The Happy Pilgrim

On Friday 29 May I left Burgos alone and, approached the Meseta with an open mind and heart. To be quite honest I haven’t been over fussing about anything much except the need to have clean smelling (dry) clothes! Many people “skip over” The Mesta as they fear it will be too lonely, or boring but I knew it would be beautiful as it actually offers wide open spaces and today and yesterday, clear blue (cloudless) skies. I was mindful of Suzanne’s parting advice on watching those signs out of Burgos, and was not interested in a repeat of the Lost-in-Logrono episode!  I found my way to the back of the Catedral de Santa Maria XIII, the second largest of Spain’s many amazing cathedrals. I knew I was supposed to go left because (that would be west and place the sun on my back)  but I went right to find a marker and reference point.

Sure enough, a few moments later  some other Pilgrims came along and helped me find my bearings. I walked in front of them and kept my eyes peeled for about 2kms and once, when I got a bit distracted I turned around they once again pointed me the right  direction.At some point they caught up with me (probably at a traffic light) and asked me where I was from. I told them Austraia and they told me they were from Madrid.  We chatted and I asked if they minded if we walked together for a while. They were brisk walkers (not too slow and not too fast). It wasn’t until later in the day (about 6-7kms before the end) that they suggested we slow down. I then realised they were keeping pace with me and I had thought I was keeping pace with them! I will be more mindful when I walk with someone again.

There is a wonderful story about Carmen and Raphael that truly warms the heart. Carmen was a retired school teacher and Raphael, a retired Doctor. Carmen spoke “survival English” which was considerably better than my “survival Spanish”! We were successful at some conversations and less than successful in others, which meant we chose our conversations mindfully. Amazingly I was able to glean that they went on the Camino once a year and this year they were walking Sunday-Sunday ending in Castrojeriz and stopping over in Hornillos (which was the same schedule I was following) except I went to a quaint B&B in Isar 3kms out of Hornillos.  Carmen enjoyed walking (and I have no idea how old they were but I guessed around early 60s but with retirement age different all around the world it is hard to konw). Their walking pace was strong and healthy. Carmen had experienced a fall and injured her shoulder so they were porting their bags and staying in albergues. Raphael carried a walking pole and had a blister but they appeared to be more than capabile of managing the Camino. I wanted to say to Raphael that if more people walked he would have less patients but it was too difficult and would have got lost in translation. I figured he knew this already.

We seemed to being enjoying the wide open spaces, the rolling hills and the big blue sky. Carmel loved the poppies (same as I do) and showed me a photo of herself with some of the Spring flowers in in her sun hat taken recently on thier week long journey. Every now and then we would stop for a photo and they would take one of me (and me one of them) and then Carmen wanted Raphael to take a picture of both of us. I asked if we could get one of the three of us and smiled broadly to discover that “selfie” is the same in Spanish! We walked with a French man for a short time (Pasquale) and he and Carmen sang some lovely songs together and I found myself warmed not by the sun but by the magic of the Camino. There were songs she sang that I sang along in English (or just hummed if I couldn’t remember the words). I wasn’t 100% sure (because of the language) but Carmen taught little children in junior school and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she taught singing. She was involved in a community choir (like Nuala in Ireland) and went to many concerts but was also involved in communtiy theatre including a local verion of Aida.

When Carmen asked me if I sang much I was embarrassed that I do not (singing brings such joy). But both Carmen and Raphael were very impressed when I played them some of my favourite tracks in my iPod play list “songs that remind me of Spain”. They laughed at the Ricky Martin song Cup of Life (La Copa de la Vida) – Music of the World Cup and sang along to the whole song Guantanemera.  They were impressed and pleasantly surprised that I even had Placido Domingo’s version of Nessun dorma. I welcomed Carmen’s singing along and the joy of sharing some of these beautiful songs with her. It reminded me of a conversation I had with Nuala a few days before when we walked together, Nuala is involved in a Community Choir and they sing songs together from all around the world. It's such a leveler and a way to bring equality and harmony.

People passed us and we passed others but the wide open spaces were very suitable for Carmen and Raphael to sing. We met an Italian who walked past us briskly and declared his nationality “Italiano” and zoomed on, breaking into a run. If my walking companions spoke English I might have said “he’s in a hurry, perhaps he is catching a bus” but I knew the humour might not work so I smiled and looked at Carmen and she smiled back. We did a bit of sign language and then both agreed he’s in too much of a hurry to enjoy the beautiful landscape.  There are many people who have been rushing on the Camino and I have a feeling that The Meseta sorts them out.

