Dawn descent from Arres, ready for a 28 km stretch to Ruesta . . . the way is along straight lanes, through fields . . .
James often says, "Life is to be enjoyed, not endured" and this Camino is neither race nor penance for me . . . and when the path is less interesting, the game is to see how fast I can go with the pack . . . today's answer is 5km an hour and the first stop is Arieda, another hill village, four hours from Arres and an albergue with bar for cafe con leche . . . enjoying the ambience and ponder stopping there . . . Ruesta is two hours further, but better for tomorrow's hilly leg into Navarra . . . leaving it to chance, I toss a coin . . . Ruesta wins . . . a strange, deserted place . . . mostly ruins . . . the albergue and bar the only place open . . . the only other functional building a holiday home run by the trade union confederation, in memory of the workers "enslaved" building the dam . . . which opened in 1959 and drowned most of the town . . . hello, says Maria, you're the first pilgrim we've seen for a week . . . well, there's another one on his way, I say . . . Sergio arrives soon after . . .
. . . yesterday evening, the priest came to Arres . . . Mass for the pilgrims in the little 16th century church . . . three times he sent Sergio to ring the bell . . . once to the bar for wine . . . only us in the end . . . interesting . . .
. . . the weather is changing . . . time to test the rain gear tomorrow . . .