Adventures

I remember the clear anticipation of Logrono. I looked forward to it like a 7 year-old on Christmas Eve; trying to be patient for the big day but failing oh so miserably.

My excitement was for two reasons: 1) the regional wine festival which was being celebrated during my expected time of arrival; and, 2) I had been walking 30 km for six straight days on the Camino de Santiago hike and needed some serious re-charging. Logrono, to me, was a 1up in one of those Mario video games; totally and completely necessary for prolonged survival.

Walking into Logrono took a while. When you walk into a city by foot it takes what feels like ages to finally arrive. At first, you see it along the horizon, very quietly. Specks of tall buildings that slowly, slowly become larger ones.

As I walked closer into the city centre, I began to hear crowds, then music. Classic Spanish guitar – ah, a picker’s paradise! Coming closer and closer, the crowds dawned upon me, and all of a sudden I was shoulder to shoulder with locals, who were singing, wearing regional wine scarves to represent their region of choice, and drinking wine in their clear plastic cups. I remember thinking the white wine looked like liquid pale gold in those cups.

Finding the narrow street (body’s length, at most) where my free room was to be located, I was not only met with more people, but marching bands passing by, one by one. Trumpets soaring and drum beats pounding! The pure joy on people’s faces! It was as if these people had been waiting forever for this moment to arrive. If I could read their thoughts, I would think it would be something along the lines of: “Let’s dance, drink, live! Hold my hand!” I couldn’t help but burst into a smile. This moment was meant to be shared.

My weariness no longer mattered. I had arrived; Logrono and its people were celebrating. I needed to stand under the white wine tents framing the city centre’s courtyard and watch the traditional Spanish dancing. I craved the tapas featuring chorizo and patata, and I was ready to put on my wine scarf and sample all the regional wine.

Sipping whites and reds on that warm evening under Logrono’s sepia-toned lamplights, I felt that kind of momentous feeling where you recognize that you had arrived somewhere very special. Not like home, but that place that you dream of when you are home.

I thought to myself: Yes, Logrono. I am ready. Let’s dance, drink, live - I’ll hold your hand.