Live your best life – and know that your best, is enough.
My story
My name is Leo Sage. I am 15 years old and I live with anxiety and OCD. In 2019, I walked 800km across Spain with my dad, completing the Camino de Santiago, also known as The Way. We are returning to Spain to again walk together, this time to the ‘edge of the world’ – Finistere. Follow our journey through blog posts below.
Our excitement is building now and we are letting ourselves start to believe that we will actually be boarding a plane to Europe in 7 days!
Today we began to fill our backpacks for the journey ahead. Whilst arriving in Europe and beginning to walk the Camino Frances is what we are looking forward to the most, I must secretly reveal that the process of getting ‘the gear’ ready in the preceding months is something I relish.
The challenge of rethinking what you think you need, so that you take as little as possible, can be all-absorbing, and provide big rewards.
Light packs are a major pre-occupation for Camino travellers, and for good reason. Walking for weeks on end, a heavy pack really takes its toll on the body, and the mind, and can ultimately end the journey-of-a-lifetime prematurely. Additionally, the mental freedom of travelling with less things is simply wonderful.
Since our last expedition to the Iberian Peninsula three years ago, Leo had outgrown just about everything he owned, from backpack to socks. Only his trusty Camino Buff and sleeping bag remained.
In addition, a few important lessons had been learned about what to take and, whilst Covid stopped the World, our favourite gear makers had been busy developing new and wonderful things. Several months of researching and shopping had culminated in a couple of laundry baskets filled with light goodness waiting to be packed.
It would be fair to say that we are not minimalist pilgrims, those who conquer their fears, take very little, and have packs of 4kg or even less. The resulting mental and physical release must be amazing.
For us it is shades of grey. Certainly we forgo much, but also ‘cheat’ a little by finding the lightest possible items so we can still take the things we cannot convince ourselves to go without and remain light. The unknown, and the need to ‘be prepared’, are powerful forces.
We filled Leo’s Camino pack before he headed off for school camp for his last week Downunder, taking advantage of a beautiful sunny day to do things slowly.
A few final decisions needed to be made as we checked things off the list – usually with the adjudication of the electronic scales. As I weighed two toothbrushes, I briefly wondered how my life had come to this. (The bamboo toothbrush was much lighter BTW)
The often-cited rule is to target a pack no more than 10% of your own body weight. As a larger person this guideline is not one I would recommend. For us something as close to 6kg as possible was our target, anything less than 7kg would be acceptable.
Leo’s base pack weight ended up at a very respectable 6.2kg, excluding the clothes he will be wearing when walking.
Most pilgrims allow themselves a personal treat amongst austere packing lists – for Leo’s pack a 150g Squeezy bottle of Vegemite for the generous amounts of bread Spaniards provide with their meals.
Vegemite, three sets of clothes, a sleeping bag, and not much else.Weighing in…..with a view!Thought I was kidding didn’t you…………one measure of success!
Up your nose: British, informal. : to annoy or irritate
Covid-19 is definitely a significant aspect of preparing for our journey. Whilst the international borders have opened for Australians, we are quickly discovering travel has become a complex and less certain undertaking.
As each country seeks to protect itself in an ever-changing pandemic environment, the rules and requirements for each are a constantly moving target.
France seems one of the more challenging countries to travel in, requiring not only the standard EU entry documentation, but also having its own vaccination Health Pass. These are required to access many places relevant to us including long-distance trains, tourist accommodation and cafes. France’s definition of what constitutes full vaccination has changed three times in as many months.
After two months surfing online Camino forums, and bombarding our ever-patient travel agent Krystal, to confirm travel documentation and vaccination requirements, we have decided just to give up working it out, and simply get everything.
As reasonably experienced international travellers it is unnerving to be largely pre-occupied with travel documentation, rather than deciding what to take, or what to do in our destination country. This will hopefully be something that we recall as a short-lived signature of the Covid pandemic era. I am certainly thanking my luck in having sorted out our gear well beforehand.
And so we have now filled in every EU, French and Spanish travel document, downloaded each country’s covid app, and had all our vaccine jabs. Today, the last task, to front up up for our pre-travel PCR test, required within 3 days of travelling.
At time of writing James does not need one, but things can literally change whilst in transit, and so we invested an additional $150 for both for peace of mind.
Fortunately, negative all round!
Brace yourself………..I dont think any us us are going to complain if PCR tests become a thing of the past!
Pay Forward: British, informal: to show appreciation of a good deed one has benefited from by making a kind gesture towards another person
In 2019 Leo and I walked the Camino de Santiago. It was a special journey shared by father and son, which taught each of us much about ourselves, each other, and the wider World.
A reason for undertaking the journey was to provide some relief for Leo from some very difficult years living with anxiety and OCD. Our journey was to provide a unique experience, to bookend the past, and open the pages of something completely new.
Three years later, all who know Leo would agree that his Camino was the foundation of positive change. He has grown into a much happier and positive young man, with a tribe of equally unique young people as friends who support each other.
Considered one way, The Camino, with its blend of place and wonderful people, gave a gift to Leo.
Whilst planning for this Camino, Leo decided to ‘Pay Forward’ the gift he was given, and use this journey to help others, most particularly, young persons dealing with anxiety in a school environment.
Leo has chosen the ‘Big Talks for Little People’ program, led by Professor Philip Slee. This research initiative is focussing upon raising awareness of, and providing support and tools for young persons with anxiety, through a programme to be implemented through schools.
Before making his decision, Leo met with Professor Slee to find out the details of the program, and how additional funding would assist. Professor Slee explained that the pilot program had just been completed in a handful of schools, with very positive results. New funding will enable the lessons learned to be implemented, and have it ready to be rolled out into schools generally.
And so as we walk, and when we are challenged by a wide hot meseta plain, or a steep mountain climb, we will have the added motivation of Leo’s cause, and its benefits for others, to draw strength from.
The Way is one of several names given to The Camino, Camino de Santiago, or el Camino de Sant Iago, a network of trails across Europe, Britain and Ireland that converge on the city of Santiago de Compostella in North-Western Spain. Other names often used include ‘The Way of Saint James’ or St James’ Way (‘Sant Iago’ being an extrapolation of Saint James)
The Cathedral of Santiago is reputedly the resting place of the Biblical apostle Saint James The Great. The legends and stories describing how Saint James’ remains came to rest in Santiago de Compostella after he was beheaded in the Holy Land are complex and varied. Ultimately, a lost tomb, believed to be that of St James, was rediscovered by a hermit in Galicia early in the ninth century. A chapel to intern the remains was soon commenced, and quickly evolved into the current cathedral, which was completed in the twelfth century.
St James became the Patron Saint of Spain and has remained of great spiritual and cultural significance to the Spanish for many centuries.
The Camino routes to Santiago were established from the tenth Century, and the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela became the destination of choice for Christian pilgrims in Western Europe. At different times Jerusalem was beset by the ‘Holy Wars’ and the internal politics of the church in Rome often alienated many Christians.
Travelling The Camino was not a safe undertaking, with the route plagued by wild animals, thieves, murderers and treacherous conditions. Wealthy nobles often sponsored subjects to travel to Santiago to obtain a blessing on their behalf, whilst convicted criminals were sometimes offered the choice of making the journey to redeem themselves instead of going to prison.
Many churches and orders, including the Knights Templar, established refuges and shelters to support pilgrims, founding a spirit of support and respect along the routes that remains to the present day.
Pilgrims of previous ages who were fortunate enough to return brought with them a scallop shell, plentiful in the region of Galicia of which Santiago is the capital, as a symbol of their journey. Today the scallop shell symbol is used to mark the Camino route, and modern pilgrims wear them on their backpacks to denote themselves as ‘Peregrinos’.
In the modern era over a quarter of a million people travel the Camino each year, with over half choosing the Camino Francés. Surprisingly, historians suggest that this number is barely half of the number that travelled the route each year in the Middle Ages. The Camino Francés commences in the French town of St Jean Pied de Port and winds its way across the Pyrenees, the Basque region and Northern Spain on its way to Santiago.
The Camino Francés route across Northern Spain
Whilst The Camino is best known as a Christian pilgrimage undertaking, it is by no means the preserve of the Catholic faithful, and The Way has become a journey of the body, mind and spirit undertaken by people from a wide variety of beliefs and cultures.
By registering as a pilgrim, modern travellers are issued a Credential del Peregrino, or Pilgrim Credential, which allows use of alberges and refuges run by different organisations, expressly to support pilgrims. For a few Euros each night, travellers have access to a bed and shower, facilities to wash clothes, and often a pilgrim meal over which they can reflect their shared experiences with other travellers.
Upon the Camino the spirit of travellers, and those who support them, is very communal and generous. Most elect to walk alone during the day, but at night it is not unusual to meet up with others encountered previously, with whom friendships and discussions can continue on an ad-hoc basis. The traditional greeting shared between travellers on the way is BuenCamino.
With such accommodation readily available, and villages and towns offering meals and other support at regular intervals, most pilgrims travel light, taking just a change of clothes, sleeping bag and the all-important blister and foot repair kit.
Pilgrims who walk at least the final 100km and have their credential stamped at aulberges, churches and bars along the way, can present them in Santiago to obtain a Compostela (certificate of completion). For this reason many simply choose to commence their journey at Sarria, located 113km from Santiago. Only 12% attempt the French Way from its beginning point in France.
Apart from the initial journey over the Pyrenees the Camino Francés is not overly difficult technically, its primary physical challenge is its long distance and the often challenging weather conditions. Blisters and leg tendinitis are very common and often bring journeys to an end when people can simply walk no further.
However, for many this hardship is little to pay for the opportunity to simply take a long walk in a positive and beautiful place, away from the distractions of day-to-day modern life, and consider the big picture a little. The full Camino Francés typically takes 30 to 40 days to complete.
I was first made aware of The Camino when studying in Italy in the 1980’s. Living in Florence I was sharing a pension dormitory with university students for all over Europe, including three guys from Spain.
Like the rest of us, the Spaniards were very patriotic about their own country and the three things they would talk about with great pride were, Spanish football, Julio Iglesias and the Camino de Santiago. The Camino sounded intriguing, but as a teenager, I wasn’t sure I understood the appeal of spending weeks walking hundreds of kilometres, in fact it sounded a bit crazy. At that time our study group usually decided where to eat and drink in Florence on the basis of whichever was the shortest walk, not the longest.
Fast forward three decades and I was living in my home town, happily married with two children and running a business I co-owned. Like many middle aged people my life seemed to have become too busy and too fast. More and more hours of each week were spent in front of a computer, tied up solving challenges and not being active. As one Camino pilgrim nicely articulated it – everyday life becomes very busy fulfilling the roles and responsibilities we pursue and take on. The time and space required to ponder the bigger picture things were too frequently now fleeting glimpses in between things I was allowing to be more pressing and demanding.
One Friday evening, after a big week at the office, I was dozing on the sofa, the tv show I had been watching long finished. I awoke to find a late night movie starting – it was ‘The Way’. I knew nothing about it, but the lead actor, Martin Sheen was a personal favourite and I thought I would give it a few minutes to see what it was like. It was a drama set on The Camino. Two hours later the end credits rolled and I was totally captivated.
It took a day or two, but eventually the penny dropped and I put two and two together – it was ‘that’ Camino, the one my Spanish study friends had been referring to. Now the thought of walking for weeks on end, away from my dreaded PC and the mental clutter that dominated everyday life, no longer seemed like the act of a crazy person, in fact it seemed like bliss. No matter what the physical hardship might be.
I was soon to discover that I was far from alone in both my introduction to the Camino through watching ‘The Way’, or feeling the irresistible pull to down-tools and go and do it.
I soon found myself going down the Camino rabbit hole. I joined the local association, Th Australian Friends of the Camino, followed a couple of Camino Facebook groups, and read 30 or 40 books by those who had walked The Way. With the support of my wife Jennie, I planned to do the Camino Francés solo in September 2018. Alas, the everyday World intervened and the trip had to be postponed.
At that time my son Leo was struggling with some significant challenges and we needed to make some big changes to help and support him. He started at a new school, which proved to be a very positive move. We also asked Leo if he would like to accompany me to do the Camino, as a circuit breaker and reset from the things in his everyday life affecting him so much. Even though it didn’t exactly sound like a holiday as Dad was suggesting, his answer was an unequivocable ‘yes!’
And so it came to be that, with the school’s whole-hearted support, Leo and I arrived at SJPDP in April 2019 to commence the Camino Francés.
We were ready to experience the magic of the Camino for ourselves.
It proved to indeed to be a magical journey for Father and Son, and an incredibly important and positive experience for both of us. For Leo it proved to be a significant turning point for his wellbeing and happiness.
As for many pilgrims, the draw to return to the Camino became very strong. Plans were made for me to return in April 2020 to travel the Camino Francés with my daughter, but the Covid-19 pandemic intervened.