We stopped at Tarjados (which is half way between Burgos and Hornillos del Camino) and while I went to “il bano” they kindly ordered a coffee. An Australian I sat next to on the bus between Bayonne and St Jean Pied de Port happened to be sitting at the table and recognised me and said hello. She looked very tired and was powering on, aiming for 30kms that day. She wanted to get to Santiago de Compostella (SdC) by a set date and had been walking with a great bunch of Americans (not on a set time frame) and was trying to make up lost time. It was nice to speak to another Aussie but it wasn’t meant to be that we would walk together that day. Perhaps we will catch up another day. Raphael took a phone call from home, his 95 year old mother had taken ill and they were trying to find access to the internet to find out more. It may have meant they might have to return home so I wished them well and went on for an hour or so by myself. I stopped to help a Pilgrim take some photos of herself only to find Carmen and Raphael again (big smiles) the mother was okay and they were able to continue. They invited me to continue walking together and they both sang their favourite songs. It was really beautiful.

I didn’t explain earlier but The Mesta took me by surprise (I actually thought it was later on in my journey) this is one of the joys of not reading too far ahead in the Brierley Guide book! One minute I am rearranging some of my days to make them a bit longer so I can extend my rest days in Leon and Santiago de Compostella and the next thing I realise it's here already! I had not time to be concerned and this approach worked well for me. Later in the day I finally pulled out my big camera from my back pack and took some photos of the big wide open spaces my eyes had been soaking the scenery up like a sponge and it was time to capture it. The iPhone or the Canon camera does the experience no real justice but I took photos because it’s fun to do so. I also took the opportunity to take a few photos of Carmen and Raphael. At Hornillos del Camino I said farewell to to my friends from Madrid, exchanged emails and promised to send them some photos. They knew I was going all the way to Finnisterre and wished me well and said they hoped to see me again.

Day two was even more beautiful than day one (and I am going to post this now and reflect back in Leon). I found myself alone but warmed by the sun on my back and seeing Pilgrims in front and behind me. The scenery was spectacular (not sparse at all) and with the wind dying down the heat of the plains was lovely (as I expected Spain to be at this time of the year). It really is sensible to get up early and walk in the cooler part of the day. Arriving around 1:30-2:30pm before it gets too hot. Rest up, shower and wash clothes, catch a nap even  and then explore the village. Working up a great appetite and then having dinner and “vino tinto” (red wine).

Probably starting a bit later than my friends from Madrid I ran into them again at the half-way point (10kms) at Hontanas. Carmen was helping another Pilgrim to take a photo before heading out as I had arrived. We embraced and said hello (she said she had been keeping an eye out for me) I showed her some of my photos and promised I would email her the rest of them. I sat with Christine from the US and told her my story of walking with the couple yesterday. She knew them because they were at the same albergue together the night before and there was lots of singing. No surprises there.

I am posting this tonight from my dinner table in a busy, noisy resturant in Castrojeriz. The Pilgrims have now gone home and the locals are out to eat (phase two of dinner time in Spain). Many Pilgrims will say that their menus are average (some are okay) and some are absolutely revolting. Tonight is no exception,  I had spaghetti and could have kicked myself (only I stubbed my pinkie on my bag already). It looked like it could have come straight out of a can. I tasted it, played with it, searched for meat and dipped some bread in it and then politely left it. Then there was beef stew next, which was two pieces of meat, and chips with some sauce. I ate that because I was hungry and then (because I still have a cough), I got icecream again. Luckily I went to the supermarket before dinner and purchased 9 apricots and ate 3 on the way back to the hotel. I opened up some nuts (for tomorrow) and ate a few of those and now I am up to my second glass of wine (or was that third)? As soon as I post this with a few photos I will be off to bed. Tomorrow it’s Castojeriz to Fromista (25kms) and the weather is a top of 27 and a low of 11 overnight. I will leave a bit later than planned as breakfast isn’t until 8:00am. I can’t possibly head off without breakfast given lunch and dinner are so late. There is a strenuous climb out of town (apparently). Which means I will probably need another little siesta in the afternoon when I have done my 25kms!










I ran into Karin and her sister Lucia walking in to town this afternoon and walked with Karin for a while. It was lovely to see her again (both of the ladies are enjoying the Mesteta just like I am). We agreed that the wide open spaces allow us more time to focus on the detail like the birds singing or the wind energy turbines on the horizon or a car on a distant road, or the flowers in the fields or especially yesterday the wheat moving in the breeze like and ocean. There is so much beauty here it’s amazing. “You wouldn’t be dead for quids”! I can certainly get used to Spain.

