It was ok, got into cold wet weather in Biarritz: the ride was through very vibrant countryside and rivers. The cab driver said it would be sunny tomorrow. When we got to the pilgrims office they said it would be snowing and cold, and our hospitaller at Albergue said it would be snowing with fog and nothing to see from the mountain top; and strongly advised taking the lower route. Which we will as we are not suckers for more punishment than necessary.

When we checked in, the hospitaller gave us the ground rules:

1. Humility, lose your f**cking pride (his words)
2. Benevolence
3. Carpe Diem

He handed us our poles and Swiss Army knife that Jo had posted from the UK two weeks ago.

Took the low road due to snow and limited visibility on the napoleon route. Even on the Valcaros road the valley and mountain pass was completely socked in for most of the walk and it rained or rain and snowed for 90% of the day. However we could see lots of chamois goats in the upper reaches, families of goats were taking their kids through mountaineering boot camp, zig zagging down the crags. The scenery, when we saw it, was gorgeous. There were friendly pigs and frisky horses, kites and mice. Very luscious hills and mountains.

We saw very few other peregrinos on the way, although we met two halfway up a murderous climb who were speechless from the effort, their only words were, “I am dead”, not the traditional greeting. We offered a small handful of chocolate covered coffee beans.

However we got to roncesvalles in good spirits, and so thankful that Jo reserved beds. 244 places there, and it was sold out and turning away those who hadn’t book to the rather expensive hotels on offer.

Dinner was in two sittings, in tables of 10: we were with four Taiwanese, a German, an Irish lady and someone from Hawaii; it was very jolly. Pilgrims meal of whole sea bream and chips, with potage and bread to start, and a big communal bowl of pasta with choriza and about three bottles of red wine. We then went to mass. It’s a right zoo with laundry hanging from every possible vantage point; and a big room filled with walking boots in muddy row after row.

In a cubicle with four beds, two Koreans, who I had a short conversation through voice Google. Feeling ok, one blister, but it should be fine. I hope.

Roncesvalles was a production line for processing pilgrims; we had barely time to stumble into the massive courtyard, wash our clothes by hand in the basement and run off to dinner; because it was so damp and cold in the laundry room, Jo strung up a wash line across the top bunk. This meant she had to stretch it up a foot so that I could crawl into bed. Ok. Fast forward 4 hours to 1.30am when I had to use the necessary, and could not get down the ladder due to the clothesline, I slipped the last four rungs and landed hard on my tender blister covered toes and yelped; simultaneously snapping the stupid line, flinging our socks and underwear, etc, everywhere. Fortunately the other 80 pilgrims either had earplugs in or were too tired to care. I gathered as much of our clothes in the dark as I could off the floor and just prayed that the Koreans in the next bunk didn’t wake up with one of our socks draped across their pillow (or worse, they may have thought they had missed a cultural nuance in their guidebook). In the morning it looked like we weren’t missing anything, and the clothes were all dry. So no harm done.

Yesterday we walked from Roncesvalles down and then up and then down some steep hills in the pouring rain. Had a communal breakfast to start with a bunch of Irish and a couple of Americans. It was zero degrees and didn’t get much warmer so spent the day in two pairs of leggings and full rain gear. It was the Camino Train all day and we were leap frogging the same 50 pilgrims; everyone was heading to the next stage of Zubiri at 22km. The last kilometre was down a treacherous Death Valley with razor sharp ridges, loose scrag, vertical drops where one had to hold onto branches to find the next step, with some slippery mud thrown in for good measure. All single file and a real bottle neck of pilgrims holding onto each other and searching for vantage points for their poles, to get down safely.

Jo, of course, was bouncing just as lithely down as she had been hopping up the inclines, sure footed as a gazelle. Only pride (broke the first rule already) kept me from completing the rough parts on all fours. Jo waited every half kilometre for me to catch up.

