short so as to not get me arrested) and had its fill. That’s not a part of my anatomy many would volunteer to get close to after todays walk, I assure you.

I haven’t done that distance with a rucksack since I was in the pay of her late Majesty many years ago and single-handedly staring-down the might of the Warsaw pact across the East German plains; and I’m not in a hurry to repeat it. A long shower and some precautionary ibuprofen has me feeling more human and I’ll see what delights Tudela has to offer.

The photos (assuming I succeed) in no particular order include the confluence of the Rios Ebro and Arba in Gallur, a previous river view somewhere near Cabanas de Ebro and the door of the Cathedral in Tudela with an extensive ‘Day of Judgement’. I’ve just focussed on the interesting side with the usual devils attending to the sinners. They could have dispensed with all that rectally-inserted ironmongery and just made the sinners have a nice sit-down on the local plants, the effect’s similar.

The Remigio is a bit smart, but not unreasonably expensive, and does promise breakfast from 0700. The room’s small but spotless. I can barely move for notices setting out their environmental credencials - but have they got a plug in the tiny designer sink? Of course not.

For those who complain of heat, crowds, bed races and menu peregrinos my view is you’re walking the wrong route at the wrong time of year. This one (like many of the less frequented routes) is superb. Speaking a bit of Spanish is close to a necessity though - even though I look like a cartoon Brit on holiday, nobody has ventured English to me; not a word.

An update on catering follows in due course, but I’m not planning to go far.

If I do see the earlier offending plant again I’ll get a photo from a safe distance.

IMG_2158.jpeg

IMG_2160.jpeg

IMG_2145.jpeg

IMG_2153.jpeg
 
Holoholo automatically captures your footpaths, places, photos, and journals.
@henrythedog, you have well and truly missed your calling ! Thoroughly enjoying your posts, very humorous. It's the little details that I love: the train station "largely uncontaminated by trains.", the church with its "indecisive architect" .
A little work and you could rival Terry Pratchett....

It's good that your micro hair removal operation was successful; should you ever be so unfortunate to come across something similar again you might find sellotape helps. (We have a couple of plants in New Zealand that appear similarly innocuous but are far from it).
And whilst you may choose to carry your recently acquired tweezers henceforth should you want something smaller and lighter for your first aid kit the tweezers from Swiss Army knives are readily available as a spare part, they're small, light, cheap and exceptionally good.

Looking forward to your next post!
 
My father once fell backwards onto a cactus while hunting and a hunting buddy had to help him remove the spines, although all they had was a pair of needle nosed pliers...

They both got so tickled at the absurdity of my father with his bare rump exposed out in the wide open spaces of rural Wyoming and with his occasional yelps of pain when his friend accidently took a bit of hide with the extracted spines that they dissolved into laughter and the job took twice as long as needed.

Be glad @henrythedog, that you sourced a tweezer and were able to conduct your operation in the privacy of your room alone instead of in the treeless prairie with a friend armed with pliers.
 
Well, thanks to my ever-reliable advisor @SabsP I find myself on Calle Carnecerias , where - being Sunday - it’s a bit sparse. It’s also pouring-down.

After a couple of false-starts elsewhere (open beats not-open, regardless of the reviews) I’m in the cheese-specialist Bar 17 Cortes which is excellent. I’ve worked my way from ‘what do you recommend’ to ‘unchain cheese number six’ and I’ll have to move on shortly.

Shortly …

I gave up.

It’s Sunday and the highly-regarded local competition have taken the night off and after today, so should I.

24k or thereabouts to Castejón tomorrow, which should be splendid.
 
Get a spanish phone number with Airalo. eSim, so no physical SIM card. Easy to use app to add more funds if needed.
Well, in retrospect - now that I’m 24km distant (in Alfaro) I think Tudela deserves another chance.

I arrived on a Sunday close to 1700hrs when even the most traditional of the lunchtime clientele had called for the bill. I survived off ample reserves of stored fat through to 20:00 when - in terms of catering - nothing happened. The choices were a ‘cheese and wine’ specialist - which was excellent but expensive; a pulperia* and a clutch of freezer and microwave outlets.

