hike day 29: los arcos

what an incredible day. where even to begin?

how about starting with the reappearance of the bedbug scourge in los arcos? i was devoured alive and barely slept. between the previous night's snorefest and making for bedbug grub, little sleep so very happy to be parachuting out now.

still, thanks to the magic of anti-inflams, even bedbugs were not enough to dampen my spirits. moments after i bid bedbug hotel adieu, i crossed a small bridge leading back into charming los arcos. quel cacophony! some 30 storks were busy bathing in the river, all the while competing with the early morning singing frogs and ducks. i was speechless.

at the very apex of the los arcos church is an enormous nest. imagine a large pilates ball and you are now looking at roughly the size of the stork nest. two black and white specimens were preening above the church bells. what a sight.

so i began walking against the current. not that it's that obvious as the camino symbols are unidirectional and geared for the walk toward santiago so it didn't take long before i got lost but some lovely local packed me into his car and put me on the right road. i now had to amend my standard "hola bonjour guten tag" pilgrim greeting by tagging on a "buen camino".

so many were the familiar faces that i crossed, many of whom i'd left behind as much as a week ago. there was little korean sinye who can barely communicate in any other language and whom i greatly admire for not letting this stand in the way of his santiago dream. then there was french mimi and sidekick jocelyne who barely stand halfway as tall as me yet carry enough to keep a pack mule in business. how about german hans whom i'd last seen glancing up anxiously at the pyrenees following his heart bypass surgery some months earlier. young gaetan from gatineau who had fretted that his tendinitis would force an abrupt end to his camino. even "madame soupir" as patrick and i dubbed her from the annoying habit of sighing long and hard to show the world how much she suffers for her camino. i almost felt as though i was watching the conclusion of a play where each actor was taking a bow. with each one (well ok, mme soupir didn't make the cut!), i stopped for a quick debrief, hug and kisses before wishing them well and moving on. i felt loved.

and of course i ran into patrick. right in the middle of some of the most gorgeous vistas this side of the universe. though we'd parted ways only 2 days earlier, there was already a list to catch up on but not nearly enough time. we made a date in paris in a month's time after our respective trips. very much looking forward to it.

if i had to choose a slice of geography to be backtracking on, this would to the list. imagine rows of vineyard bodegas, golden poppy-speckled wheat fields as far as the eye can see, all of it framed in a distant sierra with wind turbines standing guard over the mountains. stunning.

eventually i wound my way back to the wine fountain of irache where there appeared to be a camera crew set up. taking no notice, i cupped my hands under the fountain and toasted aloud to patrick's happiness, to my family's, to my friends, all the while renewing the contents of my makeshift cup in between toasts. at the outset, i toasted each of my friends individually but quickly realized i'd be tanked in no time flat! all the while, the camera crew recorded my every move. upon inquiring what they were recording for, they replied they are putting a special together for some spanish news program. and there i will be, slobbering with vino tinto running down my chin!

one more day to pamplona then a new adventure begins.