We had seen emergency vehicles and a truck towing an all terrain motorbike with a stretcher tied to the side passing us the day before; and today we heard that a priest who had completed the pilgrimage to Santiago and was on the route back, had stopped at a shelter on the route Napoleon, on a section that all the guidebooks had warned not to take due to treacherous path conditions. He had been there for two days unable to go further due to hypothermia. Fortunately some pilgrims also decided to go down that particular diversion for the thrill of it (?!), and found him. They phoned emergency services and we are all hoping the poor guy makes it.

I barely managed to get into Zubiri, and Jo convinced me to carry on for another 5 plus km to Lorosoana to put us closer to Pamplona the next day. On the way we saw a guy walking up and down the same stretch of road. When we finally caught up to him he explained he had put his phone on a selfie stick by the verge to film himself walking down the road; but then couldn’t find it in all the tall grass. We pointed it out to him. We have met most nationalities so I have had a chance to practice my French, Italian, a touch of German. Jojo was saying that it would be nice to meet a Swede as that is her second language.

Ended up at a nice refuge, very sore hips and 5 blisters. 27.5 km.

It was clear and beautiful today, but cold and the frost stayed on the grass and hedges until 11am. We passed the odd bit of strip mining and cement industry fortifications, but most of it was beautiful flowers and green fields. It was only 16 km but by the time we got to the magdalena bridge (12th century)I could not take another step with my shoes on. I put on my sandals, and stumbled up the incline through the Portal de Francia, where historically, as now, the city welcomed the pilgrims from France. As it was only noon, we fortunately managed to get the last two beds at Plaza Catedral. We shared a little cubicle with, you guessed it, a Swede so Jo was very happy to have a chance to speak in Swedish for the first time in 20 years.

After I wrapped up my toes and changed, we walked around the beautiful town of Pamplona, first going to the cafe Iruna where Hemingway wrote some of his ‘the Sun also Rises, and did the Hemingway walk, stopping at three pinxos bars (basque tapas), having some truly sublime snacks.

In the evening we attended the Rosario at the catedral de Santa Maria, which was uplifting and ended with the congregation slowly circling the church singing Gloria.

In the middle of the night I had to visit the necessary and was mindful of not making too much noise quietly slipping to the bathroom. Unfortunately as soon as you open the door a really bright light goes on in the hallway and illuminates the dormitory, so I was quick to go through and close the door to avoid waking the sleeping pilgrims. But the door was stuck and I was frantically tugging at it to close it behind me. An anxious few moments ensued until I realised that it was actually another pilgrim trying to open it. Tug of war ended with me abjectly apologising in sign language.

Pamplona to Puenta la Riene (queen’s Bridge)

Brutal climb up to the Alto del Perdon (altitude of 750 metres) very rough gravel path in single file. Had a ‘Camino moment’ which is where I was aware of someone trying to pass me on the left but there was no space to let them pass for several meters. Finally I said Lo Siento, and turned to let him pass, but there was no one there. Many pilgrims have experienced this same phenomenon.

Jojo has her own pace, especially on the ascents and descents, and waits for me at the level bits. It gives her time to take pictures etc. Mind you at the speed I’m going she could easily have whipped out an easel and painted the panorama and it would have been dry in the time it takes me to catch up.

The alto had gorgeous views but very windy, which would explain the dozens of wind turbines all along the ridge. There were lots of tourists as well.

We made our way precariously down the steep descent for a kilometre or so and then found a lovely patch to have our lunch.

We met up with the lady from Poland we had shared a ride from Biarritz, as well as other pilgrims we have been getting to know.

By the time we got to Puenta I was almost at a standstill, the albergues were all full and we walked the length of the town looking for a place to stay. Finally found one 400 metres uphill (of course) outside city limits. I was ashen, and my blisters are in rough shape, but it was a gorgeous day and I am happy that God has given me these blisters so that I walk slowly and carefully, and avoid any major problems with knees, ankles, etc.

Woke at quarter to six and we were out when it was barely light to see by. Very cold and had all layers on. Another gorgeous day and after four hours we were down to T-shirts and sun hats. It was the Camino train again, apparently this year everyone has decided to do the Camino in April!!! We met a couple from New Zealand who said it took 42 hours to get to Spain, their jet lag is working in their favour so they are up at 4am and raring to go.

