Made it to Burgos, the former capital of Castile. Arrived to a very nice apartment (care of Booking.com) right downtown. Lots of walking ensued.
In Chaucer’s day, Burgos was the capital of Castile (Madrid eventually supplanted it as capital) and many, many Castilian kings and queens were crowned in Burgos Cathedral. It was here that King Pedro was first crowned, and then in March, 1366, literally up and left to escape his half-brother Enrique who had made much faster progress from Zaragoza, capturing the city days later. Burgos was also where Pedro returned nearly a year later to be crowned for a second time after defeating Enrique at the Battle of Najera on April 3, 1367. An important place for my story, and for Spanish history.
I made it to Burgos Cathedral (also called Catedral de Santa Maria) an hour before closing. The cathedral was a revelation – one of the finest cathedrals I’ve ever been in, and I’ve been in many. Its architectural history and evolution encompasses the entire history of Gothic architecture. And it was just damned beautiful.
It also had a very good museum. And a stunning courtyard. Really memorable to find such a treasure in what is not a major European city. And that’s what so special about this kind of journey.
After, I walked to the hilltop where Burgos Castle used to stand before Napoleon’s troops blew it up in 1812 during the war against the English. The explosion destroyed a nearby cathedral and blew the windows out of the Cathedral de Santa Maria. The French were so keen to blow it up before the English arrived (Welling had surprised them) that they blew it up before all the French soldiers had left, killing over 100 of them. Low walls were all that remained, but the site gives a great view of the city below.
Took in another older romanesque cathedral with less awe-inspiring but still beautiful views and moments.
Ate more pinchos for dinner, watching the crowds in the cathedral’s plaza. Every city and town has a plaza like this. A cathedral at the centre overlooking a central square where people congregate to eat, drink and socialize. God never too far from the people or the stomach. I spoke to my son about this, how this congregation of local people like this everywhere makes Spain (and France, and Italy, etc) feel like the places are more people-centred, more connected to where they are. North America finally figuring this out and playing catchup.
Next morning I walked to five different city gates connecting what was left of the city walls. The San Martin Gate was the entry into the Jewish quarter. King Pedro entered this gate after his victory at the battle of Najera (says Ayala, the chronicler who also fought at the Battle of Najera and who Chaucer may have met). The people probably gave Pedro a muted reception as he rode toward the city from Najera, as when they last saw him a year earlier he had abandoned them and fled the city as Enrique’s forces approached.
I then checked out and drove to Las Huelgas a few minutes away, and had a tour of the monastery (in Spanish). The monastery was originally created by a grant from Eleanor of Aquitaine and King Henry 1 who are both buried there, along with most of the kings and queens of Castile and Leon. Few places in Spain are as important.
Then drove to Najera. More lights came on but the car was fine, not overheating, so I kept going. My family motto is Non altus, non humulus, sed progressus – not high, not low, but forward. Which could have been a big mistake if the engine had failed in between these cities. So I was lucky as I crossed from Castile back into Rioja, and wine country.
Burgos hadn’t been that warm (in fact it was four degrees that morning as i began my walk around the city gates), but it warmed up as I travelled east, and the trees became more plentiful as I entered rolling hills. It almost looked like BC at some points.
Saw lots of people walking the Camino de Santiago which hugged the south side of the A221. Impressive. Not something I would ever want to do, but gave me food for thought.
Finally reached Najera, after failing to get there the day before. And after the failed trip of 2021 (due to COVID). Felt good to finally be there. It was as I had imagined it from the photos I had seen, nestled beneath red cliffs, the River Najerilla bisecting the town, a monastery set back by the cliffs (and closed, sadly). Crossed the bridge to the north side and ate more pinchos and had some wine. I was grateful to be there.
The bridge over the river, the Puente San Juan de Ortega, was ancient. In 1367, it was the only way across the Rio Najerillo at the Battle of Najera, and once Enrique’s troops turned and fled toward Najera, they were slaughtered by the English and Pedro’s troops as they tried to cross the river (which as much faster and wider back then). The combined armies totalled something like 65,000 soldiers (depending on which chronicler you believe – I go with Andrew Villalon and Donald Kagay in their extensively-researched history To Win and Lose a Medieval Battle). The army of Edward and Pedro suffered something like 100 casualties; Enrique’s army had over 10,000 dead. One can imagine the blood coloured water.
Then off to Huercanos and see if I can find the bridge over the smaller River Yalde, about 10 km northeast, where, according to Villalon and Kagay, Prince Edward and his army travelled to surprise Enrique, who had expected him to come from Navarette due east.
The river was more a creek and no gorge to be seen on the three crossings I spotted. There were hills a bit further north, but with the afternoon fading, I decided to head back to Logrono via Navarette.
Travelling east it was easy to see that Enrique would not be able to see Edward’s army lying over the ridge by Navarette, or that he had taken his army north around a huge hill in the night and made it to Huercanos before dawn.
I stopped in Navarette as the day grew warmer. The valley between Navarette and Logrono was where the Black Prince and Pedro were resting their army of some 20,000 soldiers before advancing to meet Enrique, who had moved his army to the east side of the river Najerilla (which would turn out to be a stratrgic mistake). Navarette was only a five or six hour march from Heurcanos (three hours to walk for one person; probably double that for entire army), and it was clear that the Black Prince and his army would be hidden from Enrique as he travelled by night around the large round mountain to near Huercanos and find the bridge crossing there.
From there he was able to attack Enrique from the northeast, rather than east, which was where he was expected to come from.
As a result, the Battle of Najera began with Enrique’s troops in disarray as they tried to pivot to face the army of the Black Prince. As some 60,000 soldiers began to fight, Enrique’s army was already on its back foot.
Logrono, again
Then a few minutes to Logrono where I checked into the excellent Sercotel Calle Mayor. The very nice room had a bath halleluiah!
Then out to find Calle Laurel, the area of old Logrono with an exorbitant number of excellent tapas bars, and after wandering around ended back at the start and enjoyed excellent Rioja (very modestly priced – see the chalkboard below) and some delicious tapas.
Then out the next morning to get more euros at an ATM and off to Olite, via Tudela.
Tudela
After following the Ebro river southeast, retracing the steps (backwards) that Enrique’s army would have taken as it approached Logrono from Zaragoza, I arrived at Tudela. Followed my nose and ended up in a crazy drive down very narrow streets to parking, then walked to the cathedral. Opened in 10 minutes so looked at the museum – small and not very interesting. No one in the cathedral at first which was cool. Pretty plain, but still impressive.
Then to a mercador (grocery store) to pick up water, hamon, apple and snacks for the short drive to Olite.