Until next time – The Happy Pilgrim

The Camino has a way of providing lessons,  and while I am not exactly sure “navigating” was one I really needed between Logrono and Najera (walking in Friday 22 - out Saturday 23 May), it was the lesson that presented itself to me!  You know the feeling when something goes wrong at the start and it just continues on? Well, that was my experience. “Lost in Logrono”,  provided many laugh-out-loud moments which were just too quirky to keep to myself.

Leaving Los Arcos was fine and I walked by myself for part of the day. I stopped in at the free wine fountain in Irache. It was too early for me to have a red wine but I got my photo taken (like a tourist does) and kept moving forward. I had a brief chat to a man in his 70s from Germany and was super-vigilant about keeping my eyes peeled for the sign posts. I didn’t have Charlotte to keep me focussed and needed to focus myself.  Sometime in the early afternoon I ran into Naula and we started to walk together. It had been a quiet morning and I was grateful for the company. For a woman of 57 Nuala has a cracking pace and is a fabulous conversationalist.

Towards the end of our journey (nearing the city) we stopped at a little house and purchased some souvenirs from an old lady with four dogs (all on chains sadly but they were friendly). About 20 minutes earlier we had walked with Lars a short way and chatted, Lars (from Denmark) was at Orrisson the same time as I was.  Lars stopped for a  bit more of a chat and asked to have a photo of me to show his wife because I look like a friend of hers.. He’s 67 and enjoys posting photos of his journey on Facebook and I figured no harm and I would get one of us too. My vanity kicked in and I asked him how old was his wife’s friend, but he didn’t hear me or chose, politely not to say…. He didn’t do selfies (but I talked him round).

We all sat on our benches which were placed strategically for Pilgrims on either side of the little road in the shade and had a short break. We had spent some money at the roadside stall and figured it was a good place as any. Lars reviewed Nuala’s photos taken on his camera in the shade of the tree and laughed at how she had pressed multiple times and he had only wanted one photo of us (not 20!). We laughed and walked in to town and went our separate ways. Lars wanted food before he found a hotel, it had been a very long day and he wasn’t interested in an albergue!   I wanted to get into a bath and have some rest before exploring. Nuala’s hotel was right there in front of us as we crossed the bridge and not very far from the square. In my humble opinion, this is essential criteria for Pilgrim accommodation.

I took a long time to find my hotel (I should have picked up a better map) but I was too busy looking around that I went straight past the Tourist Information. If I hadn’t wandered into the old quarter I may have been able to work out the city better right from the start. About 40 minutes later I stumbled in (saw my luggage) and was relieved. There were two Pilgrims who obviously found the place better than me sitting there waiting for their luggage which unfortunately had been misplaced. Then two more Pilgrims walked in (a couple from Ireland) who had been at the same place as me in Los Arcos the day before.  They had also had  a lot of trouble finding the place which didn’t make me feel so silly.  We did have maps but it’s hard to find street names and the map provided didn’t have the town Cathedral as a reference point so I was disorientated. Also many maps don’t include those tiny little streets. So when something looks like three streets over you don’t always count those lane ways (apparently). My experience so far in Spain is that you meet the nicest people when you are lost and you’re not lost for long.

I found my way to the square easily that evening and after a lovely long warm bath met up with Suzzanne, Helen, Nuala and sisters Karin and Lucia. We had a Pilgrims menu served by a very cheeky man from Romania. He was entertaining and worked very hard to please us with wifi passwords, getting our menu right and bringing us endless bottles of red wine! Quite a treat really.  Helen left us earlier as she had a curfew on at her albergue and when all the Pilgrims left then local crowd rolled and started their late eating schedule. We were tired and headed out a bit later than usual around 11:00PM. I had found my navigation system and pointed out the direction of Nuala’s hotel and offered to walk Suzanne  home. We got a bit lost and confused but finally found Suzanne’s place but then I over shot my block and had to pop into a bar for more directions. I wasn’t far off but my compass was out and I was starting to get annoyed with Logrono! Time for a good sleep it had been a long day with all those extra kilometres.

After a delicious breakfast (including much-missed muesli) I wasted a lot of time getting out of town and despite the warning from the BrierIey guide I was “ill prepared?.  I left my clip off my mobile phone in the dinning room (only got to the lobby) so I went back for that. Then I discovered that the bottom half of my new Leki pole had dropped off (so I went back to my room to double check that), no luck there. I wondered through the city square and tried to pick up signs and Pilgrims but both were few and far between. I went past a bin and “unburdened” myself of my dysfunctional walking pole and decided that if I were to get another one I wouldn’t spend any more than 10Euros because I have so much bad luck with them so far. I only use them for the steep down hill descents  in slippery-muddy conditions. Mostly the stick is hanging off my back pack.

