Pause and Wander

Date: September 8–11, 2025

Places: Lorca → Estella → Los Arcos → Viana → Logroño

Distances: 8 km, 22 km, 19 km, 9 km

The Camino gave us a gift after the tough stretch into Lorca: a short recovery day into Estella. Vineyards and cliffs framed the path, and by mid-morning we were free to explore town. Estella struck the perfect balance—alive yet timeless—and dinner that night was an Indonesian-Spanish fusion feast we’ll be talking about for a long time.

The next day, alarms rang at 5:15 for our longest walk yet: 22 km to Los Arcos. The terrain shifted from scrub oak to farmland to tiny villages, each climb opening to bigger horizons. The last 12 km, though stark and exposed, felt strangely magical. No shade, no water, no villages—just wheat fields stretching to the horizon, windmills in the distance, a ruined castle perched on a hill, rock formations bursting from the earth, and olive groves heavy with fruit. Shaina led the way, the girls walked beside Max, and joy bubbled over at the absurd perfection of it all. Max even found himself harnessing his inner Maui and shouting, “Can I get a CHEE-WHO!” into the wind. The euphoria was brief but unforgettable.

We reached Los Arcos spent but content, ending the day over a homemade dinner and lively conversation with Amy and Sarah, two Midwestern women who described themselves as “fairies and tree huggers.”  Finlee delighted in sharing her pictures of flora and fauna from the road. 

From there, the Camino stretched on—19 km to Viana, pleasantly under steady cloud cover. The highlight was an unexpected pine grove filled with cairns and tributes to lost loved ones. We paused there to leave a stone, and thought of Max’s mom, Dana, and all our friends and family we temporarily left behind for our adventure. The last kilometers were rough, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with semi trucks, until the girls spotted a playground at the edge of town. With seemingly endless stores of energy to buzz around a playground after a long day of hiking, they quickly reset the mood with pure joy.  

Viana itself was a revelation: a lively old town perched on ramparts, tapas spilling into the streets, and the haunting open-air ruins of the Iglesia de San Pedro. At sunset, the whole sky lit up in a spectrum of orange, pink, purple, and blue, with jagged ridges in the distance whipping up the clouds into wild shapes.  It felt like a glimpse into the land of Faerie. 

The next morning’s short walk into Logroño felt effortless after a blissful sleep-in sesh. Crossing the Ebro River, the city unfolded with charm that somehow survived its size—cobbled lanes, riverside promenades, and legendary tapas bars along Calle Laurel. Dinner became a moving feast: jamón ibérico–wrapped asparagus, croquettes, cannelloni stuffed with pâté and béchamel, and smoked salmon tartar. Each stop dotted with a glass of wine or beer and round of Hearts with the girls. Ice cream followed, along with familiar faces Roger and Aggie from Iowa. Last year, on their very first day near Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, Aggie broke her arm. But here they were again, smiling and determined to walk on. It was an amazing story of determination: to return to a dream after a devastating hiccup showed the enduring pull of the Camino. 

In four days we’d moved through vineyards, castles, wheat fields, ruins, and tapas streets—rarely passing up a playground—each step different, each surprise unforgettable. The Camino keeps showing us more than we expect, and we can’t wait to see what’s next.