The cathedral was closed whilst the whole town seemed busy and noisy.

I’d be very ungrateful and wrong to write Tudela off, but Sunday’s not the best day.

The hotel was fine, but breakfast forgettable.

So off we go to Alfaro.

A mix of tarmac and gravel senda, under overcast sky at about 23 degrees throughout. Ideal mosquito conditions unfortunately - and as the only peregrino in evidence - I was on the menu,

It’s a massive produce growing area; to the left maize as far as the eye can see, and cabbages to the right - as prescribed by Rodrick Spode (@Peterexpatkiwi - that’s for you) and later commercial apple orchards where I was astounded by the proportion of rejects - obviously not to supermarket standard - discarded on the floor to rot.

In terms of route, I’d already spotted that ‘keeping straight on’ at the small chemical plant, rather than taking the riverside route, would save a couple of Km and after yesterday’s effort, I was OK with that. At the junction I found the Camino sign went the shorter way anyway.

Waymarking is OK - sufficient so long as you have a decent idea where you’re going. In towns though it’s well signed - I think the Ajuntamiento budget is spent where the voters can see it. Plus cą change.

I didn’t stop until Castejón, where I made use of every facility on offer in a pleasant little town which has obviously expanded recently.

I patronised the farmacia - repelente de insectos (el más fuerte) y crema para picaduras de insecto, un tubo grande.

Also second breakfast of torreznos y cerveza and a sello from the very helpful ajuntamieno (also very well-signed, probably with the residual funds from the Camino sign budget).

Another 5km at a slower pace got me to Alfaro. A bit scruffy, so I feel at home.

I’m in the Hotel HM Alfaro (one dim star) with the only obviously open restaurant al fundo - and without a trace of irony, also called ‘Al Fundo’. The €13 menu del dia was attended by 20+ locals all better dressed than I, though that’s a low bar to clear even though I’ve showered and changed. It was good: a paella which wasn’t going to be ‘casera’, but was; turkey, which arrived as pork - but was fine, and a casero flan which wasn’t. The wine was decent and the camarera efficient.

The hotel is actually excellent. Basic, but modern, clean and well-staffed. That’s all anywhere has to do to get praise from me - exceed my expectations, no matter the star rating.

The big tourist draw here are the storks. I like storks and there are nests everywhere, although in another masterstroke of timing the actual storks are currently in Africa.

I shall now do some long overdue laundry, apply the farmacias products copiously and comment on the evening’s attractions in due course.


*(Ah yes, the stray asterisk by ‘pulperia’. I don’t eat octopus on principle - and I haven’t got many of those. I’m far from veggie and I used to shoot and eat my own game - and would again if ever needed, but it no longer sits comfortably with me as recreation. I never would have shot a hare and I’ll never eat pulpo - I know all animals have character; but some more than others.

I met an octopus in Corsica years ago, in an aquarium regrettably - but better that than a kitchen; I shook hands / tentacle with it. There was a plank with a brick on the top of the octopus tank as it had figured out how to - at night - climb out of it’s own tank, scurry across the floor and into other tanks, eat the occupants and return home before the staff arrived. It was only rumbled when someone finally spotted the wet tentacle-prints across the floor. Since then I’m firmly on the side of the octopuses.)
 
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Well, in retrospect - now that I’m 24km distant (in Alfaro) I think Tudela deserves another chance.

I arrived on a Sunday close to 1700hrs when even the most traditional of the lunchtime clientele had called for the bill. I survived off ample reserves of stored fat through to 20:00 when - in terms of catering - nothing happened. The choices were a ‘cheese and wine’ specialist - which was excellent but expensive; a pulperia* and a clutch of freezer and microwave outlets.

The cathedral was closed whilst the whole town seemed busy and noisy.

I’d be very ungrateful and wrong to write Tudela off, but Sunday’s not the best day.

The hotel was fine, but breakfast forgettable.