In late 2021 I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression – no doubt in part triggered by the stresses and strains of running a business and looking after my family during the Covid-19 pandemic. I needed to take some time off to do my own reset. The Camino was beginning to open up again after hibernating through the pandemic and I figured I could tough it out until the beginning of the walking season, so I planned to return in April.
Taking stock of things I felt that I really needed to travel with a companion this time, and not travel solo. My daughter was doing her final year of High School and so I asked Leo to return with me. He immediately agreed. The arrangements were again made with the school, which had seen the significant benefits the last Camino had had for Leo, and in late March 2022 we arrived again in SJPDP to walk the Camino Francés.
When planning our return we had not immediately assumed we would to do the Francés route again, and had investigated other options and particularly the Camino del Norte route. It was clear from reports coming from those over there that many services and accommodation options were still closed due to the pandemic, some permanently. Some attempting the less travelled routes were finding it hard, and even giving up.
We figured that with more support services and facilities in place, we were more likely to find places open on the Francés route and so the decision was made.
It was time to travel The Way again, and here is the story of our journey.
Adelaide, Australia to Saint Jean Pied De Port, France (-16,464 km to 0 km)
Today we completed our journey travelling in planes, trains and automobiles from our home in South Australia to the starting point of the Camino Francés – the small French town of Saint Jean Pied De Port (SJPDP)
We said our farewells four days ago at the airport kiss and drop on a sunny autumn evening, each carrying our scarce luggage of a backpack, to be checked-in, and a small carry-on daypack.
It felt strange to be stepping into the airport terminal after a 2 year absence, and for a few moments, we struggled to remember what we needed to do to catch a plane.
Our airline had recommended arriving early to allow for the additional processing associated with vaccinations etc, but the terminal was not busy and check-in happened with a minimum of fuss. There was a moments confusion when weighing our luggage until we confirmed that all our luggage was on the scales and our check-in bags did indeed weigh 5kg each.
In addition to our passports we were asked to show our vaccination certificates and European Digital Passenger Location Forms which we produced from our extensive portfolio of travel paperwork. There was one additional new form for us to fill in, but we figured that we had done pretty well as we saw other passengers already struggling to provide the paperwork being requested and a heightened sense of anxiety prevailed in the terminal generally.
Boarding our aircraft some hours later, it was exciting to again hear the familiar ‘ding’ that signified seatbelts needed to be fastened, the true signal that a holiday was indeed about to commence.
We arrived into Paris on a sunny Spring afternoon after 22 hours in the air, and a four hour layover in Doha, where things remained very much as we remembered them. The big teddy bear still sits in the middle of the departures terminal, and the coffee is still the most expensive in the Galaxy.
In Paris we disembarked into the arrivals concourse where the warm weather was giving the airconditioning a real challenge. We lined up, waiting to be processed by immigration, and braced ourselves for the interrogation and paperwork that International arrivals to Europe had been told to expect.
And, then, in the immortal words of Monty Python, ‘Suddenly!, Nothing happened!’
After having our passports stamped, we were ushered straight through into the arrivals baggage concourse, where we collected our packs and then, simply walked out.
We were confused, but we still had to obtain our French Health passes at one of the airport pharmacies. Maybe the dreaded interrogation of credentials would happen there.
But alas no. We were starting to feel like we had arrived into a John Cleese parallel universe as a French Pharmacist resembling a Gaelic Basil Fawlty, at first gave us an expression suggesting we were mad, and then explained that last week the French had decided to abandon its Health Pass system. The French it seemed, had pretty much decided to do away with almost all Covid-related control measures. Could we perhaps obtain our EU Digital Vaccination passes? Also no.
We were not sure whether to laugh at our luck, or cry at all the weeks wasted completing forms and getting tested. We celebrated by using the money saved to take a taxi to our Hotel in the city centre, rather than the planned airport bus.
Our travel itinerary had given us a couple of extra days to use, the result of our airline rescheduling its flights from Australia, and we had decided to invest one sightseeing in Paris. The next stage of our journey was a train leaving from the Garre Montparnasse station and our travel agent had found us a groovy artisan hotel near the station within which to base ourselves.
We checked in, suspiciously expecting a surprise request for EU or French health credentials at any moment, but alas, we were given the keys to our room and wished a happy stay. In our room, we threw open the balcony doors and immediately fell asleep to the warm air and afternoon sounds of Paris in Spring.
The following day we travelled to, and ascended both the Eiffel Tower and the Arc D’ Triumphe. The intention had been to walk everywhere, but we soon discovered that our hotel was much further from the Arc than anticipated.
It was just the opportunity Leo had been waiting for! A lover of electric scooters and bikes, he quickly had us subscribed to a bike co, and we were soon travelling effortlessly along the Seine and up the Champs-Élysées to it’s famous arch.
A visit to the Eiffel Tower soon followed where James got to finally complete his wish to ascend this landmark that he had first seen but not visited exactly 40 years ago, whilst undertaking the 20th Century version of a gap year – whatever that was.
Passing through the Embassy area we took the opportunity to contact the Australian Consul to seek clarification on the need for a EU Digital Vaccination Certificate. It was very pleasing to discover that the people on the ground were as confused as we were, and we jointly decided to create new International travel protocols to the effect that an Australian International Vaccination Certificate would suffice for travel in Europe. As this is written some time later, this seems to be working.
As the sun lowered we had one more task before returning to our Hotel. We sought and found the same small bakery and patisserie that had supplied us with train travel food on our last journey. It was wonderful to see it still flourishing and we filled our packs and stomachs with wonderful delicacies.
By some unfortunate stroke of luck, there was a small Creperie in the same building as our hotel, and we finished the day with delicious savoury and sweet creations before turning in, again to the sounds of Paris through open windows.
The itinerary for the following day was to complete our journey to Saint Jean Pied De Port, We arose early and crossed to the railway station in the pre-dawn light to board the TGV high-speed service to Bayonne, grabbing a quick coffee and croissant as we rushed through the station.
Trains seem to be one of the very few aspects of French life where mask wearing was still strictly observed, even to the exclusion of eating food. After a four hour journey we arrived into the seaside maritime town of Bayonne where we grabbed some lunch and wandered around this very pretty town, waiting for our final connection to SJPDP.
Arriving back into the railway station, we found the terminal now filled with people wearing multi-coloured high tech material clothes and grasping backpacks and hiking poles. It seemed we had finally joined our tribe of travellers.
By some unspoken etiquette on the Camino, it is rare to see pilgrims wearing clothes or items espousing personal or political viewpoints. Even countries of origin are rarely indicated, and if they are, usually by a discrete flag patch on a backpack, or similar. It was notable this time that not even the current Ukrainian conflict had resulted in any visible symbolism.
Despite this, a pilgrim’s country of origin can often be discerned by the clothes and equipment they have chosen. The French, Germans, Spanish and Scandinavian pilgrims all had their own domestic brands and style. The North American tribes are a little harder to tell apart, although the Canadian preference for their home-grown Acteryx gear is a good tell.
We were travelling incognito in effect, wearing a blend of Macpac (NZ) and small boutique US brands that very few would know, combined with Leo’s Italian Scarpa boots.
Using our practised eyes, were were able to discern travellers from a number of European and North American countries. We sidled over and started chatting to two individuals standing without a seat in the crowded room. David and Danielle both turned out to be Canadian, from Ontario and the Yukon respectively, and unknown to each other.
We were soon deeply engaged in the direct and open conversations for which the Camino is famous and these continued as we boarded our small local train, and then as we transferred to the bus midway, until we were deposited at the SJPDP railway station.
We were here! From this point forward, if things went to plan, we had just taken the last journey in either a plane, train or automobile for the next six weeks or so. It was all up to our feet now.
Our first task was to walk to the Pilgrim’s Office to have our pilgrim’s credentiales (passports) registered and activated, and then check into our accommodation.
Trying to appear to our new friends like we remembered where we were going, we led Danielle and David up the hill to the ancient main street of SJPDP that marked the start of the Camino Francés. Turning the corner and onto the narrow ancient street, bound on both sides by narrow tall stones buildings many centuries old, it felt wonderful to be back.
We lined up patiently until an English-speaking volunteer was available to see us. Our names and nationalities were entered onto the pilgrim’s register, and we were given up-to-date information about the trail ahead.
We were told that 100 pilgrims had registered this day, a far cry from the 500+ that arrived each day in peak season. This was good news as it meant there would be less competition for beds each night, an increasing challenge in recent times.
We were also told in no uncertain terms that the weather forecast was bad and the high trail over the Pyrenees, popularly known as the Napoleon route after the French Emperor took his army into Spain by that route, was closed!, closed!, closed! – and a big cross was marked on the map we had just been given. Message received!
Having completed our registration and briefing, we each selected a scallop shell from a basket and fastened these to our packs.
Formalities completed, and joined by the latest new member of our group, Emma, a medical student from Utrecht in the Netherlands (not Holland!), we agreed to meet later for dinner. We found and checked into our accommodation, noticing with sadness as we passed that the wonderful albergue from our previous journey had closed down.
It had been a regret of mine that during my last journey I had been pre-occupied with other aspects of undertaking the challenge of the Camino, and had not taken time to ‘smell the roses’ or be ‘in the moment’. Instead, I found myself focussing on or worrying about other things, either down the trail or elsewhere.
I am not a person of faith, but I do find myself relaxing and focusing when sitting still and quietly in old churches and cathedrals, the less ornate and distracting the better. There is something about a human-made space that is purposely a place of focus and quietness that instills in me the ability to just stop, and relax.
Because of this I started this Camino by taking the time to visit and sit in the medieval chapel in SJPDP adjacent the Porte Notre Dame. It was, pleasingly for me, a simple, but nicely illuminated space. There were a handful of other pilgrims, each spending time in quiet personal contemplation.
I did not stay long, although much longer than if I had been simply visiting to see the church as a tourist. Sitting down, I found I was able to focus on just being here, and that my over-active brain was letting go of the noise of my everyday life. It was a nice way to start what lay ahead, and I vowed to myself that I would do it a few more times in Spain. Besides, cathedrals had been a special topic of study for me as an architectural student and last time I did not visit a single one on the Camino.
We made a point of walking around SJPDP more than we had last time, and we bought Leo a locally made ring to wear on the journey before convening for dinner.
Later, as we settled down into the first of many squeaky bunk beds in a shared dormitory, we drifted to sleep with the exciting thought that tomorrow we would actually be walking The Camino!
Accommodation Paris: TimHotel, Montparnasse SJPDP: Le Chemin vers l’Etoile Albergue
Carrying all our Worldly belongings for the next 7 weeks. The strange big teddy bear is still in Doha!…wondering where all the health checks are at Paris AirportOur groovy hotel in downtown Paris, complete with its own creperie!What happens when the architect leaves the stair guy the space leftovers.What would Paris be without a balcony?E-biking ParisThe Arc…….….and the Tower in the City of LightRocking our hiking gear in Paris mode to blend in!Visiting an old friend to pick up supplies Frantically trying to keep the local creperie in business! Time………to catch a train. TGV to BayonneBayonne old town…Seems like yesterday….With David and DaniellePre-hike briefing at the SJPDP pilgrim’s office …..”The Napoleon Route is CLOSED! CLOSED! CLOSED”!Main street of SJPDP – putting our feet back on The Way at last! Pilgrim accommodation from here forth – digs for the nightOur wonderful albergue of 2019….……..sadly now closed and for saleEd’s photo – the obligatory SJPDP photo of the pilgrim bridge crossing the river
The inaugural formal meeting of our Camino Family to agree terms of reference…dinner with co-founding members Yukon Danielle, and Utrecht Emma.
St Jean Pied De Port to Roncesvalles (km 0 to km 25)
Today, at last, we began our Camino. It was a tough day, but it was also a wonderful feeling to be on The Way again. It was a very different experience from our previous journey here – a different route, different people and different weather which all added to the excitement of starting a new Camino.
We had set our alarms to wake us early and the pre-dawn light of a dark day was just detectable around the edges of the drawn curtains. A quick weather check showed a cool and wet day ahead – a maximum temperature of 11°C and a 100% chance of rain.
There were a few others in the albergue and it seemed for awhile that no one wanted to be the first to turn their light on and start making noise, everyone uncertain yet how Camino dormitory etiquette worked. Eventually, by silent consensus we all got out of our creaky bunks and began our preparations.
Leo and I dressed, packed up our sleeping gear and generally put our backpacks in order. I had to laugh, despite all our prior experience, it seemed we had forgotten how to do things. Three years ago, on the first day it had taken ages to get ready to leave – I am sure everything got removed and re-packed several times before we departed. By the end of our journey we had it down to a fine art – five minutes, shoes on, done!
As I stood, looking at all of our kit spread upon the floor, seemingly for metres in all directions, we were back to square one. We really were treating this like a new Camino.
