text:
Category: Ventosa
Azofra
{camino day 13} ventosa to azofra
wanderessence1025	April 21, 2019
It wasn't a long walk from Ventosa to Azofra, only 16km, or 10 miles, but it seemed to go on forever. The walk was through miles of vineyards with no shade, up and down and up again.
As we left Ventosa at 7:07 a.m., I chatted with cute blonde Bev from Houston, who I'd met at dinner the evening before. Her daughter was in Peru doing a shamanic journey of transformation with Ayahuasca, a sacred plant medicine revered for its healing and mystical properties. Bev was expecting a phone call from her that morning. She had told me at dinner last night that she had tried mushrooms, which she loved; she would do them again if given the opportunity. I told her of my loved one's interest in them, and how he'd given me Michael Pollan's book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence to read. I told her how my loved one reported that he heard voices and believed he was a shaman. She said she believes there is so much out there that we are not aware of and he could very possibly be a shaman! She believes the 20s are a time for figuring things out. I felt hopeful after our conversation.
Ventosa to Túnel N-120 (3.1 km)
Leaving Ventosa 7:39 a.m.
grapevines
Alto de San Antón (8:08 a.m.)
We crested a hill at Alto de San Antón and a while later stopped to admire a reconstructed chozo, a stone hut for storing agricultural implements, near Poyo de Roldán, or Roldán's Hill. A sign said this was the scene of one of the first legends of the Road to Santiago. It marked the spot where the knight Roldán slew the Syrian giant Ferragut, said to be nine feet tall. His nose span was said to be the "length and strength of four men."
The fight took place in the esplanade between Nájera's castle and Alesón's watchtower. After hours of battle between the two fighters on horseback, Roldán and Ferragut agreed to a truce. The giant told him he had great courage and offered to finish the combat but Roldán rejected the offer.
The battle continued two days between the knights. The giant fell over Roldán trapping him under his two hundred kilos of weight. Roldán believed that Ferragut's only vulnerable part was his navel. He unsheathed his dagger and plunged it into Ferragut, killing him. This was how the Arabs were forced from Nájera and how Roldán gained his fame as the best warrior of Christianity. An enormous treasure is said to be buried here.
Túnel N-120 to Pasarela río Yalde (4.2 km)
Alesón 8:35 a.m.
Roldan's Hill, Poyo de Roldán (8:43 a.m.)
After Roldán's Hill, the air was swirling with the stench of animal dung and annoying flies, attracted by the salty sweat coating my face. I couldn't imagine doing the Camino in summer.
The outskirts of Nájera were a mix of vineyards and modern industrial buildings, including a sports center. I enjoyed the cute little cafes and signs welcoming pilgrims. We passed the Convento las Clarisas de Santa Elena, built in the 16th century. It is inhabited by a cloistered community of Franciscan Clarists. Shortly, we crossed a bridge over the río Nájerilla; it had replaced a medieval bridge erected by the Spanish priest and hermit San Juan de Oretga, known as Saint John the Hermit (1080– 1163); he is best known for repairing roads and bridges along the Camino.
Pasarela río Yalde to Nájera (3.2 km)
Peregrino En Nájera (9:26 a.m.)
Cafe with pilgrim murals
Bridge over río Nájerilla (9:50 a.m.)
Bridge over río Nájerilla
Shell and arrow
I had written in my notes to stop for coffee at the Parador of Santo Domingo, but alas, that was a mistake as I found when I looked around for it in vain. Studying my map, I found that the Parador was in Santo Domingo de la Caldaza. Of course. I would arrive there the following day.
Once I finally got into the heart of Nájera, I liked it. Nájera was known as the Capital of the Kingdom of Navarre in the 11th and 12th centuries and had strong connections to the Camino. In the year 923, King Sancho Garcés I from Pamplona conquered Nájera for Christianity. The expression "Kingdom of Nájera" started being used, especially during the reign of García Sánchez III (1035-1054), since the court from Navarre settled here.
After 1061, Nájera became part of Castile and King Alfonso VI granted some privileges to the township. In 1438, the title of "city" was given and a long and peaceful period ensued until the outbreak of the War of Independence, during which the heritage of the town was greatly damaged. After 1833, Nájera became the administrative center and the headquarters of the district. Currently, it is a dynamic township with a strong furniture industry. It now has an expanding population of 8,500.
Nájera's old town is located between the river Nájerilla and the Castillo and the Malpica mountain, whose high rock face serves as a dramatic backdrop to the city. In the Middle Ages, both mountains, as well as the city itself, were walled. Its coat of arms, a bridge between two castles, is clearly related to the Road to Santiago and explains the importance of Nájera, one of the few places where pilgrims could cross the Nájerilla. The San Fernando quarter still survives on both sides of the pilgrimage route.