So off we go to Alfaro.

A mix of tarmac and gravel senda, under overcast sky at about 23 degrees throughout. Ideal mosquito conditions unfortunately - and as the only peregrino in evidence - I was on the menu,

It’s a massive produce growing area; to the left maize as far as the eye can see, and cabbages to the right - as prescribed by Rodrick Spode (@Peterexpatkiwi - that’s for you) and later commercial apple orchards where I was astounded by the proportion of rejects - obviously not to supermarket standard - discarded on the floor to rot.

In terms of route, I’d already spotted that ‘keeping straight on’ at the small chemical plant, rather than taking the riverside route, would save a couple of Km and after yesterday’s effort, I was OK with that. At the junction I found the Camino sign went the shorter way anyway.

Waymarking is OK - sufficient so long as you have a decent idea where you’re going. In towns though it’s well signed - I think the Ajuntamiento budget is spent where the voters can see it. Plus cą change.

I didn’t stop until Castejón, where I made use of every facility on offer in a pleasant little town which has obviously expanded recently.

I patronised the farmacia - repelente de insectos (el más fuerte) y crema para picaduras de insecto, un tubo grande.

Also second breakfast of torreznos y cerveza and a sello from the very helpful ajuntamieno (also very well-signed, probably with the residual funds from the Camino sign budget).

Another 5km at a slower pace got me to Alfaro. A bit scruffy, so I feel at home.

I’m in the Hotel HM Alfaro (one dim star) with the only obviously open restaurant Al Fundo - and without a trace of irony, also called ‘Al Fundo’. The €13 menu del dia was attended by 20+ locals all better dressed than I, and that’s a low bar to clear even though I’ve showered and changed. It was good: a paella which wasn’t going to be ‘casera’, but was; turkey, which arrived as pork - but was fine, and a casero flan which wasn’t. The wine was fine and the camarera efficient.

The hotel is actually excellent. Basic, but modern, clean and well-staffed. That’s all anywhere has to do to get praise from me - exceed my expectations, no matter the star rating.

The big tourist draw here are the storks. I like storks and there are nests everywhere, although in another masterstroke of timing the actual storks are currently in Africa.

I shall now do some long overdue laundry, apply the farmacias products copiously and comment on the evening’s attractions in due course.


*(Ah yes, the stray asterisk by ‘pulperia’. I don’t eat octopus on principle - and I haven’t got many of those. I’m far from veggie and I used to shoot and eat my own game - and would again if ever needed, but it no longer sits comfortably with me as recreation. I never would have shot a hare and I’ll never eat pulpo - I know all animals have character; but some more than others.

I met an octopus in Corsica years ago, in an aquarium regrettably - but better that than a kitchen; I shook hands / tentacle with it. There was a plank with a brick on the top of the octopus tank as it had figured out how to - at night - climb out of it’s own tank, scurry across the floor and into other tanks, eat the occupants and return home before the staff arrived. It was only rumbled when someone finally spotted the wet tentacle-prints across the floor. Since then I’m firmly on the side of the octopuses.)
 
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Well, Alfaro is not awash with cash - but seems like a decent functioning community. It’s in the middle of pretty intensive agriculture and I doubt that generates much local employment. Still - the same €20 euro note circulates from the bar to the butcher to the hairdresser.

Gastronomy is not a major attraction but, with a menu del dia on-board it’s not an issue. There are several good bars open, some doing platos combinados.

Having little else to make a fuss of, the locals have designated themselves stork specialists. There are nests everywhere including (if I’ve succeeded) all over the roof of the central church.

One slightly unkind review I read said there were not enough storks in Spain to make it worth visiting Alfaro. I disagree, it’s alright here. Spain’s not all flamenco and sangria after all.

I just found, whilst unpacking my bumper-fun pack of repellant and bite treatment that the farmacista had included a card #no caminas sola, intended for peregrinas rather than peregrinos, helpfully flagging the alert cops app, 112 for emergencies and 016 for violence against women. Gender based violence seems to be getting serious attention in Spain. Even quite small places I’ve passed through have signs at the boundaries stating their commitment to various related initiatives.

