I stayed with my friend Brian in Roland's albergue in Azofra in June 2003.
We entered the door, and seeing no one in sight, hollered up the stairs "Ola! Buenos Dias!". A big bearded man came lolloping down the stairs to greet us. Upon discovering our nationality he exclaimed "Begorrah! Bejaysus! It's a couple of Irish pilgrims!" It turns out he used to live in Crosshaven, not a million miles away from where we're from and could relate some dramatic tales of his romantic dalliances there.
He gave us a tour of his albergue, which as noted above, was like a beautifully appointed antique B&B. He recommended that we enjoy leisurely ablutions in his elegant bathrooms as he whisked our socks, which he compared to rare fungi, away to be washed in a real washing machine, which I believe was an unusual and welcome sight in those days of the Camino.
Once refreshed, he dispatched Brian to the local shop to pick up some lamb chops for our supper, ordering him not to accept anything less than the finest grade of meat from the notoriously canny shopkeeper. Of course, he was to be disappointed in this request and lambasted Brian for his timidity in the most good natured manner.
We enjoyed a delicious repaste of tomato salad and lamb chops. Then Roland bundled us into the his van and took us on a mini wine tasting tour of the local villages. I remember tumbling around in the back of the vehicle as a result of his exuberant cornering technique, but felt assured that he knew what he was doing.
In each bar we visited, Roland would order the wine, knowing the best choice to slake our pilgrim thirst and always demanding that a fresh bottle be opened for us. I think it was around 75 cents per glass and it was my introduction to the Joven wines of La Rioja. It was also my introduction to the very liberating Spanish practice of dumping paper napkins and cigarrete ash onto the sawdust floor, which would be swept later that evening, Roland assured us.
We swerved back to Azofra very late at night, but still in time for a nightcap at the local, where the commissioner of the peace and his ten or so cronies sent us over a round of drinks to welcome us to the village. We were obliged to return the compliment of course.
The next morning, all three of us had sore heads. After a substantial breakfast, Roland was in the middle of packing some hard boiled eggs and other goodies for our packed lunch when he spotted something outside the window.
"Quick!" he exclaimed, "There are four girls filling their bottles at the fountain. If you leave now you just might catch them!"
This final exhortation brought to a close one of the best adventures of our Camino, and marked the beginning of another.
I miss Roland.
) in 2002. 
