Wine Fountain

It turns out that pilgriming is pretty hard and, when the bell sounds for round 5, only two of us make it out of our corner. Understanding our struggle, years ago, monks built a monastery not far from town and started making wine that they provided to weary travelers. It’s gone corporate now, but the owners still keep the fountains flowing where you can fill up a glass and refuel for the day ahead (or, in our case, simply numb the pain).

Filling up a few 1 liter jugs and stuffing them in your backpack is somewhat frowned upon but, fortunately, around the back of the building is a shop where you can buy bottles. We pick their award winner, a reserve selection, and a bottle honoring the Camino with a label showing our journey (it is named after the fountain but when we ask if it is the same as what we tasted there, they laugh and assure us it is much better). Total bill – $20.

With a bit more bounce in our step we push on to the small town of Luquin, where we post up next to the community swimming pool for lunch. The day is warming up quickly and with good food, cold beer, a dozens of lounge chairs free for the taking, the risk of getting stuck here is quite real. If we didn’t have a scheduled meet up a few towns ahead with our bus-based colleagues our story for the day may have ended here. But, digging deep, we get the packs back on and press forward.

For Spanish wine country there is still way too much wheat and I can tell you from experience that trudging through fields full of wheat on a hot day sucks. A lot. By the time we roll in to our destination, Los Arcos, we’re sweaty, tired, and really, really hungry. As we have learned though, in Spain, at the time we finish walking each day (usually between 2pm and 4pm), everything has closed down for the afternoon, making for pretty slim pickings.

Today was tough, and I can see now why some people might just opt for a little more time in purgatory instead. Always forward. Never back.