IMG_2169.jpeg
 
Late update: having toured Gallur extensively I can confirm that the good folk of Toledo, Ohio have lost their Saturday night record for nothing whatsoever going on. Saturday at 1830 and there’s not a bar or cafe operating. I don’t need any food, though - and may not for quite some time

However; I’ve now gone so far as the municipal albergue - which is well out of town next to the lovely new train station (again not overly troubled by actual trains) - to find that the albergue is splendid, and has a bar. It is, however, devoid of peregrinos - to the extent that when I solicited a sello the camarera had to explain the concept of Camino to the small crowd of locals. I think the beer’s cheap.

I do know that my threads are long on food and drink and light on actual walking - but don’t judge me.
We were at the Gallur albergue 5 days ago. The trains were coming and going all night, but could barely hear them over the wind and rain.
Woke up to sunshine and on to Borja for us. Buen camino!
 
Perfect memento/gift in a presentation box. Engraving available, 25 character max.
You’ll have gathered by now that I don’t do two-line reviews. I find this theraputic, and it keeps me out of the pub a while longer

I turned up for breakfast about 0710 to see a queue of of fellow guests, peripatetic telephone engineers and tree-merchants (French, x2), filing out with an obvious air of resignation; it was clear that the day was not starting well for them.

All became clear on entering the comedor as the duty camarera informed me ‘nos se ha estropeado la tostadora’ - the toaster was broken, and that’s critical for Spanish breakfast. Whilst the English conveys the bare fact, the Spanish version delivered in a low monotone, gaze lowered, hands out front, palms up more accurately conveys the sense of helplessness, disappointment and consequence from the literal phrase ‘the toaster has broken itself and we are affected’. The Spanish language gives a sense that an unknown third-party is responsible for anything that goes wrong.

Pre-empting the obvious question I was told that the remaining breakfast items were, today, free of charge. That consisted of a cup of average coffee and two small pre-packed cakes, which used to require only four ingredients but now need both sides of the pack to list and which have a ‘use by’ date sufficient that you could safely leave one in your will and it wouldn’t expire.

It’s foggy. That’s unusual, but often a sign of a fine day.

Alfaro in the morning is nice - the time when everyone’s getting up and opening for business is my favourite.

The first 2k out of town are alongside the main road, but then we’re off into the campo. In fact, more so than expected as there’s a long-standing well-signed diversion through the fields on a decent track. The signage has just become more conspicuous - not the almost-touching signs of the Frances, but a distinct change.

It’s a great walk. Some agricultural folks out and about with pears, vines and artichokes the main crops. One chap, in the middle of nowhere, collecting snails.

The sun’s out and the fog’s gone. I’m drenched in an entire pack of citronella and probably wiping-out pollinating insects as I pass.

Now then: artichokes and snails

I get it with snails - they cover the verges of every path in their thousands. It was only a matter of time before someone said: ‘Oh go on then, put a load of garlic on, they’ll probably be OK’ - but artichokes?

I’m not unfamiliar with artichokes, although they’re not regularly on the menu chez HtD; they’re a giant thistle. 99% of the plant is discarded at harvest, leaving the unripe flower bud, from which we progressively strip the outer part until we can nibble a fraction of the inner leaves if dipped in enough mayo or hollandaise to satisfy Belgian taste. They must have been a status-symbol like pineapples, not a response to starvation as I expect caracoles were.

Rincon del Soto is visible, as expected, 4km away. Happily I pass an Electrodomésticos store in the outskirts, so if Mossad have blown up all the toasters someone’s had time to nip out and buy another.

Rincon de Soto’s thing is (or are) pears. They’re everywhere, including on the sellos and the mascot is seated on the square. (Photo)

Second breakfast on the square then a protracted visit to the Ajuntamiento for a pear-themed-sello, and off we go to Calahorra, where I get a definite sense that this is where the money is.

Easy walking, but far enough for the day. About 25km in all.