I walked into the Real Parroquia de la Santa Cruz, forgetting it was Sunday, and found parishioners lined up for communion.
Real Parroquial de la Santa Cruz
Murals in Nájera
I admired the Monasterio Santa María la Real, founded in 1052. According to legend, in 1044, King García was chasing his falcon while hunting for partridge when, all of a sudden, he found a cave with a surprising statue of the Virgin. The king understood the discovery as a good omen in his fight against Islam so the following year, he initiated the building of the church.
The Monasterio Santa María la Real owned wide territories and wealth. It underwent difficult times in the 13th and 14th centuries, and splendorous ones as well, like the 15th century when the new church got built and the monastery became independent from the Cluny Order. The 19th century was a difficult period as well. The Peninsular War resulted in attacks and plundering, and the clergymen were expelled from the monastery. It became abandoned due to the forced resignation of Juan Álvarez Mendizábal, a Spanish economist and politician who served as Prime Minister of Spain from 25 September 1835 to 15 May 1836. By 1889, it was declared a National Historic Monument by the government. Since 1895, a community of Franciscan monks have been living in the convent and restoring it.
The Royal Pantheon in the monastery is the burial place of many of the kings, queens and knights of Navarre. In the crypt is the cave which gave rise to the church, with its Gothic statue of the Virgen de la Rosa (Our Lady of the Rose).
Monasterio Santa María de la Real (10:03 a.m.)
Monasterio Santa María de la Real
I continued through Nájera without getting a snack. I found myself at the exit (salida) out of town, trudging uphill on a wide red earth track lined with pine trees. After reaching the high point, the descent was on wide country tracks through gently undulating farmland. It would be 6 km of fairly monotonous landscape from Nájera to Azofra.
It was only 10:45 a.m., and the sun was breathing down my back and neck. Sometimes our walks seemed an eternity; I'd get glimpses of the town ahead, but as I turned corners or crested hills, it never materialized. The flies started once we were in the open. I waved my hiking poles around relentlessly, much like a majorette twirling a baton, to keep them at bay.
As we approached Azofra, I talked with Ann from Indiana. She had quit her job and was taking time to do the Camino and figure out her life. When I told her I was walking and praying for my loved one, she asked if he had mental illness and I said I didn't know because he'd never been diagnosed. She told of her two brothers, 33 and 34, who were both schizophrenic. They had been committed before and always went off their meds. One was mean and she said what was highly disturbing was that he'd admitted to lusting after her. The other brother was nice but weird. At one time she shared a house with both brothers and their schizophrenic friend. At that moment, her brother lived seven doors down from her and he freaked her out so she had put her house up for sale before leaving home. She thought one brother was bipolar/schizophrenic affective. I wasn't familiar with that diagnosis.
As we continued walking, Ann, who was in her 30s, told of how she wished she could meet someone special. I told her my daughter felt the same but said the online dating thing was horrible for a person's self-confidence. Ann thought men were scared off by strong smart women. She had many friends in their 30s who felt the same way.
Nájera to Azofra Centro (6.1 km)
Nájera to Azofra (10:43 a.m.)
The Ezcaray mountains on the southern horizon
Azofra is a small village with a declining population of 250. It seems to exist only because of the Camino.
I arrived at the Refugio Municipal Azofra at 11:30 a.m., an hour before they opened, and soaked my feet with other pilgrims in a little pool in the courtyard. It was so refreshing as it was stinking hot outside. The albergue was basic and didn't even have enough outlets in which to plug phones. It only had wi-fi in the common area. Once checked in, I showered and did laundry then wandered to the bar in town for French fries and cerveza limon and talked with two easy-going French-Canadian guys, Paul and Richard. I had already chatted with them while we soaked our feet in the pool at the Refugio. I would meet them numerous times between Azofra and Burgos. Paul could speak perfect English but Richard only knew a smattering. However, he asked Paul to translate parts of the conversation so he could participate.
Azofra (11:36 a.m.)
I shared a room with Keiko, a 71-year-old Japanese woman from Sapporo. She had developed a rash on her chest and arm from an albergue she'd stayed in seven days earlier. She worried the rash might be caused by bed bugs, which made me worry she was carrying them. She wanted to go to the Iglesia Parroquial de Nuestra Señora de los Ángeles with me, so we walked around the outside of the church, dipping inside as a funeral was wrapping up. This church was built of ashlars, or large square-cut stones, and workstone between the 17th and 18th centuries.