I got our my map and my maps.me app and proceeded out of the city (slowly). It was bike riding Pilgrims that gave me reassurance for the first part of the day, they zoomed by and called out “Beun Camino” which made me very happy.  I was heading out in the right direction but couldn’t see any Pilgrims. When I did see one it was for a short time and then I couldn’t catch them up. I must have been in a disreputable part of town but didn’t notice until a saw two cars (one red and one blue) parked “on” the corner as a crossed a street. They weren’t double parked they had no one in them but the were on that curved part. It made me smile and I really wanted to take a photo but the girl hanging out of the bar with two blokes beside her made me uneasy so I moved on.

About 700metres down the road two Spanish business men in a flash sports car stopped me and asked me for directions. The irony of that one hasn’t left me either. I offered them my map but they kindly declined (it wasn’t really helping me so someone may as well get some use from it!). I made it to the edge of town and saw the businessmen at a factory or distillery site so they had found their destination only 800metres down the road. By this time I had already walked about  3-4kms and was feeling anxious that I hadn’t seen a walking or riding Pilgrim for quite some time. I  saw a sign post to  Najera (La Rioja), it was one of those big freeway signs but no Camino signs. I found a nice man who was going for his morning walk in a park and asked him for directions. I had over-shot by one road which meant going back around a curved parkland in front of many high rise units. There are lots of those here in Spain. I needed to navigate  to get back under a freeway and cross the road. It was elevated and I could see Pilgrims there in the distance (boy was I happy!).

I had lost quite a bit of time and didn’t really reach the outskirts of town until around 10:00AM. There were less Pilgrims (due to the time of day) and the signs we less frequent and quite different to the ones I was used to since St Jean Pied de Port. I stumbled across Marcellino Lombato “El Peregino Pasante” he was stamping Pilgrim Passports in the parklands and this is where I found sufficient Pilgrims to stop worrying.  The first ones (again) were bike riders who probably don’t need to set off so early! I walked on and found my walking rhythm for the day ahead.

I found a bar in a small town and though I would grab something to eat and use the toilet. Bars in Spain aren't anything like the bars in Australia they serve food and often have children in them (even late at night). Sitting in the chairs outside were the two sisters from Holland (Karin and Lucia) I waved to them and headed inside to use the bathroom and order something to eat. I ran into Nuala who had just got there herself and she kindly invited me to get a bite to eat with her.. We rested and chatted a while and Nuala and I walked most of the way into town together. She stopped off in the park and I kept going, mindful that it’s nice to be with people but you don’t need to be with people all the time.

My day ended with a few more “lost” moments. The instructions were simple enough just over the bridge, stay on The Camino, it’s on your left. I asked a local waitress who didn’t have a clue, then a local well dressed lady (in her 70s), probably on her way to church, who sent me back across the bridge in the opposite direction. I knew this wasn’t right but I was too polite to ignore her. Then I met the hotel owner who was coincidentally in another bar across the bridge  who said “you can’t miss it” its 20metres from the bridge. By the time I tried again I was tired and decided to go into a shop. I asked a kind man in a hardware store. He walked out of his shop (left the door open) and walked with me around the corner (about 10 doors away) right to the front of the hotel. I thanked him warmly and shook his hand. He was my Camino blessing for the day.

Ran into Suzanne the next morning as I came out of my hotel. I walked a cracking pace with her to Santo Domingo de la Calzada. St Domingo was dedicated to helping Pilgrims. There is a quirky legend about keeping his legend alive with a rooster and a hen in the cathedral coop. Those interesed can google it. When I get home I may post a link but no time to be a historian.

The curse of the lost Pilgrim had lifted and the breeze felt nice on my smiling face.

It has been a week since I set out from St Jean Pied de Port and as I sit down in a local bar by a warm sunny window in Los Arcos I reflect back on what an adventure it has been so far. I have met some amazing people and seen some spectacular landscapes and breathtaking architecture. I have not been fortunate to travel overseas to Europe (until now) and have been a sponge to the beauty of the Spanish landscape. Those rolling hills, the wheat that moves (like waves) in the wind, the quaint villages and the ornate buildings brings the joy of walking to a whole new level for me.

