Day 11: Logrono to Navarrete
Morning in an albergue is a confusing symphony of rattling plastic bags, iphone lights in the darkness, plastic bags rustling with the cram of clothing, and pilgrims noisily trying to be quiet while preparing for the road. Much of this begins around 5:45 a.m. In Logroño, the entire room was awakened by an elderly Italian’s rainforest alarm. It sounded and sounded and SOUNDED. Everyone woke up…except him. Of course. When he finally rolled out of his bottom bunk, he took a piss and crawled back to bed. Really?!?! You have to set a morning alarm to remind yourself to piss?
Andrew and I jammed our belongings into our packs, a ritual we have grown familiar with, though not liking it any more after eleven mornings. I looked out my window in the dim light at the cathedral spire. The moon was still high, and the spire seemed lit from within. Maybe rainforest-guy’s alarm allowed me this blessing. I would have otherwise missed it.
Leaving Logroño is a long walk through a long park. Spaniards use their parks every early morning to bike, walk, and jog for miles. This is a truth for every city and village Andrew and I have passed through. We meet the very young and very old, usually walking, in the morning heat. We’d fit in if not for our heavy backpacks.
We weren’t sure when we’d finally left the park, but ahead we saw a Moses-like figure sitting at a booth. Marcelino, the pilgrims’ helper, greeted us with fruit, souvenirs, and advice for a donativo. He stamped our credentials and wrote a lovely blessing above the sello: May the sun and moon light your Camino and your life. He was a philosopher, suggesting that we are all one in the heart of the Camino of life. I loved this guy. He came over to where I sat with Andrew near a bush, and shared his orange with us.
Navarrete was an emotional experience. I found El Cántaro, the albergue I stayed at in 2013. Celestino and Alicia, the owners, were there and remembered me. I got my bottom bunk back, toured the city I saw from a taxi window two years before, and attended a beautiful mass in the evening. 
At night, after tapas with friends, Sam and Laura came to the kitchen with a bottle of wine. We talked books, music, philosophy, and family, until Sam curled up to sleep on the floor. He gave the hospitalera and Andrew quite a surprise the next morning.
Navarrete played a huge role in my past Camino drama. Expectations can disappoint, but that was not the case this time. The old memories mixed with the love of new friends that went long into the night. My Navarrete drama is now a beautiful memory of Canadians, Irish, Swiss, Danes, and Germans, around a table, sharing food, drink, and stories. A true pilgrim experience and blessing…and another answer to “Why do you walk the Camino?” I wish the same for you on your life’s Camino. 
God bless and Ultreia!
~Penny