Our packs eventually stowed, and with our wet weather kit on, we made our way to have breakfast. There was only one other pilgrim in the kitchen – Annie from Amsterdam, and we had a quick chat as we selected our meals from the buffet on offer. She was in a hurry to be on her way.
Last time in Spain, I had developed a love of a coffee and a plain fresh croissant for breakfast. This combination had continued to be my treat day starter whenever the opportunity arose, which was not often. I was pleased to find a basket of still-warm fresh croissants waiting – made in France too!
Our minds were of course filled with the memories of our last journey and there was an urge to point out familiar things whenever we saw them, but we had agreed to try and contain our reminiscing around others so that they could experience everything ‘unspoiled’.
We were due to meet Danielle at 8am out front and she arrived with other pilgrims she had met at her albergue – Josh from California, Thomas from Germany, and Amy from Taiwan. We all exchanged hearty Buen Caminos! – an opportunity to start using this universal term of greeting on The Way. The pronunciation of buen takes a little bit of practice to master, particularly for people with English as a first language who often turn it into the two syllable boo-enn or even booo-when.
Content with our first attempts at pronunciation, we-happy-few formed up and began our walk up the Old Town main street and through the Porte D’Espagne gateway that marks the beginning of the Camino Francés.
The famous yellow arrows and Camino markers began to appear almost immediately, raising our sense of excitement and anticipation – they were just like in the movies and documentaries – we really were here now and doing it!
We soon came to the point where pilgrims choose the route they will take to cross the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles – either the Napoleon Route, requiring a 1400m climb over the exposed mountain top, or the Valcarlos route travelling up the valley to a pass between the mountains, but still requiring a climb of 1100m before the day’s end.
This simple fork in the trail had been the cause of many hours of deliberation for us, and also it seemed, for many others. The Napoleon Route is considered a defining part of the Camino Francés for many, offering a significant challenge on the first day that provides a sense of accomplishment, as well as spectacular views in clear weather.
It is however, subject to weather conditions that can quickly change and turn dangerous. Many pilgrims have needed to be rescued and some have perished when conditions have deteriorated. On our last journey a report came through two weeks after we had walked the route that 27 pilgrims had been rescued by helicopter in the last week of April.
To minimise the risk to pilgrims and rescuers the Spanish section of Napoleon route is now strictly closed from 01 November to 31 March. It is also closed when weather conditions dictate and there are daily weather updates for pilgrims to check.
We had been keen to do the Napoleon Route again and had planned our journey so that we would arrive in SJPDP just as the route was due to re-open. Talking to others we were certainly not alone in this approach. However, the weather had conspired against our plan. The beautiful French Spring conditions we had experienced early in the week were now forecast to deteriorate badly and the volunteers at the Pilgrim’s Office had confirmed the Napoleon Route would remain closed for at least a couple of days.
The choice for each pilgrim was, depart today and walk the Valcarlos route or, wait until the weather cleared and the Napoleon Route re-opened. We were disappointed but we were keen to start our journey and we had walked the Napoleon Route before. This was an opportunity for us to try the Valcarlos route, a new experience which many had advised was a very nice walk and should not be considered a consolation prize.
For those who were here for the first time, with their heart’s set on walking over the mountains, it was a much harder decision. Eventually quite a few people decided to wait, including David from Canada whom we had met the previous day. He later told us that prolonged bad weather had kept the Napoleon Route closed for many more days and ultimately most walked the Valcarlos route.
And so now we briefly took our photos at the fork in the road and turned right.
Today’s plan was to cross the Pyrenees mountains. Our route would entail walking 25km up a steep-sided valley that gradually gained altitude at steeper and steeper gradients until we crossed a pass into Spain near the end of the day. Stage one is famously one of the hardest of the entire journey irrespective of which route you choose.
The Camino pathway would share its time equally travelling on quiet farm roads, natural trails along the river at the base of the valley, and a main transport road between France and Spain.
Leaving the white houses of SJPDP behind us, we were soon walking along narrow roads between farm houses and lush green pastures with cows and horses watching as we passed. The sky above was an ever-changing patchwork of clouds of various colours moving in different directions and fleeting glimpses of bright blue sky far above.
The lowest and darkest clouds were barely clearing the tree-capped hills around us, and, as we steadily gained height, we could see wisps of the cloud base floating in the valley below us.
The weather stayed true to the forecast, and we found ourselves walking through short showers for most of the day – just enough to make us keep our wet weather gear on.
We soon chanced upon Kathrine from Denmark travelling by herself and we swept her up into our merry group as we walked and got to know each other. It seemed we all had one thing in common, everyone was a long-hauler – we were all planning to try and make it to Santiago de Compostela.
As we travelled the terrain started to change. The rolling green pastures gave way to steep hillsides coveted in trees and eventually became the mountainsides framing the valley we were to walk up and out of by day’s end. We walked on a local road cut into the side of the mountain while below us we were aware of a river and main transport road at the base of the valley.
Our group’s walking pace was almost as fast as our animated conversations and we soon arrived into the town of Arneguy, which was a third of the day’s total distance. The easy third.
It had started raining yet again and some of us peeled off to have our first Camino coffee stop. As we walked in, we were immediately conscious that everyone in the building was wearing a mask – something that had been practically non-existent in France. ¿Estamos en España? We tried to ask in our best Spanglish. sí! came the answer.
We were in Spain!, or to be slightly more correct, we were in the Basque country. We later discovered that the border did some sudden changes of direction in these parts and we had departed France when we had walked across the carpark out front.
It was time to celebrate in the best way possible – we ordered cafe con leche – coffee with milk – the near legendary coffee served along the length of the Camino within Spain.
With a hot beverage and napolitana pastry under our belts, we stepped out and continued on. Given the rain we elected to bypass the optional scenic route and continued along the small side road, which promptly deposited us on the main road through the valley.
There was practically no verge between the road carriage way and the crash barrier on the edge of the steep valley and it was apparent that the drivers of the large trucks and buses had their hands full with the twisting road. It made for some interesting scrambles as we did our best to get out of their way.
As we arrived into Valcarlos we did a head count and pleasingly found that we had all made it in one piece. We were little over half-way to Roncesvalles, but as this was the last opportunity to have something to eat we declared lunch. The sun appeared for a short while and everyone took the chance to remove wet gear and their footwear to let feet breathe and everything dry out.
I decided to give lunch a miss – after our coffee stop snack I wasn’t hungry. It was something I was to regret.
Conversely, in a move that proved to be insightful, especially given what was to come, Kathrine declared she was going to stop in Valcarlos for the night after an enjoyable first day’s walking on The Way. She did not want to overdue it on her first day and preferred to ease her way into the journey. It is a common mistake for pilgrims to start out hard and quickly encounter issues with feet and legs. We were sorry to lose her cheerful company, but we exchanged contact details and we were sure we would see here again soon.
For the next three hours, we tackled the big challenge of the day and hiked our way up to Ibañeta Pass, gaining over 700 metres in altitude in the process. It proved to be tough going.
Leaving Valcarlos, we were treated to some natural beauty as the trail left the road and weaved its way through the forest alongside the rio Chapilets river that was rushing down the valley. As we walked, we started to see signs of pilgrim trailside creations here and there, a tower of stacked stones, a small statue left on top of a waymarker. It was nice to be back on the Camino again.
To our left, was the towering presence of the Col de Lepoeder, the mountain over which the Napoleon route travelled and the top was obscured by dark angry clouds. It looked like it had been a good idea to give that route a miss this time.
The trail gradually steepened as it led us up to the pass we knew was above, although it remained out of sight. Despite our physical preparations for the previous months, we needed to pause every so often to draw breath.
The challenge of the climb quickly fragmented our morning group as each member found a pace they could sustain, or at least survive. Leo and I found ourselves travelling alone, with some of our group well behind, and others well in front.
We saw the trail leading up to a carpark guardrail above us, and we put in a concerted effort to crest the top, only to realise when our eyes would refocus, that it wasn’t the top at all. This was turning into a serious climb.
As we paused and caught our breath amongst the growing number of recuperating pilgrims around us, we noticed the weather was starting to take an ominous turn. A heavier rain began to fall, the temperature was dropping and we found we were now well above the cloud base. We limited our stop and pushed onwards, not wanting to get caught in the approaching bad conditions.
The last kilometres to the top were incredibly challenging physically and mentally and I was really regretting skipping a decent lunch, as my energy reserves vanished. The weather was deteriorating and the mist had brought visibility down to 10 or 20 metres, concealing our end destination and making the pathway feel like it would go on forever.
In a reversal from our last journey, Leo, now 9 inches taller and three years older, proved the stronger climber and slowly pulled ahead and out of sight into the mist. Eventually, I heard him call that he was at the top and that I was almost there. His concern for me gave me a warm parental sense of pride and it was a great relief to crest the real summit of the pass this time.
We celebrated briefly next to the chapel at the top and then turned and walked the short descent to Roncesvalles through the unique woods that grow on the lee side of these mountains with little undergrowth. In seemingly no time, the familiar and welcome sight of the large Monastery building that is the main albergue appeared and we soon stepped through the heavy timber doors and went inside.
There was quite a crowd arriving, all cold and damp. While everyone was waiting their turn to check-in, the cheerful Dutch Hospitaleros managing the albergue, provided hot glasses of tea to warm us up. It was a very welcome gesture.
Last time we had walked the Camino, it became evident that there was limited accommodation available at the key overnight stopping points between SJPDP and Pamplona. We had seen pilgrims arriving late at Roncesvalles after what had been a very challenging day crossing the mountain and being informed there were no more beds. They would need to walk onto the next town. Our hearts had gone out to them.
On the very next day of our journey three years ago we too had failed to find beds at our destination town. Ultimately we caught a taxi to another to find a place to stay. It worked but we were separated from our travel companions at the time. It was a lesson learned for us. No romantic freelance pilgrim stuff involving travel without booking accommodation until after Pamplona.
This year it had become possible to book online for the Roncesvalles albergue, possibly to manage numbers during the pandemic, and we had quickly done this when our travel dates were known. Today we checked in by having our passports scanned and our pilgrims credentiales stamped. We also purchased tickets for the evening meal before removing our footwear in the boot room and climbing the stairs to locate our bunks.
Things upstairs in the dormitories were just as we remembered them. We found ourselves sharing our 4-bunk bay with Jim and Jon from the UK – two best mates travelling the Way and bringing a wickedly dry sense of humour with them. Leo also befriended Paul from the UK in the neighbouring bay.
In-between bantering with our new neighbours, Leo and I unpacked and, after several days on the road, we made use of the laundry service run by the albergue. Four Euro for a basket of laundry to be washed, dried and folded. In the circumstances it was a bargain!
The showers at Roncesvalles were wonderful – hot and strong. I got to them later than most so didn’t have a line behind me and could spend a few minutes with near-scalding hot water working on my neck and shoulder muscles. It was just glorious.
As dusk was falling the temperature outside dropped and it started to snow! For all the Northern Hemisphere hikers the news was met with indifference, or a groan, but for us it was a different story. As I returned from showering and caught up with the news, someone said, “Look!, there’s some idiot running around outside” to which the laughing reply came from another direction “He’s an Aussie” – that explained everything.
Sure enough, looking out of our first floor window, there was Leo, complete with wet hair from his shower, no doubt turning to icicles, walking around in the courtyard and taking in the wonder of falling snow for the first time in his life. The sight of the white flakes falling on the medieval buildings and the forest beyond was indeed magical.
We had made it over the pass before the bad weather closed in, but not all did and several needed assistance. A Policía Nacional 4WD pulled up outside and out hopped Thomas and another pilgrim – Birgita from Germany. Once again Thomas was wearing his wide laconic smile, and apparently the two had been given unique Policía Nacional Pilgrim’s credentiales. Some people will do anything to be special.
Once again we enjoyed dinner with Danielle and Emma. This time it was a pilgrim menu meal, the first of many to come. Three courses, each with choices, and a bottle of wine or drink for a few Euros. It was affordable, simple and it filled us up. Leo had arranged to meet UK Paul and a few others at one of the other venues and excused himself while we chatted and had coffee.
In 2019, Leo had not brought a phone to Spain so we could turn off the outside World and focus on our journey. This time, Leo had a phone for the purpose of Camino business – taking photos, navigation and staying in touch with others on the trail. He also had a credit card to give him a level of independence to buy drinks and food for himself and others.
As happened last time, Leo liked to make his around at the end of each day and introduce himself to people he had not met yet. Very much a social butterfly by character. As a result, it was rare for me to meet people that did not already know Leo. I think more people knew me as Leo’s Dad rather than James.
Later, as we got ready for bed he told me he had met many great people during the day including Renata from Lithuania, Tess from France, Amy from Michigan and Irek from Poland. He was sure that Amy was actually Anne Hathaway travelling incognito. I looked forward to meeting them all.