I have found myself tuned in to so much more. The door in a village or even a stained glass window that has been nurtured for centuries really has been quite moving. To be fortunate enough (fit and healthy) and to have the time to walk through this countryside is wonderful, and it’s only week one. I am feeling well, I have a few aches and pains, thankfully my legs getting stronger every day. I feel the rhythm of the track and am getting used to the tired legs as I approach the final 4-5 kms into the final destination village or  town. I have a bit of structure to my day and even if I am a bit weary have taught myself not to fall asleep in the afternoon (otherwise I won’t sleep until quite late).

I think back over the previous days and fondly recall our Pilgrims de-brief in Zubiri. Over a pretty ordinary Pilgrims dinner we all shared our thoughts on the day we crossed the Pyrenees. Not many people can say they did that by foot, and as Pilgrims starting from SJPDP we have joined a growing group with a shared experience. We spoke about  the views, the weather and of course  the humour of a hut in the middle of nowhere. It was a surprise because we were told there was nothing between Orrisson and Roncesvaux.  It was situated almost at the top and provided a cup of tea or coffee and shelter from the weather.

You could go inside or stay outside and still get some type of shelter from the weather.  Suzanne went in,  and others (like Charlotte and I) stayed out side. After a few wines at dinner we moved downstairs to the bar (where we really should have had tapas instead of the Pilgrims menu) .  We all agreed The Hut could be a parallel  universe. Helen decided to leave return to the albergue. She knew what was going to happen, we were given a nice shot of “some local spirit”  to warm ours.  It was slightly reminiscent of Benadryl,  I sipped mine and went straight on to water after that! The next hour was hilarious! It’s probably a good thing the ladies needed to get back to their albergue as there was a curfew and that’s all I need to say about that!  My sides were aching in laughter.

By that stage of the evening we decided make a good script for a TV series (possibly screened on the BBC). We laughed loudly at the fact Charlotte and I didn’t go in because the guy outside the hut looked a bit suspicious and we didn’t have time or energy to spare. The Napoleon route over the Pyrenees is a big constant climb to around 1400 metre and we were pretty focussed on getting across to the other side. It was so cold I thought it would snow and a few times I told Charlotte I am just channelling all my energy in to my fingers. The day had been amazing and I was sufficiently warm and fit enough to get across but I did find myself wondering what frost bite would look like (and how I could possibly type my blog with damaged fingers).  Suzanne had the same “cold fingers” experience (must have been an  Australian thing) and she went straight into The Hut. She arrived earlier (because she’s a gun and walks very quickly) and was probably the first ones there. She recalled weighing up the possible danger of going into a hut in the middle of nowhere (versus frost bite on her fingers) and in she went prepared to sacrifice her body as long as those fingers got into the fire!  The funny comments about her reflections and her risk assessment of the situation provide a great sense of entertainment that night and during other nights when the gang got together.

There have been plenty of opportunities to feel the magical spirit of the Camino especially with kindness and helpfulness from the locals. As Charlotte, Suzanne and I walked out of Pamplona we stopped in a local fruit shop to get a banana, we were offered a strawberry (very delicious) and the price was very cheap. I pulled out a 50 Euro note (same as Suzanne) and we cringed at how annoying this would be for the shop keeper. Luckily we found the right change in our purse and after some polite chat, we headed off back on the Camino. Four shops away the young shopkeeper called us back and returned the 50 Euro note I had dropped. A beautiful act of kindness and honesty and I wouldn’t have even noticed it missing until the night.

I am a Christian, and baptised in the Anglican Church, I celebrate my faith in my own very personal way. I don’t attend church often but do take something away most of the time. I enjoy sermons that are engaging and relevant. It’s fair to say not all priests are engaging (or relevant). I have never sat through a service in another language and never been in an 11th or 12th century church. The service in Pamplona was moving (but that’s not even the right word, I can’t find the right word to describe it). It was sort of like that lump you get in your throat when you recall something really moving or special and tears well up in your eyes and you think to yourself “am I going to cry or something”? Listening to the locals singing was just beautiful and nearly the whole mass was sung. By the time the “peace be with you” part came up I was feeling amazing.

There is of course a similar feeling when walking through northwest Spain. Those mountains and fields of wheat, the flowers and listening to the birds singing. Today I set out on my own from Estella. My first real “solo” day. I will miss Charlotte and hope she can experience more of the Camino in coming years.  She was a great conversationalist and made the time pass quickly. Sometimes we just walked and other times we talked and while we are quite different we found many things in common. I found walking alone meant I had to keep my eyes open and tuned in to the sign posts. It also meant that at breakfast (finally) I was forced to open my guide book and browse through some key points for the day!