Straight to the Parador. Yes, you did read that correctly- the Parador. I’m surprised, you’re probably surprised - but we’re jointly in a distant second place to the refined staff and guests who look as though Hagrid has just burst into the Vicar’s tea-party and loudly broken wind.

I can’t fully explain; it must be algorithms (whatever they are) - some combination of a longstanding but unused ‘amigos’ membership; accumulated Booking points (which I assumed were just issued to create some false sense of achievement) and Kim Jong-Un and Elon Musk knowing my precise location and intent. So, through email a few days ago popped up an invite to a Parador stay for €50, and I couldn’t argue with that. The algorithms obviously don’t allow for appearance, odor or alcohol consumption but that’s their look-out.

I thought the room was a bit on the small side, but that was just my entrance-hall. It’s rather nice - or it was until I’d disrobed and unpacked when it looked like a total bin.

Horrifically, there’s a full length mirror and, just out of the shower, the extent of my mosquito bites was obvious. It was only my rucksack straps which have saved my torso - otherwise it’s bad. Very bad. (Photo with parental advisory)

Straight down the the Farmacia again for some hydrocortisone tablets. On being asked the purpose I just pulled up a sleeve of my t-shirt, the young assistant shrieked and uttered something fairly obscene and gathered the entire staff for an opinion. I should get a loyalty card.

Still, we can’t let that spoil the day.

It’s a nice town. The Ajuntamiento was busy on reopening and I had to take a numbered ticket and wait my turn for a sello.

I’ll check-in with Mrs HtD then have a stroll to the cathedral - the opening hours being a matter of debate - then I’m dining at the Parador where I assume the special offer room price will be eclipsed by the food and drink bill.

Barring the obvious, it’s all going rather well.

More later.

IMG_2176.jpegIMG_2171.jpeg
 
You’ll have gathered by now that I don’t do two-line reviews. I find this theraputic, and it keeps me out of the pub a while longer

I turned up for breakfast about 0710 to see a queue of of fellow guests, peripatetic telephone engineers and tree-merchants (French, x2), filing out with an obvious air of resignation; it was clear that the day was not starting well for them.

All became clear on entering the comedor as the duty camarera informed me ‘nos se ha estropeado la tostadora’ - the toaster was broken, and that’s critical for Spanish breakfast. Whilst the English conveys the bare fact, the Spanish version delivered in a low monotone, gaze lowered, hands out front, palms up more accurately conveys the sense of helplessness, disappointment and consequence from the literal phrase ‘the toaster has broken itself and we are affected’. The Spanish language gives a sense that an unknown third-party is responsible for anything that goes wrong.

Pre-empting the obvious question I was told that the remaining breakfast items were, today, free of charge. That consisted of a cup of average coffee and two small pre-packed cakes, which used to require only four ingredients but now need both sides of the pack to list and which have a ‘use by’ date sufficient that you could safely leave one in your will and it wouldn’t expire.

It’s foggy. That’s unusual, but often a sign of a fine day.

Alfaro in the morning is nice - the time when everyone’s getting up and opening for business is my favourite.

The first 2k out of town are alongside the main road, but then we’re off into the campo. In fact, more so than expected as there’s a long-standing well-signed diversion through the fields on a decent track. The signage has just become more conspicuous - not the almost-touching signs of the Frances, but a distinct change.

It’s a great walk. Some agricultural folks out and about with pears, vines and artichokes the main crops. One chap, in the middle of nowhere, collecting snails.

The sun’s out and the fog’s gone. I’m drenched in an entire pack of citronella and probably wiping-out pollinating insects as I pass.

Now then: artichokes and snails

I get it with snails - they cover the verges of every path in their thousands. It was only a matter of time before someone said: ‘Oh go on then, put a load of garlic on, they’ll probably be OK’ - but artichokes?

