Najera to Santo Domingo de la Calzada. Only 13 miles

Leaving Najera early, before first light once again, we followed the yellow arrows like we do every morning.  As we approached an alleyway, there was the sound of smashing glass and men yelling and screaming "buen f**king camino!". I watched as a bottle came crashing down the street and stopped dead in my tracks, able to go no further.  There was another male pilgrim with us but I was not going into that alley.  At that very moment a police car turned down the narrow street going very slowly and the three young men just started whistling and walking on as if nothing had happened.  It was obvious they were drunk and had probably been up drinking all night.  This would be the first time we felt any sort of danger on the Camino.  We decided to focus on the feeling of protection we felt at that moment and were grateful.  Those police were like the Knights Templar of old.

We caught up with our friend Shannon, the Navy Corpman from SC, who ended up walking another 6k the night before to the next town because everyone was full. I shouldn't feel so bad for myself.  I don't know what I'd have done had I had to face that dilemma. We walked with her for the rest of the day and were lucky enough to watch a sheep herder and his dogs, who let us give them a pet, and his couple hundred head of sheep walking up the road next to us.  When we finally reached our destination that afternoon, I was so spent. We wandered with Shannon  to try to find a pension since I refused to sleep in another dorm after yesterday's experience.  I just wanted a private space. Thankfully John shares the sentiment.  At the pension we found, the person in charge would not pay any attention to us so John just turned around and left. I followed.  I just didn't have the energy to go back and tell Shannon, who was also waiting to see about the space,  that we were going to go try somewhere else so we just left.  This was after sitting on a park bench crying because my feet hurt so bad and we had no idea of the layout of the town and where we were going to end up.  I just couldn't walk on any farther.  I felt so bad leaving Shannon that way, wondering if she would think we were trying to ditch her. That and the physical exhaustion I felt had put me in meltdown mode.

Someone told us early on in the Camino that the first third would be physical, the second third would be emotional and the last part would be spiritual.  I think the spiritual encompasses all of it but the first two thirds seem to be spot on for me so far.

We ended up at the Hotel Corregidor and I was happy.  John left to scope out the laundry and get us some refreshments while I got off the feet.

Finding six people deep at the laundry mat, we decided just to do it ourselves.  We had some wine and relaxed. We had a nice dinner that night of spaghetti carbonera, lasagna, bread and a large mixto salad that was delicious. We fed a beautiful black lab named Scottie, some treats with permission of his owner.  The purebred dogs are robust here and don't seem to look so inbred like the ones in the states do.

Upon returning to our hotel, we met up with our Ozzie friend, David who was also staying at the hotel, and he explained to us that when he left Najera himself that morning, he had had a bad feeling. It was so bad that he turned around and headed back into town for a coffee and to wait for a friend. We told him our story of the hoodlums and we all hugged with the knowing that the Camino is definitely working its magic.

As we were ready to fall asleep that night, a small band with horns and everything came marching down the street below our window. It was 10:30! Gotta love it.