I stopped at Bodegas Irache, which has a font of both water and wine. There were people filing up their water bottles with wine (I thought this a bit silly personally) wine is served with the meal and if you do have to pay for it it’s very cheap. When I got there it was only just 8:30am and that’s far too early to be drinking wine in my opinion. Spanish wine is delicious and the highlight of the evening with fellow Pilgrims. There continue to be familiar faces along with way, Sophie (German born and living in Canada), Nuala  (from Ireland) and of course the sisters from Holland Kaaren and Lucia. I have also seen the mother and daughter combination from the US (the daughter Crystal) has a squirrel mascot on her walking pole and his name is “nuts” (as you would expect!).

I spoke briefly to a German man in is 70s and also a Scott from the US who set off with a friend who was joining him for a week but sustained an injury and was bussing ahead. This is a pretty common thing for people so that pairs can continue (one walks on alone and the other one goes by bus or taxi so they can recover). Injuries happen to everyone (all ages and fitness levels) and I am so blessed that I haven’t sustained any so far. No blisters either which mean not only did I train my stamina, I had trained by feet, shoes and socks right. I hope those of you who are praying for me will keep my health in mind as poor health means a hard days walk. If the walk is hard you don’t see all the beauty that surrounds you (well you see it, but your energy is focussed elsewhere).

I went to mass again in Los Arcos. I couldn’t work out the time it started but headed into the square and visited the church and took some photos. I guessed it was on at 7:30PM and was right, they have a special Pilgrim’s component and we all received a prayer card in our own language. This was very special and lovely to see some of the familiar faces (Pilgrims from the Camino) also in church. As a non-Catholic I have been going up for a blessing but the priest gives me the communion anyway. I understand that Helen does the same, so I will work that one out a bit more as I go along. The church service was longer than the one in Pamplona and not sung all the way through. The singing was loud and in beautiful harmony, but this time there was no organ music. The locals who attend are all over 70 which is sad but the Pilgrims filled the church which was joyous, they prayed for us on our journey and asked the Pilgrims to pray for the church community. It was just so lovely.

My bar experience was also very pleasant. I  found a quiet sunny spot in a “local” bar which, amazingly was playing all my favourite songs from the 70s, 80s and 90s. I had three tonic waters with extra lemon, and felt relaxed and hydrated and happy.  The rain clouds had been blown away and the sun was shining brightly through the window. I sat next to a big window and it was like sitting next to a fire. It was a  bit nippy outside due to the wind and I was enjoying this unique spot I found to write. The bar tender wanted me to taste the local beer (so did my walking companions earlier in the square) but it’s a bit too cold for beer for me. I am happy to enjoy the local red wine later for dinner. It was so cosy and I figured if I sat much longer I may have  nodded  off! I left to wonder around about 7:00PM and found my way to the church.

I will sign off now and work on uploading some of my better photos in the coming days. I started this draft yesterday and have woken early today to review and post before heading off to  Logrono. It’s 28kms today and I imagine I won’t have the time or energy to write when I get in this afternoon.  I have taken lots of lovely photos and spent an hour yesterday afternoon in the bar  deleting all the bad ones and starting the draft of this page (which I will publish now).

If anyone wonders what it’s like walking these distances, it’s amazing. Everyone on the Camino “gets that” that’s why they are here.

“There is nothing like walking to get the feel of a country. A fine landscape is like a piece of music; it must be taken at the right tempo. Even a bicycle goes too fast.” Paul Scott Mowrer

Signing off for now – The Happy Pilgrim

Reflections from Pamplona

“Walking is the great, the first meditation, a practice of heartiness and soul primary to humankind. Walking is the exact balance between the spirit and humility” – Gary Snyder

Firstly thank you to everyone who has been posting their comments of support on Facebook, my blog or directly to my email they are all appreciated. It’s been quite an adventure and I am keen to share it with you. It is however, hard to know where to start (i.e. chronologically, by topic or just by observations).

St Jean Pied de Port
A beautiful village literally at the foothills of the pass across the Pyrenees from France to Spain. A populations of 1,800 – alt 170m, according to my guide book it is “the ancient capital of the Basque region of Basque-Navarre and retains a delightful medieval atmosphere”. It has narrow cobbled streets that weave through the village and out on to the Camino and is a beautiful, picturesque place to start my Camino.

I  was nervous the first day (but not terrified) and found walking by myself through the village taking photos quiet peaceful and reassuring. The bells were ringing for church and as Pilgrims made their way out of the village, the locals were heading to the church service.

