Day 7, June 14th, 2023
I wake up in the morning with a strong rumbling in my belly. I barely manage to get out of the tent in time and relieve myself right next to it. Oh no, please no. Every minute now I am making a huge mess which I try to cover with some cardboard lying around. Once, the Frenchman comes around the corner just as I am emptying myself again. He probably wanted to say goodbye, but at the sight of my bare bottom, he quickly turns around and makes a hasty retreat.
I feel awful, not least because I am leaving my campsite so dirty. I immediately eat five charcoal tablets which I bought on advice shortly before I left Germany so that I can at least make it to the town Estella without an accident. I promptly book a room with a private toilet in a cheap hotel while I wait for the tablets to take effect. I feel weak and tired. What could be causing this? I remember that my bowel movement was already a bit strange yesterday afternoon, so it can't be the clove of garlic I ate last night.
It rained during the night, my tent is soaked through. But I don't care, I haphazardly pack my things and try to get out of here. It is only a short four kilometres to the hotel in Estella, but boy, they are tough going. My legs are reluctant to carry me and my rucksack. Along the way I drink my last of the water, and then another small Camino miracle occurs, because just as I start to worry about the water, there is a sign pointing to a fountain where I can refill my bottle.
I am utterly exhausted when I arrive at the hostel without, thankfully, further incident. According to the website, I can't check in until 1 p.m., and it is only 10 now! Nevertheless, I ring the bell and a woman opens the door. When she sees me, she tries to send me away because she doesn't understand me. I show her my booking confirmation and indicate that I am incredibly tired and desperately need to sleep. Thereupon she goes to a small counter in the corner and makes a phone call. I stay put in the corridor and have to lean on my walking stick for support, I can barely hold my rucksack. The phone call is successful - I am allowed in.
How glad I am about the bed. I want nothing but sleep. I have a double bed and a television, but this only receives Spanish channels. There is no window, instead a glass door leads into a kind of anteroom. To the left of the anteroom are the laundry room and pantry, and straight ahead is a terrace. The terrace is surrounded by high walls, so not a very pleasant place to sit. This is where I get my only daylight which isn't much at all.
I set up my small gas stove and brew myself a cup of tea on my bedside table. Then I hang my wet tent tarps over all the chair backs, the shower head in the bathroom and over my walking stick to dry. After a short time, the room looks like a bomb has hit it. Finally I christen my toilet - properly. I don't want to go into too much detail, but the color and consistency tell me I have to act now, or I will dry out. I write a text which I then translate into Spanish using an app on my phone.
»Excuse me, could you please help me? I have severe diarrhoea and a fever. I need electrolytes from the pharmacy and bananas. Unfortunately I can't go myself. Of course I will pay for the medication, the bananas and for your trouble.«
I show this text to the woman who let me in, whereupon she sends somebody to get the things for me.
»Dinero«, she says, and gestures to show me she needs money, so I give her thirty euros. After a while she returns with a bag full of medications: electrolyte powder to mix with water, tablets for diarrohea, something to restore my gut flora, as well as bananas, yogurt, and several bottles of water. I give her the remaining four euros as a tip. She also lends me a thermometer so I can check my temperature. It is slightly elevated at just over 38 degrees Celsius. The electrolyte stuff tastes awful, but I bravely drink endless amounts of it. Most of the time it comes right back out, but at least I am ensuring a steady fluid balance.
So my day goes by. I sleep, freeze, poop, drink. I have extended my stay by another day because I know I won't be too much better tomorrow. The innkeeper checks in on me again before she goes home and says she will be back at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. I want to go home too.
Distance: 3,8 km / Steps: 5870