We then stopped at an outdoor café where we shared a pilgrim's meal: white bean soup, fried eggs with chorizo, and flan. We talked to Steffie from Germany who had just divorced her husband because of his alcohol abuse and addiction. She was taking a break from her work and part time job as a yoga instructor. It was a nice conversation, although I felt sorry for Keiko because she could decipher only parts of our English. We tried our best to include her.
I settled in to sleep early so I could get a good start for my next day's walk to Santo Domingo de la Calzada.
two-bed room at Refugio Municipal Azofra (2:45 p.m.)
Iglesia Parroquial de Nuestra Señora de los Angeles in Azofra (6:10 p.m.) – A statue of Santiago Peregrino (Saint James the Pilgrim) sits inside the church.
Iglesia Parroquial de Ntra. Sra. de los Angeles
interior of Iglesia Parroquial de Ntra. Sra. de los Angeles
Streets of Azofra
Keiko in Azofra
me in Azofra
*Day 13: Sunday, September 16, 2018*
*27,314 steps, or 11.57 miles: Ventosa to Azofra (16km)*
You can find everything I've written so far on the Camino de Santiago here:
Camino de Santiago 2018
On Sundays, I post about hikes or walks that I have taken in my travels; I may also post on other unrelated subjects. I will use these posts to participate in Jo's Monday Walks or any other challenges that catch my fancy.
This post is in response to Jo's Monday Walk.
{camino day 12} logroño to ventosa
I left Logroño at 7:07 a.m. with hordes of other pilgrims, our hiking poles clicking on the pavement as we followed the brass scallop shells out of the city. Maybe the endless hard surface was why my knees, feet and toes were hurting so much.
Logroño to Pasarela ferrocarril (railway) (2.0 km) – the tunnel under the A-12 Ruta Mural Jacobeo (Jacobean mural route).
pilgrim mural on an underpass
Pasarela to Parque de la Grajera (3.9 km)
We came to our first Spanish reservoir at Parque Granjera. There I had an unpleasant experience. At Café Cabaña del Tio Juarvi, pilgrims converged to use the bathroom and have a "second breakfast." In the bathroom, a cute younger lady with long blonde hair and a leather brimmed hat introduced herself as Beck from Perth, Australia. She asked where I was from and I said I was embarrassed to say I was from the U.S. She asked why. I made a face, "Because of Trump. He's an embarrassment." She said emphatically, "Oh I'm an ardent supporter. At least he stands up for you guys, which no one else does!" I said, "Ugh. I hate him with every fiber of my being." And then I walked out to the café to get in line.
As we stood in line, she was being relatively friendly to me and I was friendly enough but not overly so. She was vying for her place in line with a Chinese man and being quite rude about it. Outdoors, when some other Aussies and a lady from California sat at a table, Beck swatted away, very rudely, the Chinese man who tried to join the group. I hate that kind of behavior and was determined once I left the café to keep a good distance from her. I wanted to say to her, "Luckily you're not an American! You have no vote in our politics!" But of course, I didn't.
I'd talked to many people, both Americans and other nationalities, who were definitely not Trump supporters and were in fact shocked and appalled by him. I'd been trying to disconnect from politics while walking, so I left the group and went on my merry way.
The good thing about that gathering was that I met Ray and Tony, two stocky older Australian men (well, they were probably my age!). Tony was doing the Camino for his third time, introducing Ray, his best friend of 40 years, to the pilgrimage. I walked for a bit with them when they caught up with me.
Pasarela to Parque de la Grajera
Parque de la Grajera
Parque de la Grajera to Alto de la Grajera (3.3 km)
Later Beck passed me by. I did what I was learning to do when I didn't want to walk with someone, which was to stop to take pictures, or stop to rest or take a nature break, whatever I could think of. Other people did this to me too. I found this was quite common on the Camino and later heard fellow pilgrims talk about their attempts to shake other pilgrims.
Ray at Parque de la Grajera
I stopped at the table of Marcelino, with long flowing white hair. He manned an "ermita de peregrino pasante," offering various snacks and trinkets for donations. Later, I climbed the path to Alto de la Grajera, where we had a good look back over Logroño. We walked on a dirt track alongside a wire fence covered in crosses made from strips of bark from an adjacent sawmill. This path, which ran above a highway, seemed to go on forever. We descended through forests of pleasant oaks and holm oaks.
Marcelino at his ermite del peregrino pasante
Parque de la Grajera to Alto de la Grajera
looking back at Parque de la Grajera
crosses by the roadway
bull silhouette
Alto de la Grajera to Navarrete (3.5 km)
We approached Navarette through acres and acres of the vineyards of Don Jacobo, which, though pretty, didn't offer much shade. Pilgrims are allowed to sample the grapes as they have been invited to do for centuries. I sampled some but they were filled with seeds so I ended up spitting the whole mess out. Under the relentless sun, it was miserably hot.
