Stories from the Camino de Santiago: The Carrefour Town

'The next town,' says Adeline while studying her iPad screen without breaking her five kilometer-an-hour stride, 'is a Carrefour town.'

'What's the town called?'

'I don't know, but it's a Carrefour town. It says so on the map. There's a little icon here.'

It's five in the afternoon, and I'm famished. We still have four kilometers to go along a brilliantly white and perfectly flat strip of gravel road that runs through the fading green wheat fields west of Burgos, ending at the next little pinpoint of civilisation, where we'll bivouac for the night. Since the last town, the paced crunch of our trail runners on the gravel path we're on has been slowly diminishing, like two steam locomotives nearing a station.

For the past five days our evening meal choices have been limited to that old culinary Camino standard, the peregrino menu. I'm amazed to think back now, after 800 kilometers, how absolutely standardised, ritualistic and exceptionally bland  the peregrino menus are all along the road. Order the ensalada mixta, the staple first course on the menu at Pamplona, you get lettuce, tomato, onion, and with slight variations boiled eggs and asparagus. Order it in Estella, you get ditto. And more of the same in Hontanas, Astorga, right down to Santiago. Little or no dressing, no condiments. I dare say that even the author of the Codex Calixtinus, bless his pilgrim soul, probably ate the same tired recipe on his pilgrimage tour, eight hundred years ago.

Which is why we're looking forward to the Carrefour town where, before we shower, wash clothes, or even take our trusty trail runners,  we'll drop our packs at the entrance of the Carrefour and stock up on dinner goodies. Sure, its over-lit, ample shelves are filled mostly with pre-packaged, radiated food prepared by a faceless international conglomerate who probably buys hot-house grown lettuce by the metric ton from corporate-owned farms, but we don't care. Why?

It's simple. Because Carrefour's gazpacho is the smoothest, richest, yummiest gazpacho you'll ever taste this side of the Pyrenees. Throw in a generous slice of goat's cheese (we're happy if it's local, but we'll settle for something imported from Italy) and a chunk of freshly baked pan and you'll see us kicking back on Adeline's sky-blue sarong on a lawn in a scenic park, or on a park bench next to a romanesque church, contently slurping from our green plastic mugs in-between mouths-full of tangy cheese and bread.

The rumour that, on the Camino, the pilgrim's journey is a fruitless search for culinary delight may be largely true, but there are notable exceptions, such as those you'll find in Carrefour towns. Go on, be a devil. Be different. Succumb.

Follow the first fifteen days of our Camino trip, starting here.

Camino de Santiago Day Three: Arudy - Laruns: Know What You Eat

We walked out of Arudy along a quiet street next to the Ossau river, then  a short stretch along the busy main road and finally picked up a dirt track almost all the way to Bielle, which was the capital of the Ossau valleu in ancient times.

It's a remarkably well-preserved viilage where I first noticed the typical 'barn door' entrances of older houses that is a tradition in the region. A keystone above the door carried either the family crescent or a religious motif meant to protect the home and its inhabitants. I took a series of  photos of these doors here and in Larudy, hope I can turn them into a poster or something later.

We had a quick packed lunch in a small park replete with antique fountain in Bielle before continuing.

We followed a very quiet secondary tarred road running through open farmland. Twice we came across Pyrenees Shepherd dogs guarding sheep in fields. While they look extremely cuddly they kicked up a massive fuss when we gave them any attention. A sign we'd seen in Mitagad the previous day cautioned walkers not to look at 'Patou', or bother them at all. They have a job to do!

Once in Laruns we looked up the Albergue L'Embaradere, only to be told we could only check in at five. Strange, since the place was deserted anyway. So we sat down at a sweet-looking creperie on the town square for an hour or two before returning.

The accommodation was in a smallish room stuffed with three bunk beds, our first encounter with Camino-style living. I hadn't slept like this since my long-gone days in the Army. Oh well. This is the Camino, not a package holiday.

So we washed up and walked to a nearby restaurant, Le Arrègalet, that looked like it served local fare.

Adeline can't wait for the restaurant to open...

Here's how the ordering went. 

The owner-chef, who looks totally like Gerard Depardieu, comes round to take our order. Adeline looks at the menu, which is all in French. She decides on "La Dios" something-something.

He looks at her doubtfully. 

"You know what 'La Dios' is?"

She doesn't of course.

He points vaguely to his head.

"Pig's cheek, nose, ear".

She had it anyway, and loved it. My trout with mushrooms was the best I'd ever eaten.

The Camino is being good to these two foodies.


All the photos of the Camino are on Flickr..