I arrived to Los Arcos by bus, 1,70€, 25 minutes. Seems funny when you think that it would have taken me at least 4 hours to walk the same journey, but probably closer to 5 or 6 with coffee breaks!
Los Arcos was in the middle of their week of town festivos. Los festivos del pueblos are a great time! All (most?) small Spanish towns have a week of celebrating usually in August, and believe or not, this was my first!
The center square of Los Arcos was covered in sand and there was railing and very shaky scaffolding seating around the square. Los Arcos has their own, much smaller, running of the Bulls- just like in Pamplona- but in miniature! Wooden fencing had been erected around the streets for safety from the Bulls.
Before knowing about the festivities, I had told all my Camino friends to meet me in the main square at 6 to share a drink as it would be my last day on the Camino (this year). However the running began at 6! No worries, it was a small town. Everyone was out and I was able to share a drink with my Camino family and say my goodbyes.
All the inhabitants of the village were wearing white and red. Typical of this region. White pants and white shirt, red sash at the waist, red bandana around the neck. Most women wore red accessories- red shoes, red purse, red fans. What a sight- all the villagers in clean white and bright red and then the pilgrims wandering around in their pilgrim clothes.
The streets were alive- young and old. One of my favorite things of Spain is how multigenerational all public spaces are. Joie de vivre is something the Spanish are good at!
We watched a little bit of the bulls being chased around and didn’t really enjoy it. Suddenly music started playing somewhere. “Let’s go find the music,” I said. So we did. They were around the corner. The town band, sitting down at a terraza, metal tables that had been pushed together, all in white and red, beers in front of them.
I took too many videos. They’re posted below.
Conversations and hugs and laughs lasted late and we didn’t get back to the Albergue until after curfew.
I had really wanted to dedicate my last day of walking to those who were continuing on. I met beautiful people this time, just like last time. It’s an amazing feeling to bond with strangers from all corners of the earth who are all on this crazy pilgrimage for all different reasons or no reason at all. Just to see what the human spirit is able to accomplish.
Yesterday I wrote that I was back to myself in Madrid. As if my clothes or jewelry make me who I am. But that’s the beauty of the Camino family- no one knows what you look like off the Camino. You are stripped bare to who you are at your core.
It’s a beautiful thing and I’m so grateful that I’ve found it.
I am super thankful that I could walk for a few days but longer would have been nice. Your muscles are like your brain. The first day is full of joyful optimism. Wow! I’m going to walk 30 km today! And then the next 2 days your legs say- what the hell is wrong with you? What kind of vacation is this? You want us to walk 30 k again in this heat?! But sure enough, day 3 and your legs comply. They say ok, fine, lets walk. And for me, my mental outlook is the same. It takes me a few days to warm up and make friends. I have a hard time starting conversations those first few days but sure enough- by day 5- I love everyone!
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