We had indeed met some wonderful people on this our first day. On our first Camino, it turned out that a large portion of our closest Camino friends, or ‘Camino Family’ ended up being people we encountered within the first 24 hours of leaving SJPDP. This was possibly because the shared experience of doing the whole journey together creates a particularly special bond. I wondered how it would be this time.
Before turning, in we attended a short pilgrim’s mass and blessing conducted in the Royal Collegiate Church adjacent the albergue. It was a small and intimate service and I found the solo chants sung by the monks, which is a style of music I enjoy, to be very peaceful and moving.
At the end of the mass, all present were invited forward to receive a blessing. The monastery at Roncesvalles was founded in the Middle Ages upon a mission to support all pilgrims regardless of whether they were of faith or not. Tonight’s blessing was simple and openly delivered to provide a positive message and best wishes to all for a Buen Camino – a Good Way.
It was dark and cold outside, the snow continuing to fall. We dashed back to the albergue, said our goodnights to our friends, made our way to our bunks and snuggled into our sleeping bags. At 10pm, the normal curfew time in albergues, the lights automatically turned off.
Our first day on The Way had been challenging but ultimately, wonderful. We had already made some great new friends, overcome (just) one of the biggest physical challenges of the entire journey, experienced a new section of The Camino and arrived into the magical setting of Roncesvalles in the snow.
It had been a completely different experience to our last journey in almost all respects. As we quickly fell asleep after the efforts of the day I sensed we were going to have some great weeks ahead.
Accommodation: Albergue Real Colegiata Conv., Roncesvalles
Weather check – Hmmm, wet weather gear it is.
Packed at last, ready for Breakfast
A quick shop at the bakery across the street to get emergency supplies – freshly baked baguettes. Note the fresh baguette vending machine behind me – hopefully it will catch on!
Danielle brings a flock of pilgrims up the Old Town’s main street
Time to do this thing! – leaving SJPDP Old Town through the Porte D’Espagne with our companions for the day
Camino siblings – Leo and Danielle
We happy few – Danielle, Josh, Leo, Amy and Thomas – at first the trail travelled through lush farmland
Talking to the locals
As we gained height we were soon amongst the mist of the clouds
Leo and Kathrine chat as they walk, We remained on quiet roads for much of the morning.
España! – sitting down for our first Camino cafe con leche in Arneguy, after discovering we had just crossed the Spanish border walking across the cafe carpark. Kathrine, Danielle, Josh, James and Leo
Pure Camino – cafe con leche, napolitana con chocolat and the Brierly guide.
Kathrine from Denmark. Her cheerfulness was certainly missed as things got tough later on.
Reunion with an old friend! – Cola Cao chocolate milk power and hot milk – hot chocolate Spanish style.
The trail shared the main road for a portion of the day which kept us on our toes
After hours of roads we were treated to a natural trail
Running water was the soundtrack of the day – There was plenty coming off the surrounding mountains
The Camino weaves its way up the river
Danielle from Yukon – in her element. But no bears in this neck of the woods!.
Josh from California – dreaming of the Camino for a long time
Thomas from Germany – always ready with a smile
Boy on a bridge
Pilgrim trailside creations…
Pilgrims leave their colourful mark. it was good to be back on The Camino
The trail heads up
And up.
Made it! – arriving at Ibañeta Pass – the high point of the day
Letting our legs carry us down the last few kilometres into Roncesvalles with Jeva from Lithuania and Connie from breakfast time
Cold and tired pilgrims file into the albergue lobby and are welcomed by the Dutch Hospitaleros with a hot drink as they wait to check-in
Check-in
Leo in 2019 – Nothing in the dormitory had changed. .
Thomas and Birgita arrive in style!
The things some people will do to get a special credentiale!
There’s an idiot out there in the cold! Leo enjoys the wonder of falling snow
Bunk bay companions for the night with a wicked sense of humour – Jim and Jon from the UK
The beautiful cobbled ground floor of the albergue. The old monastery building has been restored and converted very nicely.
Today was a magical day on The Way that was unlike anything we have experienced before.
Last time we travelled the Camino this stage of the trail was regarded by many of our friends as their favourite of the whole journey. Today, this beautiful section of the trail was dressed with snow, transforming it into a winter wonderland.
This morning we were awoken at 6am as the lights in the dormitory came on automatically. As our eyes adjusted to the brightness we could see others already up and getting ready. We hadn’t heard them at all, clearly we had been sleeping deeply after yesterday’s efforts.
I did a quick weather check on my phone and blinked. The forecast was something completely alien to our experience and took a few seconds to sink in. Severe weather with disruption due to snow and ice, and a maximum temperature of -1°C. Wow! I didn’t know whether to be excited or terrified. Our UK colleagues seemed to be taking it in their stride and getting ready so I figured we would just follow their example.
As we got up the sound of Gregorian chants started being played through the dormitory. I recognised the music as a recording I had at home by the monks of the Monasterio de Santo Domingo de Silos. In 2019 two of our Camino friends had been privileged to spend a week living with the monks at the Silos Monastery, located near Burgos. They had related the beautiful chants of the famous singing monks and I had subsequently found a recording. It now lives in my car for when I need a peaceful distraction from peak-hour traffic. Today, what better way to awaken in a Monastery and prepare for a day’s travel on The Way?
Leo ventured over to the window overlooking the courtyard below which was illuminated by spotlights at this pre-dawn hour. Wow! he exclaimed – there was a gleaming carpet of white snow over everything. He couldn’t wait to get out there. Suddenly motivated, we were soon dressed, packed, had said our Buen Caminos, pulled on our footwear and stepped out. There were no tracks in the pristine snow – we were the first ones to leave.
The sight of the medieval buildings coated in snow was magical to us, very much like childhood fairy tales and storybooks. We were all chatter and excitement as we made our way to the nearby hotel under near-black skies to have breakfast, each footstep squeaking on the dry snow.
We were not staying for the pre-set pilgrim’s breakfast as last time it had not been very filling and we were also keen to get underway after a quick heart-starter. We placed our packs in the corner of the front room and ordered coffee, Cola Cao (hot chocolate) and napolitana pastries at the bar. We had learned to embrace the Camino concept of second breakfasts last time, usually comprising more coffee and something to eat an hour or two after setting out. For now the aim was to have a quick hit of caffeine and something to get us moving.
The bar was doing good business preparing take away food for pilgrims and we also ordered a couple of bacon bocadillos (baguette sandwiches) to take with us for lunch. The foil packages were still warm and substantial and I put them in a plastic bag and tucked them into my pack as we departed.
We stepped out at 8am – pretty much the traditional start time for us last time and it was looking like it would be the same again this journey. Whilst we had been inside the sun had apparently awoken late and arisen very quickly and we emerged into a bright but overcast day. The sky above was an uneven canopy of clouds of different shades of grey with not a glimpse of blue. The diffused sunlight was reflected by the snow laying on the ground for as far as the eye could see.
The distant views were obscured by light falling snow and the mountains appeared as dark shadows against the lighter clouds. The nearby tall dark pine trees contrasted sharply against the otherwise monochromatic scenery around us. Across the road a number of horses in a large pasture were silhouetted against the white blanket on the ground. Their bells clinked with each head movement as they nibbled on grass exposed where the herd had walked, the sounds captured and dulled by the snow.
We met up with Danielle and Josh outside the monastery and took the obligatory photos of each other with the Santiago de Compostela 790km sign that marked the beginning of today’s trail, before setting off. We followed the pathway into a stand of trees following the nearby road and Leo and Danielle chatted whilst I trailed, trying to take everything in as we walked.
The overnight snow had passed through the tree canopies and covered the ground and pathway beneath them. Neither Leo or I had ever walked through snow covered country before and the word magical, magical, magical just kept passing through my mind. In what was to be the pattern of the day, the snow started to fall again with greater intensity and visibility dropped as we walked on.
In his excitement to get out the door this morning Leo had not taped his feet against blisters, and we stopped to deal with a hot spot whilst Danielle and Josh moved onwards. Leo and I were soon walking by ourselves, or at least not within sight of any others given the limited visibility. We were in our own little world of wonder and discovery.
It was a day of happy reminiscing for us. The last time we had walked this part of the Camino it had been after a horrendous day crossing over the Pyrenees in winds that had literally reduced some people to crawling on their hands and knees. The challenging experience of the previous day, the beautiful scenery and the still conditions had made everyone want to connect with others and we had enjoyed many memorable chats that would blossom into strong friendships in the weeks that followed.
Now, as we walked our conversation bounced between pointing out things of beauty and interest around us and remembering the events of 2019 as we passed the places where they had happened. We walked through the villages, over the small bridges and through the self-closing wooden gates that we remembered vividly from last time.
Today as before the conditions were still, the occasional distant horse bell and the squelching of our feet was joined only by the chatting of birds in the surrounding bushes who seemed to be very cheerful on this cold morning. We saw no locals as we walked and the only movement at all were a couple of tractors in the far off fields.
Arriving into the village of Aurizberri, the snow still falling, we heard the muted sound of piped classical piano music from up ahead, the only sign of life in an otherwise eerily-still village. It was coming from a bar where we had stopped last time and we shook the snow off our packs, stowed them outside under the eaves and went inside.
Behind the counter we recognised the same owner who greeted everyone warmly as they walked in, before reminding them gently to put on their masks and not so gently to shut the door against the cold. In 2019 this had been the scene of our first attempt to order something at a Spanish café when Leo had been hungry after an inadequate breakfast. Nodding politely at my attempts to mangle his language, the owner had perceived the problem, asked Leo directly what he would like and happily agreed to the request for bacon and eggs, even though it was not on the menu. It was an early exposure to the kindness we would encounter along The Way.
This time we ordered cafe con leche and freshly made tortilla – the egg and potato omelette served at just about every bar and cafe along The Camino. The tortilla was hot out of the oven and delicious. We would probably hit our ‘tortilla overload threshold’ somewhere along the trail, but for now it was another taste that reaffirmed we were again in Spain. We were soon joined by Emma who was also seeking some warmth from the cold conditions.
Our meals finished, we left Emma happily still warming herself and continued onwards, certain to be seeing her at the end of the day in Zubiri. Despite the cold the snow on the ground had started to melt and the trail increasingly transformed into slush and puddles as the day progressed. Leo had no issues in his waterproof boots, but, after a couple of misplaced steps my ventilated trail runners were soon filled with water. Fortunately I was wearing my thick woolen hiking socks and my wet feet stayed warm.
At one stage the trail followed a flagstone pathway for a couple of kilometres, which proved treacherously slippery in the conditions, but otherwise we walked on earthen trails and made good progress. Approaching Bizkarreta-Gerendian we crossed the fast flowing stream using the well-known concrete block stepping stone ‘bridge’ and walked into the village looking for some lunch with memories of busy cafes. Alas this time they were not busy, or even open. This town too was still and quiet.
We stopped at a closed café with an undercover seating area providing some shelter from the falling snow. We dusted off a couple of chairs and congratulated ourselves on having the foresight to buy our bacon bocadillos earlier. For or a minute at least. Upon opening them we belatedly discovered that our bocadillos not only contained bacon, but also egg omelette. We had previously learnt, but since forgotten, that whilst bocadillo simply means ‘sandwich’, on The Camino it often means a sandwich including tortilla or omelette filling – a sort of Spanglish trail slang.
The omelette had been hot, but after hours cooling and sweating in the cold weather, was now cold and watery, transforming the whole sandwich into a soggy offering. It was not one of our better Camino meals.
When approaching the café, we had stepped around a pile of fresh baguettes that looked to have been thrown onto the snowy ground. As we sought the fortitude to tackle our lunch, we watched with interest as a bakery delivery van drove up and skidded to a halt, the frustrated driver picked up all the bread, and drove off again – to the disappointment of a three-legged dog that had been eyeing it off hopefully. We distracted ourselves from our lunch by hypothesising the chain of events lying behind the abandoned bread and the small village characters involved, coloured by countless TV murder-mysteries. Maybe there was more to Bizkarreta-Gerendian than met the eye.
Through the afternoon we walked through forests and under trees laden with snow. Leo attempted to knock a particularly big branch-load on my head using his hiking poles but it back-fired spectacularly. The scenery really was beautiful, the narrow trail winding through hills covered in trees and passing occasionally through fences with small timber gates, the upper surfaces of everything with precariously balanced snow on them.
We were quite alone, but the occasional Camino waymarker and fresh footsteps on the pathway gave us a sense of sharing the experience with other pilgrims. This and daylight kept at bay my one absolute fear – wolves – the consequence of a childhood dog attack and too much exposure to Sergei Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf, with its picture book of huge-fanged wolves in snow-covered forests. Spain is one of the few countries where wolves still roam wild, although thankfully I knew they were not in this province. Maybe the Camino was going to give me more therapy than I had anticipated this time around.
As we drew closer to Zubiri and climbed the hill that we would soon descend again into the town, we suddenly found ourselves under blue sky and bathed in sunshine. The bright sunlight created sharp shadows under the trees that contrasted sharply against the illuminated white snow and I embarked on a whole new round of photos to try and capture a small drop of the magic around us.