The fields are lush with some type of grain with a silver tip. When the wind swooshes across the slopes, it’s like watching wisps of clouds chasing each other around the countryside.

There are sections of old Roman roads and bridges, very old churches and monuments, and the people take great pride in their history and villages, lovely gardens and homes.

We have arrived in Estella, it took some time to find our albergue as our maps are in Spanish and all the signs are in Basque.

The parish refuge is donativo (ie you pay what you can afford), the hospitaller is a kindly old man with a tracheostomy who only speaks Spanish. He was leading us to a cramped dormitory with bunk beds cheek by jowl, with only top bunks left; but when he saw how I was holding onto the walls to stumble after him, he shook his head and took us back through to the other side of the building, the enfermio, where I could have a bottom bunk and extra thick blankets. It’s spacious and only one other person was there. Jo is happy to be on the top bunk but there’s plenty of room. She’s out buying sustenance, baguette, cheese, yogurt, oranges, tomatoes, trail mix, etc. we are in tears as we are almost out of chocolate covered espresso beans. It’s been the only thing keeping us going at times.

There hasn’t been much long conversation with other pilgrims these few days as everyone is just concentrating on getting through these first few days.

It was a cold start again as we left at 7.30am. We took the traditional route up to Monjardin, elevation 720 meters, which was slightly lower than Alto del Perdon two days previously. The route starts with the pilgrims free wine fountain, which had a queue as you can expect.

The incline was gentle and passed through pine forests and the distant sound of cuckoos. It was a lovely day for walking, brilliant blue skies and enough of a breeze to keep it cool enough for walking in brilliant sunshine when we got out of the forest.

There were rumours of fully booked albergues at the traditional end of stage at Los Arcos, so we paced a quartet of Canadians from Calgary to Sansol: Hoping that if we got off the traditional stage we would have better choice of accommodation. We were wrong.

Fortunately, there were a couple of beds at an overpriced place at the only one not full or closed.

The dorm was filled with French, Austrians, Koreans, Germans, etc. the only two bunks left were on the top and when they saw me hobble in, a sweet young Adonis offered me his bottom bunk which was below Jo’s. I had been so spoiled with kindness so far, I declined and took the top bunk. My blisters are next level, but the pain is manageable with meds and disinfectant. However, I’m afraid that several of my toenails are not long for this world and I’ll just have to deal with that at a later date.

A note on dorms. People snore, and that includes me. One of the joys of this trip is finally finding my tribe; I don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed about this for the first time in my life.

However, in the middle of the night I noticed that the bunk below next to me was empty. I found out next morning that the kind young man previously mentioned couldn’t sleep for the noise and went to the living room to sleep. Aack! Embarrassment quickly returned; but Jo assured me that half of the sleepers were accompanying me.

We were up and out by 7.30am, but the previous day’s efforts had caught up with me. It was very cold and windy with occasional rain. We stopped to view a 12th century chapel, octagonal shaped in the style of the Knights Templar in Torres del Rio. There was another 300 meter climb before a series of steep ravines which the local name translates as Mule Killer, due to the difficulty of the descent. We saw a half dozen large eagles either enjoying the thermal uplifts or waiting for a hapless pilgrims to slip, one can never tell.

I used the poles, but in reference to Tiger Williams, an ‘Enforcer’ who used to play for the Canucks, “It’ll put the hurt on ya”.

It was 12 km before we realised there wasn’t going to be a cafe open, so we finally found a spot out of the gale and ate some bread and cheese, paracetamol and pots of yogurt.

In Logrono now; fortunately got a couple of bunks in the parochial albergue, which is the worst we’ve been in. Filthy and cold, so we cheered ourselves walking about town. We had a selection of tapas, Jo had a couple of glasses of Rioja and I had a Sangria slushy. We then got some snacks and ice cream and visited the Museum of the Rioja. Restaurants for dinner don’t open until 8, and we were going to find a proper meal; but even Jo can’t move any more.

She’s had enough of the dorm life for this week and has booked a private room for tomorrow night; as long as we can do 28.9km by 4pm check in.