San Estaban

Leaving Roncesvalles with a little rain.

I remember having read something about a church named San Esteban located somewhere in the first few stages. Stopping in San Esteban was my goal today, since Estaban was the name of endearment that I called my son, Steven, when he was little. I did not look very carefully in the guide book and thought that finding it should not be too difficult.

After the first encounter of a church in the town of Espinal, I found out that small town Spanish churches did not have big signs in the front. I left my group of peregrinos, went into the church, prayed lauds, left, and later found out that the name pf the church was San Bartolomeo. Passing church after church in Bizkarreta-Gerediain and Lintzoain without finding a San Esteban, I entered Zubiri, a possible stopping place for the night. They had three albergues and Larrasoana was about 5.5km more. I even found a Calle Esteban (St. Stephen Street) but no church.

For some reason I decided to go on to Larrasoana thinking that finding San Esteban was a lost cause. After just about a half of a kilometer I started having serious doubts about the decision. Passing by farms with the sound of big dogs barking behind a tall hedge, walking alone with no pilgrim group, passing by a sign reading "Danger Electricity" in Spanish, having the wind in my face and noticing a man walking a few tens of yards behind me, I started getting worried. The dogs were fine, I stayed clear of the sign, and the man (who only spoke Spanish) was another pilgrim. With my limited Spanish we actually communicated reasonably well. I found in our struggling conversation that his wife was driving their car and was going to meet him in Larrasoana ( it seems he was walking and she was driving the Camino).

However, the albergue there was full and the guy said that the next one was another 7 km. Dejected, I thought that I would have to walk more than my tired legs could carry me. Another pilgrim there had translated what my new companion had said in offering that his wife and he could give me a lift to the next albergue. Although I felt like it was "cheating" by not walking the entire route, I  could not refuse his kind offer.

I arrived at the next albergue in Zabaldika run by four Sisters of the Sacred Heart. A few other pilgrims had done the same and taxied ahead to this same albergue. Everyone helped with preparing dinner after which was a prayer service in the chapel. It was Sunday and I was hoping that there would be a late Pilgrims' Mass as most places have. Since the priest who comes to the convent to preside at Mass only comes Monday to Friday, we had a prayer service in the choir loft and communion at the end. As I walked down the treacherously small stone spiral stairs from the choir loft, I noticed the prominent statue of Saint Stephen. One of the sisters handed out papers with the history of the convent and chapel and what name was at the top: San Esteban!