As we reached the final hilltop for the day, we caught up with Danielle, also clearly revelling in the pleasure of the sunlight. We stopped for a quick coffee at an unusual pop-up café presumably designed to blend in with the surrounding rocks but actually resembling a concrete bunker decorated with cave paintings. I laughed. Being an architect, I had no trouble imagining the contorted process and requirements that had probably led to this unique re-interpretation of history to satisfy the local planning authorities. Any ‘blending-in’ benefits seemed to be offset by the white van with signage parked next to it.
After digesting the equally interesting, but thankfully hot, coffee, we geared up to tackle the major challenge of the day. As we started moving we noticed a Camino waymarker with a snowman built on top of it – a pilgrim creation to cheer those who followed. Then we noticed Leo’s name spelt out in sticks at its base – it was a present for the boy from Australia who had never walked in snow. It must have been Josh – full of energy and revelling in every moment of his time on the Camino, a place he had been longing to travel for a long time. And sure enough, we later found out it had been.
There are three difficult descents on the Camino Francés that had ingrained themselves upon our memories. The first of these is the descent into Zubiri. Not especially long or steep, its challenge comes from the pathway travelling across uneven and sharp stratified rock with fissures and level differences, each capable of twisting an ankle or worse. It demands constant focus and accurate foot placement at the end of a day’s hiking, just when weariness and distraction are starting to set in. Today the challenge was amplified by the partial snow cover concealing the trail and the wet slippery rocks, although fortunately the sun continued to shine.
We soon met Natalie from UK, carefully making her way down, and the four of us just managed to get to the bottom in one piece and pass the Zubiri town sign before the grey clouds once again shut out the blue sky, and the snow resumed with renewed vigor. We said our quick goodbyes to Danielle, who had accommodation booked a little further down the trail, and we crossed the famous 12th century Puente de la Rabia, or ‘Rabies Bridge’ into Zubiri where our accommodation waited.
The bridge’s name originates from a medieval legend which held that animals passing under the bridge, or circling its centre pillar, would be cured of rabies. Looking at the rushing waters below it seemed that trying to access the ‘cure’ might have entailed the poor patient being swept down the river. Fortunately, given the weather, we were all feeling fine and did not need to test the theory.
As a pilgrim Zubiri is a curious town. It is the designated 2nd stage destination by most Camino guide books and apps, and yet it seems to lack the amount of accommodation and other facilities that pilgrims might need. Many of the facilities it does have often seem to be closed. In 2019 we had walked into the town to be confronted by a plaza filled with pilgrims with open guidebooks on their laps and phones to their ears – a sign we would soon recognise as people trying to find accommodation.
Sure enough, the albergues that day were full. The main municipal albergue, possessing about a third of the total pilgrim accommodation in the town, was closed. A stop-gap measure that seems to be used often is for pilgrims to be offered an exercise mat on the school gymnasium floor to sleep on. We encountered a surprising number of pilgrims who had braved this option and counted it as their never-to-be-repeated authentic medieval pilgrim’s experience for the journey.
We had solved the problem last time with a taxi to another town, but as a result we had missed a night meeting other pilgrims. We were determined to stay in the town at least once and as soon as we had decided to return to Spain in 2022, our very first job was to book accommodation in Zubiri.
I had booked an albergue just at the other end of the bridge, which emerged out of the snow as we crossed. We were met at the door by the very friendly owner, and seeing Leo’s age, he immediately upgraded us from a bunk room to a private room which was very comfortable. We got to meet some fellow travellers in the garage where boots were required to be stowed, and an extensive array of clothes lines was set up for pilgrims to hang their wet clothes. We had some good chats as we joined others stuffing their shoes with newspaper – the simple but effective way to absorb moisture and help dry them out.
Later, showered and settled, we went out looking for a meal. The snow had stopped and we crunched up the road, resplendent in our trail sandals and socks. We remembered a café in the centre of town but it was closed and we eventually found the only place to eat that was open – a bar at the extremity of the town. As we stepped inside we found the room was filled with many familiar happy faces, all wearing distinctive pilgrim ‘evening wear’. We were invited to join a large table and Leo proceeded to introduce me to everyone, having met most of them the previous night.
It was a fantastic evening – we selected from the pilgrims menu and spent the next couple of hours sharing a drink or three and catching up with those we knew and meeting those we didn’t, before eventually wandering back to our albergue.
We were soon snuggling down into our beds – enjoying the luxury of cotton sheets without bunks or sleeping bags for a night. It had been a unique and magical day for us, walking through the snow, and then catching up with what had already become a big group of trail friends. Already after just two nights this Camino was proving to be a very different experience and we fell asleep with tired legs and excited anticipation of what tomorrow might bring.
Accommodation: Albergue Rio Arga Ibaia, Zubiri
Wow!
An amazing sight greets us in the morning
In the boot room, excited to get outside
Making our way to have breakfast – served at the two hotels adjacent the albergue
Roncesvalles
The famous sign in 2019
Still there in 2022
Woohoo!
Danielle and Leo set off
Camino arrows start to appear on any available object
Footsteps in the snow and trail markers kept us on course.
Not a local in sight
At every bridge and gate…
…there were lots of memories
The bells on the horses still rang across the countryside – this time running for their feed bales
Cafe open for 2nd breakfasts and shelter from the snow – what more do you need?
The ubiquitous egg and potato Tortilla and cafe con leche
With Emma
This guy had plenty to say to everyone who passed.
Strike a pose
Each new scene demanded a photo.
Leo tackles a well known Camino river crossing
Summoning the strength to eat our baguette à la cold soggy egg – the black crate and pile of baguettes at the centre of a village drama just visible in the background
The day was filled with magical sights, and thankfully no wolves
Leo attempts skiing – sans skis
Just when we thought we had had enough magical scenes for the day – the sun came out and made everything extra magical
Happy chappies
The unique camouflaged pop-up cafe – drawing its inspiration from prehistoric Neanderthal concrete bunkers – with manicured lawn.
Danielle, Leo & James
Josh leaves a gift in the snow for Leo
Leo and Danielle navigate the descent into Zubiri – one of the three bad downhills on the Camino Francés. Even trickier when the uneven rocks are wet and covered with snow
We arrive safely into Zubiri, just in time for more snow – Leo, James, Nat & Danielle
Our accommodation emerges out of the snow as we cross Puente de la Rabie – the ‘rabies’ bridge into town. Fortunately none of us needed curing as it was too cold to get in the river.
The only place open in town, eventually everyone found there way here once they found out it existed. By now the temperature was a sweltering 2.5°C
One end of the table: Nat, Irek, Leo, Emma, Paul, Tess & Thomas
The other end: Josh, Hilde, Jon, Jim & James
Thomas, Nat and Josh
Pilgrim’s menu for the night…
The serves were very generous – the entire tureen of soup in the background was the first course for one person
During the past 48 hours we have travelled The Way to, and then enjoyed a rest day in, the beautiful historic city of Pamplona.
Yesterday morning we awoke early in Zubiri and packed our gear with a little more organisation and speed than our previous attempts. It seemed we were starting to get in the swing of things again. In the drying room my trail runners had managed to dry out completely overnight, but Leo’s boots were still a bit damp, the downside of ‘waterproof’ footwear being that when they eventually do get wet, they take longer to dry out. Given the day’s conditions our feet were no doubt going to be subjected to another soaking on the trail so we taped and prepped our feet, put on our footwear, grabbed our poles and stepped out.
It was a brisk but stunning morning. We walked to the apex of the bridge and looked around us – it was like a White Christmas postcard scene. The early morning sun was still hidden behind the nearby hills but it was illuminating the moving clouds overhead with the warm colours of dawn against a luminous blue sky. The medieval stone bridge and town buildings, the roads and fields, and the trees were all dressed in coats of fresh snow. Here and there were the smallest hints of pink blossoms on nearby fruit trees, and the fast flowing river was a turning torrent of dark greens.
Later, as we walked we passed small lambs huddled for warmth, sheep and horses within pastures enclosed with paling fences dusted with snow, the finishing touches to the idyllic landscape.
The weather forecast for the day was similar to that of the one before – severe conditions, cold temperatures and 100% chance of snow, but for now the air was clear.
We had a quick look to see if any eateries were open for a coffee or breakfast in Zubiri, without success, before crossing the bridge and re-joining the Camino pathway.
The day’s walking route took us on an undulating journey that loosely followed the Rio Arga all the way to Pamplona, a distance of 20km. At times we walked alongside the river to the sounds of rushing water, at others the trail diverted up into quiet hillside forests to navigate its way around cliffs before re-joining the river again.
Often the pathway was a narrow, earthen trail, bound on each side with farm fences as it ducked under trees and hopped over the small streams feeding the river. The overhanging branches and brambles sagged low under the weight of snow, requiring us to limbo our way under to avoid dumping loads of snow on ourselves – usually without a lot of success. The snow cover on the trail was progressively transformed into slush and mud with the passage of each successive hiker, the narrow pathway offering few opportunities to divert around the developing quagmires.
For much of the morning glimpses of blue sky were visible between the grey clouds and the crystal clear air allowed some spectacular views across the valley. Occasionally the sun would find gaps in the clouds and illuminate the countryside with its golden light and it kept our spirits high despite the cold and the mud creeping into our footwear. Even the large Magna processing plant near Zubiri almost avoided looking unattractive under its blanket of snow.
As we travelled we passed sights we remembered from 2019, the Basque country mural on the barn, the 12th Century Church of St Lucy, and the noisy geese protecting the house nearby.
By late morning Leo and I were feeling the lack of a breakfast, having had no success finding an open cafe or bar in any of the small hamlets we had passed. From 2019 we remembered a large café at Zurain, next to a bridge over the river, where we had enjoyed a great meal with many other pilgrims whilst listening to live music. It was around the halfway mark of the day’s total distance and we kept moving with the aim of making it there for brunch.
The lack of places to stop, and the narrow single-file track meant there were many chances to meet new faces, and have quick chats with familiar ones as pilgrims passed each other according to their walking paces. For awhile we found ourselves walking with Jeva from Lithuania, whom we had met on day one, and an American pilgrim who had needed to start her Camino at Zubiri because the roads to Roncesvalles and SJPDP from Pamplona had been closed by the snow.
Nearing Zurain the trail took us up the hillside to pass through a very pretty forest of tall trees. As we walked the grey clouds finally claimed the sky for themselves and soon delicate snowflakes were falling through the canopy above. Descending back down to the river we were confronted by another creation of the guys specialising in slippery paths – a steep paved pathway which proved to be murderously hazardous and we followed the example of those before us who had forged muddy detours on each side. Better the mud than an injury. As we moved out of the shelter of the forest it was clear that the snow was getting heavier and visibility was dropping and so we accelerated our pace to get to Zurain.
Soon after, we could make out the trail sign ahead pointing towards the river, indicating we had arrived at the river crossing into Zurain. With visions of steaming cups of café con leche and a hearty breakfast we turned onto the bridge and there in front of us was Café La Parada, just as we remembered it.
Except, it was closed.
We all let out an audible groan of disbelief as we walked towards the ghostly scene of the quiet café with all its tables and chairs stacked and covered with snow. For a minute or two we stood and looked unsuccessfully for any sign of life in the village, before turning and walking onwards, trying to think of what Plan B for some food might be.
The Zurain café is the largest and best positioned on this section of trail to take advantage of Camino pilgrim business and if it was closed it seemed unlikely that anything else might be open. Perhaps we had arrived too early in the season, or maybe the locals had not anticipated that large numbers of pilgrims would start arriving at the beginning of this season, now that the Camino was open again.
The rest of the afternoon was a challenging walk. Initially we travelled on the verge of a busy main road through a grey landscape of falling snow and bad visibility, taking care to watch out for the cars passing at high speed and spraying us with water. It was miserable.
As we got closer to Pamplona the snow thankfully finished falling for the day – its charm starting to wear a little thin by this point. The sun fought its way through the clouds and the trail moved away from the road and led us on a succession of pathways that gradually evolved from a narrow track to a concrete footpath to a wide public promenade that followed the river into the outer suburbs of Pamplona.
As we neared the city we began to encounter locals taking strolls, rugged up in ‘puffer’ jackets and coats, and many walking their dogs. Judging by the amount of aromatic mud on the pathway, dogs were certainly a popular companion and for awhile we had to keep up a constant vigil as to where we were putting our feet. Eventually the yellow arrows diverted us across a bridge and away from the river and suddenly we were walking through urban residential areas.
Having had no luck finding a meal thus far, Leo began searching for food outlets of any sort using his phone – even McDonalds was looking attractive at this point. Eventually we located a café in Villava, a modern outer suburb of Pamplona where we had stayed before, and we diverted off the Camino to get some food.
