Santo Domingo to Tosantos

Due to early-rising dormmates, got an early start in Santo Domingo, and walked about 28km to Tosantos by about 2pm.

Terrain: sunflower fields broke up the endless wheat fields at some points, making me very happy! no shade.
Weather: lovely cloudy skies in the morning, sun in the afternoon but not unbearably hot.
Feet: walked in Tevas with socks (felt very German) which was a nice break. By the end my socks rubbed, but in different places than normal, so it was fine.
Company: walked the majority alone, leapfrogging with others, like this group of 3 German ladies with matching green backpacks, and this kind of strange kid from New Orleans named David. Most of them stayed in Belorado and I went on another hour. I am finding that it is much better to stay past the bigger towns (the ones that the guidebooks set out as a day´s walk from each other) and go for the next small town. This avoids the crush of people in the hostel and in the morning getting started. The tiny towns can be restful, and the big ones usually have an old part of town that is good for walking around, but the middle-sized ones can sometimes be modern or run down and not very attractive.
At Tosantos, population 59, I found the albergue just off the road, and walked in to find Kelly from Montana, who I met first on my second day, in Roncesvalles. She always has a positive attitude and engages the Spanish people so much that she is great to be around. I had thought she´d passed me by, since she´s a stronger walker, but she had stayed with a friend in Najera a night and so I´d caught up! I was only the third person in the hostel, and it ended up being me, Kelly, a guy from Toronto named John, a Dutch girl named Kat who spoke perfect English, and a strange Belgian guy with a lot of tattoos, sun-darkened skin and the worst teeth you have ever seen. He spoke no English, just French and Spanish, and kept rolling cigarettes and making funny sucking-in noises through his bad teeth. Fortunately he kind of kept to himself, slept in a separate room downstairs, and left early in the morning. The other 4 of us had a fabulous time with the hostel to ourselves. The previous day there had been 20 there, and there was room for at least 30, but it was so restful with just a few!
This was a parochial albergue: donation only (no fee), we helped cook dinner, ate together and did the dishes, breakfast together, and even prayer time together up in the little chapel in the attic, which had candles and stained glass. The building was maybe 300 years old, with huge wood beams and white plastered walls, and it was just little vinyl mattresses on the floor, but with only a few of us we were able to double them up and be quite comfortable. The hospitalero, Jose Luis, made (with our chopping help) tortilla española and sopa de ajo, and ensalada. Let me just say - I don´t understand why they have to always put tuna in the salad here, but I am not a big fan. But the soup was very good, garlicky and thickened with day-old bread...and the tortilla was delightful. Best one I´ve had here (not surprising, since it was freshly made and not sitting in some bar)! I totally need to get the knack of it when I get home, despite the salt and carbs and like a cup of oil. :) And we had very good 2001 La Rioja local wine, and melon for dessert. At no cost!!! They also took us up to tour the "virgin in the cave," a little ermita (hermitage?) built into the rocky side of the hill. It was a nice little chapel, and the host lady took her tour very seriously, giving us dirty looks when we laughed at Kelly´s translations or commentary. She especially did not like when Kelly thought that St. Lucia was holding a plate of muffins when it was actually her EYES that had been plucked out of her head. Nice.
A delightful day overall.