My journey to SJPDP had taken 6 and a half hours which is truly amazing given it was only 197kms! How long should that take right?  I managed to make it by bus from Bilbao to Hendaye with 13 minutes to spare (phew!) I was advised there was no train at that time, despite the timetable. The train was “off the rails" for repair and I would need to catch the next one!  I had read about this in my research, apparently this was not uncommon. I spent quite some time waiting at both Hendaye  train station (90mins) and Bayonne (just under 3 hours). Still it gave me time to enjoy the town and contemplate what was ahead of me.

There were a growing wave of Pilgrims on the transport and by the next leg (bus to SJPDP) we were all Pilgrims, chatting with excitement and nervousness, smiling widely and enjoying the countryside. Some of the Pilgrims (like us Australians) had come a long way and used the ride to catch a quick cat-nap. When Pilgrims along the way ask where you started, they are curious about how you got to St Jean Pied de Port as it’s not that simple but so worth it. I sat next to an Australian (Kerry) from Melbourne and had dinner with her that night. She was very jet lagged and was spending an additional day there. She is a day behind but, knowing what I do now, I am sure I will run into along The Way.

We arrived at 7:30pm, which was 3 hours later than my original plan.  I did hope to explore the town a little more before I headed out the next da.  I made the most of this endless light (it doesn’t get dark until quite late). I unpacked a little, had a bath and met up with Kerry to go to the Pilgrims office together which thankfully stayed open until 10:00pm. I chose a shell and purchased my Pilgrims Passport. I was too excited and nervous to really listen to what the volunteer told us. (Fortunately Kerry was taking it all in and we had sufficient information to read and take away). The volunteers at the Pilgrims Office are kind souls and have seen many Pilgrims before. The one who looked after us let me take a selfie with her and gave me a big warm hug, which was just what I needed. I took a few more photos and then Kerry and I had a quick bite to eat. It was nothing flash we chatted for a short time (both aware of our need for sleep). It was there that I said the first of my many goodbyes to a fellow Pilgrim.

Orrisson (8kms)            
There are two schools of thought;

SJPDP through to Roncevaux (or Roncesvalles) 26kms;
or
Break it up at the only available accommodation on the way, a private allbergue either at Hunto (5kms) or Orrisson (8kms).

I was mindful that I didn’t over do it on my first day, and while there was a bit of down time in Orrisson, it actually allowed me an opportunity to meet new people and relax into the journey. On a good weather day I know (now) I could have made it but I would have been so tired. I wouldn’t have met the people I did or taken the tour of the church or had sufficient energy to socialise for a little in the evening. I met and socialised and sat with at dinner;  Elvie (US) and Eve (GER) and Hans (GER) and Lars (DENMARK), Charlotte from (DENMARK) and a couple from Japan and a couple from Holland. There were many others there that night and we had dinner together and at the end were encouraged to stand up and introduce ourselves. The beauty of this was that when you saw them again, in the next town or on The Way, you had a familiar face and  someone to ask “can I join you?” if you felt like company.

The walk to Orrisson was misty and beautiful and a challenge because it was quite steep. The mist wasn’t so bad and I had worked up a big healthy sweat (everyone was the same!). This meant that some of the view wasn’t there but it also meant that when the mist moved on,  the view was a beautiful surprise! I walked alone the whole way and was grateful for the company that Orrisson had to offer. Many people communicate well in English and the conversations were fun, sometimes hilarious and full of Camino spirit.

Orrisson to Roncevaux was difficult only due to the inclement weather. May as well get the inclement weather over since it’s here I thought and rugged up accordingly. It was very windy, lots of rain and extremely cold. I was silly and forgot to pack my pocket warmers and gloves but was warm enough to survive if I kept walking. I had my new rain jacket for the first time, and it  served me extremely well. My hat didn’t didn’t leave my head (even though the wind was very strong)  and I carried some hot water in my mini thermos for some jasmine tea.

The exit at Orrisson in the morning was like a massive evacuation. I actually forgot to pick up my lunch, couldn’t find my ticket and then realised I had moved my money purse someone and went into one of those nervous hunting sprees. I was later to discover that the ham and cheese roll (boccadillo) wasn’t worth the 5 Euros and it sat at the top of my pack all day uneaten. I nibbled on it at the end of the journey, there was no time to eat something like that on this leg.