Buried in a modern housing estate of concrete and brick houses, Cafetería La Era was clearly the local community gathering place. Located on the ground floor of an apartment block and overlooking a local plaza, one end of the shop’s long counter was the local bar, whilst the other was a pasteleria and bakery. The shop owner served at the bakery whilst her young teen daughter capably filled the role of barmaid, keeping the clientele under control with the occasional brisk command. In the corner three older gentlemen played chess.
For us this little slice of Spanish life was paradise. For much of the next hour we sat, sipped hot beverages, including a my long-overdue first coffee for the day, and worked our way through a succession of different sweet and savoury pastries. The warm room and food were wonderful and we lingered a long while, trying not to leave mud and water on the floor whilst watching the locals with interest.
Visiting the toilet we learned a lesson that will no doubt come in handy later. In 2019 it had been evident that the Spanish were very conscious of conserving energy. Many lights in toilets and corridors had been on sensors or timers, ensuring that electricity was only used when required.
Turning on the light in the toilets this time, it went out again very quickly, the timer switch being on a very short setting. Fortunately, I had my phone with me and was able to use its torch. A local later explained that the cost of living, and especially the price of electricity, had increased significantly during the past three years, and residents were now working hard to conserve energy. We would make sure we kept our phones with us in future.
Warm, fed and watered, we eventually stepped out again into the cool but now-sunny afternoon, re-connected with the Camino, and completed our walk into Pamplona’s Old Town. During the past day a WhatsApp group had been created by Leo and a few of our friends, and our phones began pinging as everyone began to arrive in Pamplona and arrangements were made to meet-up for a drink. We passed through the city’s impressive medieval fortifications, crossed the drawbridge into the old town and checked into our accommodation near the Cathedral.
Despite being on the Camino for only three days we had always planned to take a day off to enjoy Pamplona. On our last journey we had not been able to get accommodation and could only look with envy at the sights of the famous old city as we had quickly passed through. This time we had booked a couple of night’s accommodation in the centre of the Old Town – ground zero for Camino pilgrims.
As it turned out, the planned stop proved to be a decision that perfectly suited our mental and physical state as we entered the city. We had come to Europe needing to re-charge our batteries, and the adventures of the first few days on the Camino now left us in the mood to stop, rest and smell the roses– or pintxos – the local version of tapas.
It was Saturday and the afternoon streets of the old town were filled with festive-spirited people spilling out of bars and cafes. There were many people present with banners and T-Shirts offering a variety of slogans, suggesting there had been several rallies or public meetings earlier in the day. Now, their messages for a better World delivered for the day, they were happily engrossed socialising, drinking and laughing.
The old town was vibrant with colour, each street lined with brightly coloured old apartment buildings, illuminated by the afternoon sun, and framing narrow views of the vivid blue sky overhead. As siesta time rolled around and the streets became quiet our friends made their way to our meeting place, a bar happy to serve us drinks and pintxos whilst we waited for the town to reopen.
Danielle from Yukon had arranged to be joined by a friend of a friend – Brianna – an expat Canadian now living in Pamplona, teaching English and expecting her first child any day now. Having celebrated our arrival in Pamplona sufficiently for now, Brianna took us on a wonderful walking tour of the Old Town including it’s famous bullring, the running of the bulls statue, and the main avenue and plaza where the well-heeled residents live in lavish apartments. Brianna answered our many questions about Spain, its culture, how to pronounce various phrases and the weather. She confirmed that the snow was completely unseasonal and had also caught the locals by surprise.
Our tour finished up at a small family-run restaurant hidden up a narrow flight of stairs. There Brianna magically transformed from a mild-mannered Canadian to a fiery Spanish-wielding local as she insisted to the manager that our party be served at this early hour. She later explained that in Pamplona polite Spanish is a waste of time and usually a tell-tale that you are a foreigner, the local style is to be forceful and direct.
It is one of the challenges of being a peregrino in a country filled with wonderful food that ‘Camino time’ does not synchronise well with local everyday life. Most albergues have a 10pm evening curfew, by which time pilgrims are expected to be in bed with lights out and the building doors are locked. Conversely, most local restaurants and bars normally don’t start serving until well into the night, with evening meals generally eaten between 9pm and midnight. The result is that the choice of food available to pilgrims is often limited to Pilgrims Menu meals which are purposely served earlier in the evening but which are often not representative of local dishes or specialties.
This night, thanks to the early sitting Brianna had arranged, we enjoyed a wonderful meal of robust Basque region dishes and wine. It was such a treat to have the benefit of local knowledge to fully appreciate the things that Pamplona has to offer and we were all extremely grateful for Brianna’s company.
Leo and I were purposely staying in a hotel to avoid albergue curfews and so after our meal we said our good nights and took a stroll through Plaza del Castillo and the narrow streets as Pamplona’s night life began to come alive.
It was not hard to notice that the locals enjoyed celebrating stag and hens’ nights with a level of commitment and effort not often seen in our home country. We passed several parties moving around in fully coordinated outfits, some the result of significant creativity and effort.
At one stage we were passed by a hens group, the maid-of-honour dressed as a tour guide with speaking trumpet and leading the rest of the party each wearing carboard sections of a tour bus that created a whole when standing in line. A group of 6-foot tall chickens went in another direction, leading the groom dressed as a rooster and looking like this was not their first lap of the Old Town. They were followed by a women’s soccer (football) team in fully coordinated hot-pink players outfits that would have been at home in a Katy Perry video, with the bride dressed as the goalie in fluorescent yellow. In all cases they were clearly having wonderful nights. The sparkling remains of the night’s celebrations decorated the cobblestones the following morning.
Later, after collapsing into bed, our phones began pinging as members of our group, who had not been able to resist partying late in Pamplona’s inviting bars, now found themselves locked out of their albergues. They were messaging others in the hope that someone could let them in. It seemed that it might be a cold night for some, although judging by composition of the texts, it was questionable whether the authors were feeling much at all at present. After awhile the pings stopped and it seemed as though our friends had resolved their issues one way or another.
This morning we had a good sleep-in before enjoying another long, hot shower and an equally long breakfast in the hotel. Looking out of our bedroom window we had an early-morning view of the distant snow-capped mountains we had crossed, reminding us that had already covered some distance.
Being in a hotel rather than albergue there were no in-house laundry facilities on hand and so we took advantage of the bathtub in our room to give our clothes a good long soak. When staying in hotels we had learned to buy a small bottle of body wash in a local shop to use during our stay, half for showering, the other half for washing our clothes. This time we would be smelling of green apples for the next few days.
It seemed that we were not alone in our decision to have an early rest day in Pamplona. Several of our friends had decided to take advantage of the city’s amenities and sunny weather to rest and take stock. Learning the lesson of the previous night several grouped together to rent an air B&B apartment, conveniently located in the Plaza Mayor. After Brianna’s grand tour of Pamplona the previous afternoon, we felt content to use today to just rest and lounge.
Brianna had confirmed that, like most towns along the Camino, the Old Town was an extremely safe place. Leo, armed with his phone and credit card, set forth on his own to catch up with some of his Camino friends. During the course of the day I received regular updates, usually in the form of photos, of Leo hanging out with Emma, Tess and others in their apartments and cafes as he enjoyed bites to eat and having his hair braided.
I kept my promise to myself and visited the Pamplona Cathedral Occidens after the Sunday morning mass had finished to spend some time sitting in the quiet building. As a space it was simple and elegant, free of the distracting ornate decoration of some. I found a place in the back row to just sit and reflect silently for some time, nothing moving except the dust motes caught in the shafts of sunlight from the high-level windows. It was very calming and peaceful.
Later I strolled through the narrow streets, enjoying the 19th Century apartment buildings with their ornate ironwork and decoration as I wove my way to Café Iruña, famous as the haunt of the American writer Ernest Hemingway. In tribute to the hard-living author I decided against my standard café con leche and toasted his statue in the bar with a strong café expresso. I have yet to finish one of his books, maybe this visit will motivate me to try again.
My one other stroll for the day was a visit to a shop recommended by all in our group who had visited it. Leo and I had developed a taste for gummy bears as a completely ineffectual, but totally enjoyable trail snack. The shop not only sold gummy bears by the kilogram, but also mutant giant gummy bears – each the equivalent of about 30 standard ones. I managed to limit my enthusiasm, being mindful of the weight being added to our backpacks.
Leo and I re-joined up and ended the day with a pizza and headed to bed early. Before turning out the lights we flicked through the images sent by those of our group including Thomas, Josh and Danielle who had continued onwards on The Camino today, driven by the strong desire to keep walking or by limited time to complete their journeys. It seemed there was still snow on the ground ahead, but a good day had been had by all.
Our stop in Pamplona had been perfectly timed, and the old city has proven to be a friendly, beautiful and unique place to enjoy local food and culture with our new friends. Tomorrow we knew the nature of the trail would change and we were looking forward to moving forward again.
Accommodation: Pamplona Catedral Hotel, Pamplona Old Town
Another day in paradise
Our accommodation in Zubiri under a luminous blue morning sky
Rio Arga – our route companion for the day
A stunning early morning vista
Mother nature had been busy overnight
There was no lack of things to wonder at as we walked
Waiting for the three wise men
Even the infamous Magna processing plant almost looked pretty
Clearly on the right path
The character of the trail was constantly changing
These guys were still guarding the front yard
A well-known landmark on the day’s trail
When the air was clear the views of the valley were stunning
Skirting the growing puddles
Trail catch-ups – Annie from Amsterdam and Jeva from Lithuania – our Day 1 companions walking into Roncesvalles
The short bursts of sunlight lifted the landscape and our spirits
Ducking low branches and brambles was a feature of the day
Snow begins to fall through the forest canopy
The sound of the busy river was never far away.
Not what we were hoping for…the fabulous cafe at Zurain. Closed.
Hungry, dismal and being drenched by passing traffic – the low point of the day
The Way diverts onto the local riverside walking path as the snow finally calls it a day
The sun breaks out as we cross the last bridge into Pamplona’s outskirts
Following the yellow arrows into the outer suburbs
Fed and watered, we finish our walk into Pamplona under pollarded street trees – a signature of Spanish public spaces
Waiting for the bus
Walking through Pamplona’s extensive medieval fortifications that envelope the Old Town
Into the Old Town
Digs for a couple of nights
With Danielle – The afternoon colours in the Old Town were amazing
Camino siblings have a quiet catch-up after a day apart
With Thomas, Amy & Danielle at Ayuntamiento de Pamplona – one of the city’s most iconic buildings. The firing of a special firework from here in July signals the commencement of the festival of San Fermín, famous for its running of the bulls.
The streets were filled with music and frivolity
Brianna joins us as we sit out siesta enjoying pintxos and beer Brianna+Danielle+Josh+James+Thomas+Amy+Renata+Leo
Thank goodness for zero alcohol beer!
A rowdy tour group – Brianna offers to show us the sights of the Old Town
The running of the bulls
Touring in our very best pilgrim-wear. Café Iruña – opened in 1888 and a favourite haunt of Hemingway
Brianna leads us to a favourite local restaurant off the beaten track
Local fare for 11 please! – the Basque food was hearty and delicious
Leo & Thomas – the Hair Bear bunch
Wandering through Plaza del Castillo on our way home for the night
Sunrise view from our room – looking back at the way we had come.
Laundry day! Finding a hotel room with a bathtub was a real treat to soak the legs and do the washing. We had learnt the value of carrying some cord and pegs.
Leo with Emma & Tess – living the best life
Hen’s Night!
Pamplona Cathedral Occidens
Quiet graceful elegance
Time for a coffee at Café Iruña,
where Hemingway’s statue still holds up the bar
Mutant giant gummy bears!
Rest day update pic from Leo – kicking back with Emma, Tess and Nat in their AirB&B apartment.
Today the weather, landscape and our trail friends combined to create a simple and wonderful day on The Camino.
We awoke late, taking full advantage of our hotel’s check-out time, and had a hearty breakfast inhouse, having learnt from the mistakes of our last day on the trail, before stepping out into Pamplona’s Old Town.
The weather was cool but the sky was blue, without a cloud in sight, and the hidden morning sun was providing a warm halo glow around the tops of the tall apartment buildings lining each side of the narrow streets. After three days of walking under predominantly grey skies and dodging rain and snow, today held the promise of sunny spring weather.
Despite our late start, the streets of the Old Town were still quiet, with just a few locals passing their way through on foot and bicycle. We followed the yellow painted arrows out of the Old Town and then the scallop shell plaques set into the wide footpaths of the modern city avenues and the landscaped university precinct that led us to the edge of the city.
The trail continued onward alongside a country road passing through open fields to the small urban hamlet of Cizur Menor. It was very cool and we were rugged-up and so when we passed a café with seating in the sun it was too good an opportunity to pass up. We ordered ‘second breakfast’ of café con leche and Cola Cao, dried off a couple of chairs which were still wet from the night frost, sat down and soaked up the rays. Glorious.
