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October 10, 2002
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| Altar at Viana | |
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Torres del Rio to Viana |
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The level parts were not much better. It was like going into a bathroom with a wet floor. If you weren't careful, you would slip and either wrench your back or give yourself whip lash. Occasionally the path would disappear and I would have to walk on the side of the highway. At times like this I would be jealous of the pilgrims on bikes who speed along not worried about the mud and the ruts. Once I looked up upon hearing the sound of the horn of an oncoming vehicle. It was my buddy from the restaurant last night. As he went by he pumped fist gesture which says "go for it, man" in both Spanish and English. Got to Viana by 2:00 and found the albergue. My boots were caked with mud and I was shown to the laundry room were I took them off and left them on a section of the floor that had newspapers spread all around. As I looked around I noticed two rows of several hooks hanging from the ceiling. All I could think of were the hooks that sides of beef are hung from to age. How strange, I thought. Twenty minutes later I discovered the answer. I went to the laundry room to wash out my socks and rinse the mud off of my pants. There were two bikes hanging from their back wheels looking like hunters' trophies. Walked around the town and found a nice restaurant and decided to eat a good lunch, Spanish style. The place was jammed and I had to wait a few minutes for a table. Just as the waitress came to take my order, my phone went off-home base calling. So, I excused my self and went out into the street so I could hear the call (Spanish restaurants are always noisy). After the call, I enjoyed a great meal. A big, fresh mixed salad with just oil and vinegar and pork ribs-no sauce, just garlic and herbs. And of course great red wine. They just put the whole bottle in front of me and let me take what I wanted. The dessert was a Spanish version of tiramisu, made with real whipped cream-low in carbos. The whole meal, wine included, was nine bucks. What a bargain. While sitting there eating, I thought about how bad the weather had been for the past two days and was feeling a little sorry for myself when I saw on TV that there had been severe flooding in Barcelona and snow in the mountains of Madrid province from the same storm. So, I guess I didn't have it too bad. After lunch I wandered around the city to take in the sights. One of Viana's claims to fame is that the place where Caesar Borgia was killed in battle. He was the commander of the Navarrese army fighting for the King of Navarrre. Borgia was the Renaissance's nastiest s.o.b. He was the subject of Machiavelli's book The Prince. Machiavellian is a word to describe Caesar Borgia's modus operandi (not Machiavelli's). His sister Lucretia wasn't much better. She is known for poisoning a few husbands — a real black widow spider! They were both the children of Pope Alexander VI. I went inside the church. Behind the altar was a beautiful tableau of wooden carvings painted and gilded. It was incredible. I could imagine how a poor illiterate campesino must have felt upon seeing it. The story of the Bible in easy-to-understand format. Went back the albergue to be in bed by the 10 pm. curfew |
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