I left the hostel without seeing anyone at the restaurant. The sun was just about to rise. As I was leaving, I turned my h
ead back and saw the great view of the town. I thought a snap shot wouldn't jeopardize my schedule. As I pedaled away, I also felt that the wind was becoming stronger. Again, it was pushing me back.The road to Logroño was hilly and a bit tough. Once I entered the city, I stopped at a cafeteria for breakfast—hot breakfast with hot coffee. Then I went to find the church. I found it but I didn't get in. I think it was closed. I didn't have time to get inside anyway.
I proceeded to the information center that was listed in my pilgrim guide. I've circled the block twice but I could not locate it. Bad omen. So instead, I went to the general tourist information center. I asked for directions because the road in my map was leading me to a freeway and I didn't want the cops coming after me again.
So following the instructions given to me, there I went, trying my best not to go into the freeway. In so doing, I noticed that I was headed to the wrong direction. I know I was supposed to go west but I was heading south. I carefully checked my map again and my hunch was right. I turned around and found myself again in this dilemma of not finding the right route. My map seemed outdated. I stopped on the island in the middle of the road and a guy doing some road garden maintenance gave me directions, in Spanish. With the noises from the pas
sing vehicles, I understood that I only had to go straight. What confused me was that the name of the road was freeway coded. I went straight ahead anyway.After a while I spotted a gas station. I stopped to buy water and wanted to confirm from the cashier if I was on the right track. Unfortunately, there was a little misunderstanding. I was saying that the road seemed to be a freeway where bicycles were not allowed, but the guy thought that I was asking for the direction back to the freeway, in the opposite direction. It took me a while to leave that area because no matter which road I took, I kept getting back to the freeway. I was able to leave Logroño after two hours which should have been like 30min tops. Oh, the omen. I decided to take the freeway, thinking I could just ask a cop for information and assistance should I find one, or if they come after me. Whichever comes first.
It turns out it was the right road. It was being converted into a freeway and it was being extended. And it's th
e same road stated in my map and bicycles were still allowed. From this time on, whenever I get lost, I'd trust my gut or simply follow route N-120, the asphalted road leading to Santiago de Compostela.The rest of the road was mostly flat. I reached Santo Domingo de la Calzada in the afternoon when the sun has already set but it's not dark yet. I passed by the church but there was a funeral ceremony going on so I didn't get in. Nearby to the church was a nice looking parador. I thought paradors were accommodation catering the pilgrims. Well, they cater pilgrims, but they were not cheap. I went to the information center to look for a cheap room. I was led to an albergue run by nuns. I checked myself in. The first floor was under renovation but the rooms above were like hotel rooms. Well, rooms for one anyway. More like a fancy dorm room. I thought it looked like my dorm room back when I was in college.
I went out again to have my bicycle checked because it created some noise when I
was pedaling that day. I wouldn't be surprised if it needed some chain fixing considering the amount of snow, rain and mud it collected. After a couple of hours I went back to the shop and I was told that the bicycle just needed greasing. But it's shocking that I had to pay more than twice of what I paid for the tire aligning I had in St. Jean Pied de Port. My bad, I should have taken the leftover grease with me. I could have used it later. And I already paid for it anyway.I went back to my dorm room with a shawarma take out for the night.
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