Sunday 9 May The Day of Wine and Thunder

´When can we go to the wine fountain?´, Rosa and Feline kept asking from the moment we woke up. Last night we arrived in Irache next to the Monastery and Irache vineyards with the fountain with two spouts: AGUA and VINO.



It was pouring with rain but the two blonde 7 year olds ran down the Camino path to the fountain, stainless steel cups grasped tightly in their pink hands. Feline spat out the first taste and asked her mother why anyone would drink something so disgusting. Rosa who remembered her wine tasting lesson at the Sesti vineyard in Montalcino tried to smell it first and then tasted the young fresh wine that poured out of the spout when she lifted the chrome lever. She wasn´t too happy with it and I have a photo of her with wine dribbling out of her mouth (won´t upload that one as it might be used as evidence). Feline joined in again until the novelty wore off and water fights became more fun.

Lisette wanted to visit the 12th Century Cistercian Monastery because she had studied in one in the South of the Netherlands when she was young. The children ran through the cloisters despite being told the monks like silence but settled down once we reached the church: its blonde stone and austere lines with scall op shells at each corner of the dome high in the ceiling signifying its connection with the Camino de Santiago.

Luna and I set off in what we thought was going to be endless rain but it quickly cleared and we had a lovely day walking through vineyards and wheat past a 13th century bathhouse called Fuente de los Moros because of its Moorish design. The medieval town of Villamayor de Monjardin sits at the base of the Mount of Monjardin which is capped by a castle built into the rock.

We were entering Rioja country, as the sky darkened and thunder rumbled in the west and south. We wondered whether to continue on the Camino but ahead I saw a patch of blue sky and light. Luna put on her rain pants and after a few minutes of rain we walked towards the light and by the time we reached Los Arcos it was sunny. Walking into a town, after 19 kilometres on the trail, sticks dragging, all muddy and tired is an experience in itself. People, locals and other pilgrims, greet you with ,Hola, and Bravas! In Los Arcos, the afternoon gathering place is the assymetrical sqaure with no roads running through it, next to the church which was golden in the dusk light. We recognised other pilgrims enjoying an aperitif next to a fountai here children played.