I’m not unfamiliar with artichokes, although they’re not regularly on the menu chez HtD; they’re a giant thistle. 99% of the plant is discarded at harvest, leaving the unripe flower bud, from which we progressively strip the outer part until we can nibble a fraction of the inner leaves if dipped in enough mayo or hollandaise to satisfy Belgian taste. They must have been a status-symbol like pineapples, not a response to starvation as I expect caracoles were.

Rincon del Soto is visible, as expected, 4km away. Happily I pass an Electrodomésticos store in the outskirts, so if Mossad have blown up all the toasters someone’s had time to nip out and buy another.

Rincon de Soto’s thing is (or are) pears. They’re everywhere, including on the sellos and the mascot is seated on the square. (Photo)

Second breakfast on the square then a protracted visit to the Ajuntamiento for a pear-themed-sello, and off we go to Calahorra, where I get a definite sense that this is where the money is.

Easy walking, but far enough for the day. About 25km in all.

Straight to the Parador. Yes, you did read that correctly- the Parador. I’m surprised, you’re probably surprised - but we’re jointly in a distant second place to the refined staff and guests who look as though Hagrid has just burst into the Vicar’s tea-party and loudly broken wind.

I can’t fully explain; it must be algorithms (whatever they are) - some combination of a longstanding but unused ‘amigos’ membership; accumulated Booking points (which I assumed were just issued to create some false sense of achievement) and Kim Jong-Un and Elon Musk knowing my precise location and intent. So, through email a few days ago popped up an invite to a Parador stay for €50, and I couldn’t argue with that. The algorithms obviously don’t allow for appearance, odor or alcohol consumption but that’s their look-out.

I thought the room was a bit on the small side, but that was just my entrance-hall. It’s rather nice - or it was until I’d disrobed and unpacked when it looked like a total bin.

Horrifically, there’s a full length mirror and, just out of the shower, the extent of my mosquito bites was obvious. It was only my rucksack straps which have saved my torso - otherwise it’s bad. Very bad. (Photo with parental advisory)

Straight down the the Farmacia again for some hydrocortisone tablets. On being asked the purpose I just pulled up a sleeve of my t-shirt, the young assistant shrieked and uttered something fairly obscene and gathered the entire staff for an opinion. I should get a loyalty card.

Still, we can’t let that spoil the day.

It’s a nice town. The Ajuntamiento was busy on reopening and I had to take a numbered ticket and wait my turn for a sello.

I’ll check-in with Mrs HtD then have a stroll to the cathedral - the opening hours being a matter of debate - then I’m dining at the Parador where I assume the special offer room price will be eclipsed by the food and drink bill.

Barring the obvious, it’s all going rather well.

More later.
Such an antidote to the mundane here at home. Tanx.😈
 
You’ll have gathered by now that I don’t do two-line reviews. I find this theraputic, and it keeps me out of the pub a while longer

@henrythedog, your most recent post sets a new standard for your already very high level of humor, irony, insight, self-deprecation, and the odd bit here and there that shows appreciation and understanding of Spanish culture.

Loving this thread — especially since I turned right at Gallur and don’t know this stretch to Logroño. Buen camino!
 
Get a spanish phone number with Airalo. eSim, so no physical SIM card. Easy to use app to add more funds if needed.
So, the Parador.

As I’ve said previously all you have to do to impress me is exceed my expectations. My preferred haunt these days woukd be a family-operated 0,1 or 2*. When working - and clearly not paying for myself - it would be Paradores or local equivalent, but that’s a lifetime ago.

So - screw four stars to the facade and buy the doorman a peaked cap, and you’re probably heading for a fall.

Actually, it was fine. The room excellent, the staff well trained and efficient and the food good enough
 
Last edited:
A selection of Camino Jewellery
 
First some missing notes from last night:

The Parador was good. Spacious, well located and with very professional staff. It’s certainly an option I would go for if Mrs HtD was here and if staying more than one night. The massive room and view are wasted on me for a simple overnight with an early start.

Also: solo dining and Spanish cuisine does have its issues. Literally eating my own words, I had the portion of artichokes to start last night. It consisted entirely of artichokes (logically, I suppose) and was vast. Best shared.