As we sipped our hot drinks and watched the trickle of pilgrims walking past we suddenly noticed Kathrine from Denmark, our cheerful companion from day one. We called out, quickly drained the remainder of our drinks and joined her. For the last two days on the trail we had largely been walking by ourselves and it was really nice to share this sunny day with a friend with an equally sunny personality. We walked and updated each other about our respective travels and shared the funny and amusing things we had seen thus far.
The Way led us to the end of the last manicured residential street and we stepped off the paved footpath of the urban environment and onto a gravel pathway making its way into the distance through open fields. Once again we felt the calming affect of being back on The Way in the countryside.
Today, the character of The Way was completely different from that of the first few days. Where before the trail had been very intimate – winding its way through hilly and closely forested countryside, with only short sections visible ahead. Now, we were walking across open fields with vast expanses of open sky above, and snow capped hills and mountains visible in the far distance.
For me, having grown up in the spaces of Australia, the wide open landscape immediately lifted my spirits and I felt myself relaxing. The fields were planted with a variety of crops, creating a giant tapestry laid over the undulating landscape. Gusts of wind could be seen travelling across the countryside, rippling the crops like gentle swells moving across a green ocean.
Here and there the vivid yellow flowers of fields planted with canola contrasted with the green expanses of young cereal crops, and the bright blue sky. Some nearby hilltops were capped with medieval buildings, some intact, some in ruins, that differentiated this landscape from the croplands of our own country.
It was wonderful to be walking and talking in good company. The sunny conditions and relatively short distance planned for the day removed the need for any thoughts beyond enjoying the immediate steps in front of us.
As we travelled we could see the white gravel trail rolling out ahead of us towards a tall hill wearing a patchwork cloak of bright white snow and dark green native vegetation. It was capped with a row of tall white wind turbines which could be seen turning as the sunlight glanced off the rotating blades.
We stopped for a refreshment at the village of Zariquiegui (still haven’t worked out how to pronounce that one) where the café was operating in skeleton mode. Selling just cold drinks, capsule coffee and packaged pastries, its kitchen was closed and tables and chairs still stacked outside. Yet again a busy eatery of 2019 was closed.
After a quick stop we pushed on. The wide gravel pathway soon tilted upwards and gave way to a narrow natural trail, winding its way through the low robust vegetation and native grasses of the higher slopes. Snow still covered sections of the path, and in others it had melted leaving puddles and mud that we circumnavigated as we traversed the side of the hill getting closer and closer to the ridge of turning wind turbines.
Eventually, we crested the top of the climb at the famous Alto del Perdón – the Hill of Forgiveness. This location has a long history with the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. It is named after a 13th Century basilica dedicated to Nuestra Señora del Perdón (Our Lady of Atonement), that had stood nearby but which destroyed by Napoleon Bonaparte’s troops during the Peninsula War. It is now best known for its steel sculpture of figures representing pilgrims on The Way through history, one of the best known landmarks of the Camino Francés.
Under the clear sky and bright sunshine the views were amazing. Looking behind us it was possible to see the Pyrenees in the far distance, including the pass between two peaks where we had crossed into Spain on our first day. Looking forward to the West stretched the undulating valley we would walk in the forthcoming days.
Not surprisingly, given the nearby wind turbines, a strong cold wind blew, and we had to put our jackets back on as we lingered to enjoy the views and rest. Shortly after we arrived we were joined by our friends Natalie, Tess and Irek from Poland, co-residents of the apartment in Pamplona. A new round of photos was taken before we finally turned to commence the last challenge of the day.
The descent from Alto del Perdón is the second of the three encountered on the Camino Francés route that we remembered as requiring caution. This section of trail, about 3-4km in length, is relatively steep and comprises an unbroken field of rounded rocks and large pebbles, not unlike a dry riverbed, making it very easy to lose your footing or roll an ankle if not careful.
Facing West, the hillside was free of residual snow, and once we were below the peak and sheltered from the wind the conditions became warm and comfortable in the afternoon sun. We chatted with our enlarged group of friends, now christened ‘The Crack-on Crew’ by Natalie, as we made our way downwards cautiously.
At the base the trail flattened out and widened again we walked along a comfortable gravel road into our day’s destination village of Uterga. Tess and Kathrine decided to join us at the albergue we had chosen, whilst Natalie and Irek continued onwards.
The beer garden at the front of the albergue was very inviting and our first order of business was to order a round of cold beers and sit in the sun, our footwear removed, to allow our feet to breathe and relax. I savored the simple pleasure of not having my shoes filled with melted snow today. Meanwhile Kathrine and Leo, both with their hair already braided, embarked on platting Tess’ hair. Clearly this was going to be a thing.
When I eventually fronted up to the bar to check-in, I was distressed to discover that our pilgrims credentiales were missing! Fortunately our passports and wallets were still in my pack. After a long think I could only conclude that I had left them in our room in Pamplona, soon confirmed when I rang the hotel. It looked like a long taxi trip was ahead of me to retrieve them.
Our energetic hostess stepped in – insisting that I must not waste my time and money doing so. She quickly got on the phone and hatched a plan with the local driver for Jacotrans – one of the companies providing a backpack forwarding service for pilgrims. He would pick our credentiales up in the morning from Pamplona and leave them at the front desk of a hotel in Puente La Reina, a town we would be passing through tomorrow. The generosity and support of pilgrims by locals once again amazed us.
We settled to enjoy our stay. After the relative luxury of having our own rooms for the past few nights we were once again in a dormitory of bunks and in the thick of Camino life. Leo took the opportunity to do the rounds and introduce himself to the new faces in the room and Emma also rolled in a little later in the afternoon. We all enjoyed catching up over the pilgrim menu dinner served by the albergue.
Uterga is not a big town, with no bars or other places to socialise, and most pilgrims staying at the albergue decided to call it an early night after the sun had set.
We had had a great day. The sunny weather and sharing the trail with friends through the open countryside had been a welcome change from our previous challenging day on The Way. It had allowed us to simply enjoy the walk and relax. The generosity and support of our hostess had also made it a special day, transforming a problem and potential worry, into a solution and a gift.
It was great to be on The Camino again. We were looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.
Accommodation: Albergue Camino del Perdón, Uterga
Picasso in Pamplona
Despite our mid-morning departure the Old Town streets were quiet and still in shadow
Showing The Way – the markers showing the route through the city
following the Way through the modern spaces of Pamplona
and the landscaped campuses of the university precinct
Leaving the city limits
Time to shed our jackets and enjoy the sun
Approaching the end of Cizur Menor with Kathrine
and into the countryside
Fields of colour
The Way leaves the road and heads for the hills
The simple ingredients of a wonderful day – sunny weather +
walking with friends +
big, open landscapes.
Leaving Pamplona behind
Medieval hilltop churches and buildings were a feature of the landscape
It was still hit and miss finding open cafes
A great day to share with friends
The naughty corner
Zariquiegui – say that three times fast
an older trail marker cheers us onwards
Out of the fields and into the hills
Snow was still around on the higher slopes
and mud
Alto de Perdon
One of the Camino’s most-loved landmarks
Iron man
Still fascinated by snow
With Kathrine
A reunion Tess+Leo+Natalie+Irek
The ‘Crack-on Crew’ tackle the infamous descent from Alto del Perdon
and more. Caution was the name of the game.
The new valley featured almond orchards and crops
Uterga appears ahead
Day is done
Our digs for the night
Back into bunkland
Our hostesses, and architects of our Credentiale retrieval. A very friendly place to spend the night.
Coiffure del Camino continues – Kathrine and Leo give Tess today’s trail style.
The first thing you do after saying hello and checking in – photograph the Wi-fi (pronounced Wee-Fee) password
Pilgrim Menu for the night
One way of looking at it. Roncesvalles is often considered the start of the Camino Francés in Spain.
Today we had a wonderful and surprising day on The Way, having set out with no plans just to see where the Camino would take us.
We stepped out into a crisp day with clear blue skies, the town in shadow but the rising sun illuminating the tops of the taller buildings. It was a very cold morning, the type that follows a night with no cloud cover, but which blossoms into a wonderful day once the sun has had some time to do its magic.
Our albergue did not have any breakfast options beyond the vending machines standing in the beer garden, offering either bandages for damaged feet, or icy cold Coke. Not being what we had in mind to start the day, we headed off, knowing that the large town of Puente la Reina was only six kilometres away, and two smaller villages in-between. We would find something to eat within the next hour or so.
For the first time, we were setting out without an accommodation booking or a firm idea of where we were going to finish up this evening.
Our journey to date has been influenced by our first Camino experience in 2019. That year, it had been our intention to start each day without any firm plans, walk until we felt we felt we wanted to stop, and then stay at the nearest convenient albergue.
However, in practice, we quickly found that there were many pilgrims on the trail and that accommodation in the locations we were hoping to stay was often full. This was particularly the case on the early stages of the trail where accommodation seemed to be stretched by the number of pilgrims passing through.
This meant we could not stay at towns that we hoped to see, including Pamplona. Sometimes, it was necessary to take a taxi to another town with beds, and in doing so we also missed opportunities to get to know the people we had met on the trail. It wasn’t a disaster, but we had missed things we had looked forward to.
Later that journey we started booking accommodation if we detected things were getting busy and beds might be scarce. It was a matter of practicality. Leo was just twelve at the time and we were amongst the slowest travellers on the trail, arriving into destinations well after most others. We did not have the capacity to simply keep walking to the next town at the end of a day if there were no beds left.
The topic of booking accommodation gives rise to many passionate perspectives amongst pilgrims. For the purist tribe, booking is against the spirit of freedom they seek on the Camino. It requires pilgrims to pre-determine where they will stay and takes away opportunities that may suddenly pop-up during the day – a pretty town, remaining with new friends stopping in another town etc.
For others, a booking provides the certainty of a bed at the end of the day and allows them to focus on being in the moment and experience each step and every detail of their surroundings, without the distraction of accommodation concerns. For some of this tribe, simply making a booking the night before is enough. For the so-called ‘spreadsheet travellers’, mental comfort comes from pre-planning and booking all accommodation for the entire journey.
And then there are the hybrid travellers. Pilgrims who prefer not to book, but depart at 6am, 5am or even earlier to make sure they arrive at their destination early enough to get a bed. A sort of freedom, but with strings attached.
After 2019, Leo and I were firmly in the booking tribe. For us, avoiding unnecessary distractions and stress was why we had come to Spain.
For our 2022 Camino, we had arrived early in the season, hoping to find the trail a little quieter, and we had pre-booked our accommodation for the first few days. As a result we experienced places we had missed previously, such as Zubiri and Pamplona. We had also been able to enjoy early social gatherings that formed our friendships with other pilgrims – the big dinner gathering in Zubiri being a great example.
But today, we were going to live on the edge and go commando, Camino style.
The trail ahead had quite a few potential stop opportunities, with towns of varying sizes having albergues or hostels every four or five kilometres. However, it was unclear exactly what was available as some accommodation establishments did not appear to be open.
It looked like it was going to be a fantastic day for walking, with little risk of needing to shelter from bad weather and so we thought we would just go and have a look for ourselves.
For the first part of our day, the Way followed a watercourse along a valley of different character to yesterdays landscape. The range of hills we had crossed at Alto del Perdón provided shelter from the cold Northerly winds that had powered the ridge-top wind turbines. The open verdant green grain crops were now joined by orderly groves of almond trees and increasing numbers of trellised vineyards with surrounding taller trees protecting them.
The undulating valley floor had many gullies and ridges that reduced the visibility of the trail ahead, but the wide open sky remained above us as we walked. It was very still, the only noise being the crunch, crunch, crunch of our footsteps on the gravel pathway, the sharp sounds almost like those of ice in the very cold conditions. However, It did not take long to find a town with a warm, open bar. We enjoyed ‘first breakfasts’ of coffee and pastries in Obanos where the rising sun was illuminating the town’s pretty church and presenting it in its best light.
With something warm now in our stomachs, we were joined by Emma, our friend from Utrecht, and continued onwards, chatting and in good spirits. As is often the case, the kilometres seemed to disappear without effort as we talked, and soon we found ourselves entering the historic Camino town of Puente la Reina, The Queen’s Bridge.
On the approaches, we located the hotel where our forwarded Credentials were to be left for us to collect, and they were indeed waiting for us at Reception. Relief! We showered the manager with our thanks, his cringing smile suggesting our Spanish pronunciation still had a little way to go, before buying a couple of drinks in gratitude and following the trail into the famous medieval town.
Earlier today, I realised that misplacing our credentials had been no mere fluke or stroke of luck. While getting dressed I discovered I had also misplaced my beanie and gloves somewhere. Amazing. It was clear I possessed a rare and special gift. Forgetfulness was my superpower! (If only I could remember how I did it)
Truth be known, I was not surprised about the disappearance of the beanie. I had lost a couple of them last Camino, tending to take them off when stopping, and leaving them behind on the table. This had resulted in a series of messages being passed along the Camino telegraph that various people were hoping to return my hats.