Approaching Navarrete, I passed the ruins of the medieval monastery of the Order of San Juan de Acre founded in 1185 as a pilgrim's hospice. In Navarrete, I stopped at Bar Deportivo for an orange Fanta. I paid a visit to the the 16th century Church of the Assumption, with its over-the-top altar. It sits atop a hill commanding a position overlooking the square. I made it a point to stop in open churches to be awed and to pray; I'm not usually a religious person so for me this was unusual. I came to love these sacred moments.
The lady at the Navarrete Tourist Information called ahead to confirm my bed with Refugio San Saturnino. I had called myself several days before, but I wasn't sure if the person on the other end had understood my mangled Spanish. Luckily, they confirmed they already had my name. The woman told me the Spanish name for backpack: mochilla. I could now add another Spanish word to my limited vocabulary.
Navarrete is a historic town with original period homes whose doorways are topped with family crests and armorial shields. It is also known for its pottery; a statue in the main square commemorates this art.
I knew Darina would be stopping for five days in Navarette to meet with some teaching colleagues of hers, so I wondered if I would ever see her again. I hoped so, but five days was a long time for her to be off the trail.
on the way to Navarrete
monastery ruins
Church of the Assumption in Navarrete
inside Church of the Assumption in Navarrete
Navarrete & Church of the Assumption
figure in the Church of the Assumption in Navarrete
statue in Navarrete
streets of Navarrete
Navarrete to Opción (detour) to Ventosa (3.6 km)
I continued on through the outskirts of the town and past the cemetery with its splendidly carved 13th century Gothic entrance gateway. I followed the detour path to Ventosa rather than continuing directly beside the roadway. After that, it was a long slog through more vineyards.
Detour to Ventosa (2.1 km)
figure on detour to Ventosa
vineyards along the detour to Ventosa
I finally arrived in Ventosa in the early afternoon in the pounding heat. My usual routine after checking into an albergue was to: 1) shower because I was drenched in sweat; 2) hand wash my clothes and hang them to dry; 3) relax in my bed for a bit or go out to join other pilgrims for a beer or wine; 4) relax some more, and do foot care or knee care; 5) have either a pilgrim meal or dinner with newfound friends; 6) study the route for the next day; 7) get everything ready for an early start in the morning; and 8) go to sleep by 9:30-10:00. Up again at 6:00 a.m. Repeat day after day after day.
I shared a very small room, barely bigger than a closet, with a Korean couple on one bunk bed and a German couple on the other. I had a single bed up against a wall near the window. Someone had closed that window, making the room incredibly hot and stuffy. The German couple slept all afternoon. The Korean couple sat on their bunks in that stuffy room, looking at their phones. After my shower, change, and laundry, I escaped the room as soon as possible to walk around the town and get some fresh air.
church in Ventosa
Ventosa from above
shells in Ventosa
window boxes in Ventosa
albergue in Ventosa
laundry at albergue San Saturnino
I ate dinner at the local café with a large group of pilgrims, including the Aussies Ray and Tony who were from the Blue Mountains near Sydney. I especially liked Tony as he had a very gentle way about him, asking each person about his/her life and why they were doing the Camino. It was nice to get below the superficial with him. I think this happens more on the Camino than any time in real life. I met Bev from Houston who admitted to trying mushrooms once, and loving the experience. My tagliatelle with funghi was just okay; I believe it was a frozen prepared meal heated up. We encountered many of these types of meals on the Camino.
When I returned to the room after dinner, the window was still closed and it was close and sweltering. I argued with the Korean guy that it was just too miserable to keep the window closed, so I opened it up. At first I felt bad because, though the open window cooled the room, dogs outside were yapping and Spaniards walking past were talking loudly. I was afraid I was going to lose the battle if the sounds outside didn't quiet down. Finally, hallelujah, the streets quieted, the window remained open, and I was able to sleep happily.
the Beatitudes of the Pilgrim
tagliatelle with funghi
*Day 12: Saturday, September 15, 2018*
*30,273 steps, or 12.83 miles: Logroño to Ventosa (19.8km)*


text:
JohnnieHayde
Sonderstrade 7
Kobenhavn V, REGION SJALLAND 1708
71-34-81-53 http://gcsafetyc.com
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


The doc documents SplFileObject::__toString as being an alias for SplFileObject::current.
But when casting a SplFileObject to a string, it will return the path to the file, like for the SplFileInfo parent class.
I realise that the version listed on the bug report is 5.4.15 - however testing the repro case in http://3v4l.org/9HuIJ seems to indicate that it was fixed in 5.4.7.
Can you update the issue if you think it still is an issue.


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