Camino Day 10: When the Pilgrim’s Path Diverts: Logroño to Nájera

The Joy of Return to the Camino

The morning sun rose with promise as my feet carried me forward along the Camino. After three nights of forced rest in Logroño, battling illness and fever, my body finally allowed me to resume my journey. Little did I know that fate had conspired to test not my body but my spirit on this day of my pilgrimage.

I walked with a rekindled excitement that surprised even me. The joy of movement, of simply being able to place one foot before the other, filled me with gratitude I hadn’t felt at the beginning of my journey. Each step was a celebration, each kilometer a gift after the stagnation of illness. I moved with lightness, my backpack sent ahead to await my arrival, my shoulders unburdened as I merged with the rhythm of the Camino once more.

Renewed Appreciation for the Camino Landscape

The morning air was crisp, the landscape opening before me like a blessing. Sunday’s early light cast long shadows as I left Logroño behind, the city reluctantly giving way to parks and then to the sprawling vineyards of Rioja. My eyes feasted on the terrain, stopping more often than before to simply absorb the beauty around me. This was the gift of my illness—a renewed appreciation for the journey itself, not just the destination.

Twenty-four kilometers passed beneath my feet, the rhythm of walking becoming a meditation against the backdrop of Spain’s golden landscape. My strength had returned, surprising me with its vigor. The absence of my backpack transformed my pace from four kilometers an hour to five, a small change that made a world of difference to my recovering body.

When Everyday Life Intrudes on the Pilgrim’s Journey

Then came the message that pierced my Sunday sacred mood – an unexpected intrusion from a former landlord attempting to claim more of my deposit than was due. The profane world bleeding into my sacred journey. Like smoke rising from God’s nose in ancient scripture, righteous anger stirred within me.

But this was merely the prelude to a further realization that would come. As I approached what I thought was my destination, a cold truth dawned – I had booked my accommodation and sent my backpack to Navarrete, a town I had long since passed. Now I stood at the edge of Nájera, the municipal albergue closed until mid-afternoon, with my possessions waiting kilometers behind me.

Navigating Mistakes on the Camino de Santiago

The ground seemed to shift beneath my feet. Tears threatened as the magnitude of my error became clear. The narrowing of my heart, the tightening of my throat – all physical manifestations of a mistake that would cost precious time and money on a journey where both were carefully measured.

I approached locals, my phone translating words my tongue could not form. The first faces turned away – wait for the albergue to open, they insisted. But waiting meant accepting defeat, accepting that I would fall further behind on my journey to Santiago, where my nephew’s first holy communion awaits me on the 15th of June. Time is not a luxury I possess.

Finding Help Along the Way

More faces, more attempts at communication. Finally, a kind soul pointed me toward the taxi stand. No taxis waited there, only numbers I could not call without Spanish to guide my words. The hotel stood empty. Doors closed before me, one after another.

Providence led me to a restaurant close by. The barman, though his English was limited, understood my desperate gestures. With the digital translator between us, he became my helper, calling a taxi service on my behalf. Thirty euros to Navarrete, thirty euros back – a pilgrim’s small fortune, but what choice remained?

While waiting, I called the albergue in Navarrete, the weight of apology heavy in my voice. My error should not cost them – perhaps another pilgrim could take my place, I suggested. If not, I would bear the financial burden of my mistake.

The Journey Back to Retrieve What Was Left Behind

The taxi arrived mercifully quickly. As we drove to Navarrete, I watched the landscape I had walked that morning blur past the window. The vineyards that had earlier been my companions in slow, thoughtful travel now raced by, the perspective altered by speed and circumstance.

In Navarrete, my backpack waited faithfully. The albergue keeper showed kindness in his eyes that transcended our language barrier. With my belongings recovered, we returned to Nájera, my heart heavy with the knowledge of time and resources spent correcting my error.

Unexpected Grace on the Camino

When I opened my wallet, prepared to pay the agreed sixty euros, unexpected grace appeared. The driver waved away half the amount – one journey only, he insisted. Thirty euros for my mistake – still a cost, but lessened by human compassion.

Back in Nájera, the albergue had opened, but a line of pilgrims stretched before the door. Fifty minutes I waited, watching others who had planned more carefully receive their beds before me. When finally my turn came, even the cold shower could not wash away the day’s lessons.

Note to Self

The Camino teaches through joy and through error. Today it taught me that even on a sacred journey, we remain human – capable of mistakes, dependent on the kindness of strangers, and always learning to carry our burdens with grace. Sometimes the path we walk is not the one we planned, but it is still our path, still our Camino.