I had accepted long ago the that losing beanies is a personal trait that I would simply have to learn to live with. Sort of like always typing a lower case ‘j’ instead of uppercase one when typing my name on a keyboard. Beyond the powers of change. Losing my gloves however, was a tour de force even by my own lofty standards.
Fortunately, as we walked along the historic main street of the old town and I was remembering what I had forgotten, an outdoor store revealed itself with perfect timing. Being someone who likes to be prepared, I had a few euros in the budget for replacing lost beanies. and I soon had replacements clipped inside my pack.
As we continued down the Casa Mayor, lined each side with tall medieval buildings, we came to the town’s cathedral. The gates in the wrought iron fence were open and so we entered, pushed open the building’s heavy dark timber doors and stepped inside.
It was cool and quiet. Unlike many Romanesque cathedrals, it was not overly dark, the interior lit by small, high-level windows. It had the appearance and aura of a place that has been continuously used, rather than preserved just for special occasions. The plastered walls were covered with spiderwebs of fine cracks and the interior had the patina of centuries of candle smoke and incense.
Finding that we were completely alone, Leo moved to the centre of the tall quiet space and began to sing.
Leo has always had a love of song. When younger he had been a soprano chorister in a cathedral choir, dedicating up to 15 hours a week to rehearsals and performances. Now, coming to terms with a deeper voice, he sings in a variety of choirs, and as a soloist. Our home is often resonating to the sound of Leo singing his heart out.
Song had also been an important part of our first Camino in 2019. During that journey Leo had befriended Raphaela from Germany. Almost the same age, and also a singer, Raphaela and Leo became well-known as the two young singing children by other pilgrims.
It had been a very special connection. So much so that, after leaving the Camino to go back to school following two weeks of walking, Raphaela and her mother Ruth returned weeks later to surprise Leo and accompany us for the last days of our journey into Santiago. The renewed sounds of their singing as we walked were a wonderful way to finish our Camino in 2019.
Our current Camino was also shaping up to be a journey filled with song. Leo was due to audition for a singing role in Mamma Mia The Musical the day after his return home from the Camino, and he intended to practice the songs as we travelled. Fortunately I am a fan of ABBA – a dark secret of the type only shared on the Camino.
Now, in the cathedral, Leo’s voice effortlessly filled the large space, its acoustics enhancing his song’s solemn tune, the last notes resonating long after he had finished. It was a beautiful and atmospheric place to experience music.
Not wanting to lose the opportunity, I asked Emma and Leo to sing a duet. Leo had discovered a kindred spirit in Emma, who is a choral singer and a choir director as well. Like Leo, she enjoys impromptu opportunities to sing with others and the two had been singing and harmonising together as we travelled.
They chose a haunting Nordic song that Emma had been teaching Leo. Each word was precisely captured by the clear acoustics of the space, Emma’s high, penetrating soprano a perfect counterpoint for Leo’s deep, earthy bass. They finished and stayed still, letting the sound dissipate to a peaceful silence. It was a very special highlight. I was lucky enough to capture the songs on my phone – having not forgotten it yet.
We walked into the heart of the beautiful town and bought ourselves lunch from a café with seats in a pretty sun-filled plaza. By now, the sun was starting to generate some real heat and as we rested we peeled off our jackets and dug our brimmed hats out from the bottom of our packs.
Fed and watered we departed town via the beautiful Pons Regine (Queens Bridge) from which the town takes its name. Believed to have been constructed in the 11th Century at the insistence of the Reina Mayor (Greater Queen) to assist pilgrims cross the Rio Arga, it is now one of the Camino’s most symbolic landmarks.
We soon found ourselves climbing out of the valley we had been following all morning, and at the top we paused in the shade to consider our plans for the rest of the day.
Emma had been struggling with her boots and her intention was for a short day on the trail. She had made a booking at an albergue in the small town of Cirauqui just a few kilometres ahead.
I remembered Cirauqui as a very pretty town and even though it would mean a shorter day’s distance than we had envisaged, it might be nice opportunity to stop there and look around. When we called to make a booking however, the albergue owner was very apologetic. The water supply had failed and now he would not be able to accept any guests. Purely by chance he asked if we knew a pilgrim named Emma as he needed to let her know that she could not stay, we promised to pass on the message.
The Camino Ninja App had proven to be very useful, giving up-to-date status information of the accommodation in each town. It was now showing that beyond the single albergue in Cirauqui, there was nothing else open for at least another 16km. It seemed that a number of albergues had not yet come out of post-pandemic hibernation and this had created an extended stretch with nowhere to stay.
For us this news was a setback, for Emma it was a big blow. The distance to the next open albergue was beyond what her feet could manage. A quick search soon found a local bus service she could take from Cirauqui to Estella, where accommodation would be assured. She had a comfortable amount of time to get to the bus stop.
We knew that some of our other friends would be staying in Estella tonight as it was a major stage destination and even though the day was well advanced, Leo and I decided that we would use the beautiful weather to walk the remaining 20km or so to get there – another four or five hours on the trail.
With an ambitious objective now set, Leo and I wished Emma a Buen Camino for the afternoon and set off.
For the rest of the day, The Way led us through a landscape of rolling hills and gullies decorated with crops, vineyards and trees, all looking vibrant under the bright sun and vivid blue sky.
We passed through Cirauqui, one of my fondest visual memories of 2019. Perched on a hilltop, the Camino takes travellers up the pretty town’s narrow medieval streets framed between tall stone houses and other buildings. One of my favourite Camino scenes is a street so steep the footpaths are flights of steps and we paused to take a few photos.
Departing Cirauqui and descending the hill, the Way takes travellers on the unearthed remains of a medieval cobblestone road and bridge. This is widely referred to as the Roman Road, although this attribution is highly contested by historians. One thing that was beyond doubt was that the roadway had been cleaned and renovated since last time. The overhanging vegetation had been removed and the uneven surfaces filled in, making it both more scenic and friendly for travellers to use. We were getting a growing sense that the Camino had received some TLC during the pandemic whilst pilgrims were away.
We also passed the Olive Gard-Zen. It is a rest stop for pilgrims with benches and hammocks created over several years in an olive grove by Yvan, a young peaceful soul. A donativo stand has a selection of fresh fruit, cold drinks and other snacks for passing pilgrims – take what you need and pay what you can.
We immediately recognised Yvan and had a quick chat. He had been away during the pandemic but had returned, looking forward to welcoming pilgrims back to The Way in the Holy Year. We made a donation, selected a cool drink and stamped our credentials before wishing him well and continuing.
We learned later that another of our friends, Tess from France, who had started at the same town as us this morning and was carrying a large backpack with a tent, decided to camp in the olive grove rather than try and walk to Estella. Apparently it was fun, but freezing cold.
Approaching the town of Lorca, we were pleasantly surprised to come across a little ray of sunshine – Kathrine. Her perpetual good humour could not conceal that she was not having a comfortable day. Starting the day in boots, her feet had become so painful she had resorted to wearing her flip-flops and was walking very gingerly. We knew that the bus service that Emma was catching to Estella also ran through Lorca and Kathrine decided that this was probably also a good solution for her. She had about 30 minutes to get to the stop so it seemed like a workable plan. We wished her luck, agreed to meet up for dinner, and continued onwards.
For the last two hours we walked through a beautiful Spring afternoon, the sun getting lower in the sky as we followed the-now wide white gravel pathway that ducked and weaved through a number of tunnels and underpasses. Finally, as the sun began sliding behind the nearby hills we found ourselves following the path alongside the river into Estella.
It had been a big day on the trail – over 32kms in total according to Señor Strava, our longest distance ever on the Camino. We felt sore but were happy and somewhat surprised that we had completed the challenging walk without too much trouble. We had also made surprisingly good time by our standards, taking just over four hours to complete the last 22 kilometres.
The discomfort in our shoes suggested we had probably given ourselves a couple of blisters on our heels, but nothing debilitating. A gentle reminder that we should have stopped and changed our sweaty socks, or at least attended to our feet for a few minutes at some point.
As we walked in we received messages that Emma and Kathrine had both connected with the bus and made it as well.
It was late in the afternoon and we began looking for accommodation as soon as we entered the town. At the first option, a hostel, we walked past a tour bus to get to the front door. The contents of the bus, comprising many pieces of branded luxury luggage, were being moved inside by the driver. The manager regretfully advised that they had been booked out by a Korean walking group and had no vacancies.
Our next stop was the large municipal albergue where we had stayed previously. We entered and listened as the hospitalero tried to bridge a language gap and explain to the group of pilgrims in front of us that here too was completo – full. We didn’t need to be told twice and stepped outside where it was quickly getting cool now that the sun was hidden.
Sensing it was a busy night in town, we decided to skip the lower cost albergue options which were probably completely full by now and try a hostel. We soon had success – the last two beds. It was a funky place just a couple of minutes away with a wonderful host and dormitories featuring sleeping cubicles instead of bunks. We had not experienced these before, but they did look like they would give more privacy and contain sleeping noises a little more as well. We were looking forward to giving them a try.
As we each unpacked, Leo discovered that he did not have his sleeping bag with him – it was not in his backpack, or mine. Our immediate panic quickly subsided – it was the Camino, we would work it out. I lent him mine knowing the room would probably be heated during the night and that I could use the silk sleeping bag liner I was also carrying. I was filled with a sense of warm parental pride – his ability to lose things was taking after his Dad’s.
We quickly telephoned our last albergue, on the assumption the sleeping bag had not been packed in the morning, but this turned out to not be the case, it was not there.
Lost for other ideas in the short term, we showered in the fabulous bathrooms and met up with Kathrine in the town’s main plaza for dinner. We enjoyed a fun-filled meal, selecting dishes from the standard a la carte menu rather than a pilgrim meal, and exchanged details of our respective days’ adventures. The night was quickly becoming very cold under the clear sky and eventually we had to call dinner to a close and seek the warmth of our accommodation. Making our way back to our hostel through the pretty town, we briefly caught up with a few other friends enjoying a nightcap before hitting our beds for the night.
Our day without plans had been a good day. We had recovered our credentials through the kindness of the locals, and the weather had been beautiful. Leo was even showing some hints of sunburn from the late afternoon sun. We had passed several pretty and memorable landmarks, I had been blessed to witness some beautiful singing and had even discovered a latent superpower. We had ended the day in a pretty town, filled with friends, and staying in nice hostel with very friendly hosts.
We had again been a little caught out by facilities on The Way not being open – possibly being closed now permanently or not yet ready to re-open for the season. The potential stress this might have caused was offset by the fact that we now knew we could walk a good distance if necessity called. It was something that might need a little consideration when setting out each day.
Life on The Way was good. As we fell asleep in our cubicles we remembered that tomorrow morning we would be visiting one of Leo’s favourite Camino destinations.
Accommodation: Albergue Ágora Hostel, Estella
Nothing but the icy crunch, crunch of our feet
Obanos’ church illuminated by the morning sun
Our credentials – safely recovered
Iglesia de Santiago cathedral at Puente la Reina
– perfect for a solo hymn
and a memorable duet with Emma
Leo rediscovers his love of boiled eggs and salt as a trail food
Breaking out the sun hats in Puente la Reina after second breakfasts
Walking through the beautiful old town
and onto its famous bridge
Pons Regine ‘Queens Bridge’, built by a Queen for pilgrims to cross the Rio Arga – one of the big obstacles on the route in the Middle Ages.
Kissed by the sun
Walking, laughing and singing with Emma
The one big climb for the day – leaving the morning’s valley
On the way on The Way – setting out for Estella late in the day
A stunning day for walking
We were still getting used to seeing contrails in the sky again after two years of near-empty skies in our country.
Approaching Cirauqui
where the streets have flowers,
and steps! One of my favourite Camino visual memories
“What have the Romans ever done for us?” – thoughts of Monty Python as we travel the ‘Roman Road’ – now looking resplendent after some TLC
a complementary Roman nose
puente romano – the remains of the ‘Roman Bridge’ – previously infamous for injuries – now far more pilgrim friendly
puente medieval – a later era medieval bridge further down the trail
Another section of the ‘Roman Road’
Home to the Olive Gard-Zen – an oasis under construction for several years in the adjacent olive grove
Only on The Camino
Surprises around every bend – a modern Aqueduct creates a striking sculpture
The pathway led us through several tunnels and underpasses
Approaching Lorca
Our accommodation in Lorca from 2019 – still in hibernation
Destination Estella – nestling in the shadow of the distant hill ahead
Another tunnel
Hard to choose which photo – went with both
The last underpass before Estella
The first red poppy of our journey
Getting close
Estella at last – quickly getting cold after the sun had gone
Home for the night
A very groovy and welcoming place
Our sleeping cubicles
The day according to Señor Strava
All the hill top towns made it a lumpy kind of day
Leo shows The Way 