Then on we go:

Decision time now after an expansive breakfast. The downside of an opportunistic quick trip is that the ‘to and from’ logistics consume a fair proportion of the time, and I have to make Logroño tonight to get to Bilbao tomorrow for a dawn flight on Friday and it’s 54Km, so that’s not happening entirely on foot.

The 19km to Alcandre looks to be more of the same (which is far from a bad thing) but with no intermediate stops, so that will be by bus. There is a train line, but it’s more decorative than functional. The early train is long gone and the later train is much later. So I’ll splash out the €1.60 with Señores Jiminez on a 15-minute bus ride.

Quick coffee in Alcandre and off we go. No sello available as the staff in the little Ajuntamiento seem to have gone out for a coffee also. I was probably sat next to them.

Vineyards and olive groves (I haven’t noticed those so far) and more fields of vegetables. Nice and cool and overcast. Drenched in citronella again and the worst areas of picadura inflammation seem to have resolved into individual bites which, thankfully are not irritating.

Arrubal provided another coffee in Los Amigos (only opened at 1030), and there were several options in smaller Agoncillo, but I carried on through. Close to the river, but it’s not often in sight.

It’s as close to raining as it gets without actually raining. Dark skies and a blustery wind. With any luck I’ll have packed waterproofs and an extra warm layer without needing them, which is better than the alternative.

Now the airport’s close-by and I’m parallel to the main road into Logroño. That might have been another option, but at the limit of my ability - walk to the airport then taxi into town. Still, the bus was good.

And I’m here. I know I’m on the Frances as I’ve just been offered my first menu peregrino, in English.

The evening will be in Logroño, where I’ve been many times before, but not on Calle Laurel which I feel is over-rated and over-crowded, but on Calle San Juan which is similar but has slightly more Logroñeses than tourists.

The end.

Regards

David.

A few summary notes.

It’s a great route. The walking’s not difficult. There are some tarmac stretches, but not to excess. The majority is on a canal path or farm tracks of compacted gravel. The tierra here is reddish very fine soil, which does encroach on the path from time to time. After prolonged rain it would be very muddy - but you needn’t leave the route.

Some ability to speak some Spanish beyond greetings and civilities is, in my opinion, necessary. I’ve invested a lot of time in my Spanish - after 50 learning another language is difficult, but it transforms the experience.

It’s quite possible to do 20/25km days. I’ve walked six days Zaragoza to Logroño, including one 44km day and one short bus-ride, so seven would have been better, eight would make it leisurely. There are just a couple of stretches where you can go 15-20km with no intermediate facilities.

The presence of a bar on Google maps is not definitive and the opening hours can be incorrect

At this time of year you can be lucky - or not - with the weather. I’d always pack waterproofs.

Important: **** use insect repellant **** the parts between the river and the canal had a lot of mosquitos, but they have all just eaten (me) so may be dormant for the next couple of weeks.

Waymarking is often sparse, but adequate; often at critical junctions but not just so as to ‘reassure’ unnecessarily. The route on mapy.cz is correct, and really excellent. The guidebook I’ve used is ‘Camino Catalan’ by Callum J Christie, which is available in English on Amazon. I’m using the Spanish version. I’ll be using that book for quite some time. If you’re going the other way there is a pack of maps and descriptions available for the Ebro, only in Spanish. It’s not necessary.

I’ve seen only three other peregrinos in six days; all following the ‘correct’ Ruta del Ebro from source to sea, not the reverse which I’m on towards Santiago. There are some albergue municipales - at least one in Gallur to a very high standard, but I stayed in inexpensive private accommodation, except one unusual night in a Parador.

There is an option to use the train between numerous points, but the times would entail half a non-walking day or very early rising.

There are no menu peregrinos to be had, thankfully, but the menu del dias are excellent.

Highly recommended. It’s like the Frances was - off season - 12 years ago.

(If nobody objects I’ll ask the mods to delete some of the kind replies and 1-1 conversation in due course, leaving the more route-orientated notes for future reference)
 
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