The magic of the Camino unfolded as I headed off behind everyone. I wasn’t going to rush and Eve (who had a terrible sleep) waited patiently for me.  She wasn't keen to rush off either. The pace was slow but I walked with her because she needed company and encouragement. At one point she thought about turning back because  wasn’t energised for the day ahead. I am pleased my encouragement was working but knew I couldn’t walk with her the whole way because I was too cold to walk at that pace. Elvie had started a little earlier than us but it wasn't long before we caught up as she was walking at a slower pace. She was a veteran she'd told us the night before but hadn't walked over the mountain.  I knew Eve was close enough to Elvie (in fitness) to be a better suited walking companion.  I continued on my own, with a message from Elvie to Charlotte up ahead. I was later to discover just how good Elive would be at passing on messages to Pilgrims along the way. For somone without a smart-phone (she had a dumb one) this message sending was quite amazing!
Elive’s message to Charlotte was to keep walking and not wait for her. It was almost like poetry and a “handover” and I was so grateful to have the company of Charlotte over the mountains. I will treasure that crossing and that friendship for the rest of my life.

Charlotte spoke great English (luckily for me) and we kept up a constant pace. We were cold and encouraged each other by chatting. On the tough parts we were quiet and on the parts where the sun came out, or the mist cleared and a rainbow presented itself to us we celebrated those victories. Later in Roncevaux we were to discover many Pilgrims had seen the rainbows, appreciated the sun when it peered through the clouds and the shelter behind the rocks with the wild mountain ponies. The ladies at the Pilgrim office strongly encouraged us not to travel into the town on the shorter leg through the woodlands due to the mud. It was dangerous they said and we could slip and injure ourselves.  We went along the road which was still beautiful and provided an exquisite view coming into the village. Later Pilgrims coming into Zubiri said it was harder, steeper and muddier coming into to Zubiri so we thought that advice was strange. We did run the risk of being blown off the top of the Pyrenees that day.  The term “sheep graziers alert” came to mind. This is why they wear those bells because you can hear them when they’re airborne and coming towards you!

My accommodation was outstanding, it was warm and spacious and I could wash the mud off my boots and get warm. Regenerated after this I took my camera and explored the village which was just beautiful. I ran into Hans who told me about a tour at 6:00pm and we met up with those who wanted to at 7:00pm for dinner. A social pattern for the next few days. The tour of the church as gorgeous but I got left behind in the church when they all went through a door. I clicked one more photo and went to follow but the door didn’t open. Charlotte saw me from the next level and I sat quietly taking a few photos and reflecting until the lights went off. As people came into the church they put in a coin and the lights came back on (novel marketing strategy). When they didn’t come back I wandered out and went to the tourist shop down further. I then noticed another group and wondered if I could join them, but then Charlotte spotted me and pulled me under her wing. The guide apologised for leaving me behind and was grateful I hadn’t been locked in an ancient monastery. I was pleased I had found Charlotte as I had grown quite accustomed to her humour and kindness and didn’t want our paths to part so early!

Later that night I was to meet Suzanne (from Melbourne) also staying in the same hotel. We asked if Helen (from the UK) along with Charlotte (who were both staying in the albergue) could join us for breakfast. We planned to all head out together to Zubiri in the morning.  We approached the hotel reception manager and as long as we kept it a “secret” our visitors could pay and join us.  Helen is 69 and fit and smart and an inspiration to us all. She has also done the Camino before (but not this section she had started in Burgos the year before. I had already met a number of Pilgrims who were on their second time. It is interesting, I guess for some people it is a once off journey but for others it becomes something they want to do again. I wonder what our thoughts will be in Santiago....
This combination of Pilgrims would prove to be very successful over the next few days. We walked together and then separated and then joined up over the next few days all the way to Pamplona. It really was so much fun.


Zubiri was fun (and I got some great photos which will post later) and Pamplona was just amazing.

I am posting this now but there is more to follow. I have been making the most of the warm weather in Pamplona and have lots more stories to share. Needless to say Spain is amazing, but what is equally noteworthy are the people you meet along the way. The experience Charlotte and I had crossing the Pyrenees and the funny way we debriefed about the experiences with Suzanne in the Zubiri and again in Pamplona has been unique and hilarious. The story of “The Hut” is one for next time, but needless to say I have managed to pair up with some great walking companions with a wicked sense of humour.  The blog is a great idea for me to recall my journey (and share with my followers) but there doesn’t appear to be enough time in the day to to it justice. I have been able to post photos on Facebook easily using snaps from my iPhone, but haven't worked out a streamlined way to move these my higher quality photos onto my blog as yet. There is plenty of time and I am sure I will work that out.

Enjoy and more to follow
The Happy Pilgrim