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Tuesday 25th April 2023

Distance 21.9km (13.6 ml). Total Ascent 300m (984 ft)

Puente La Reina – Estella

I had a good sleep and woke up refreshed. I got up about 6am and was by no means the first. I was out of the Albergue as dawn was breaking and found a nice quiet spot across the road to say Morning Prayer, sitting on the base of an old stone cross which seemed appropriate. Then it was a short walk through the town to go over the actual bridge which gives its name to the town. I passed a couple of bars which were serving breakfast but decided to press on.

I had been hoping for some social interaction and just as I was walking across the bridge someone I had met before stopped for a brief chat so that felt good.

The walk started by walking up the valley. It was pleasantly flat and easy walking but I shouldn’t have been lulled into a false sense of security.

Just round the corner was a steep climb through a beautiful wooded valley, which was mercifully quite short, followed by a fairly steep descent into the next valley. This was the theme of today’s stage – up and down. There were fields of wheat and what I assume was mustard or oilseed rape.

I stopped at the village of Maneru and had my preferred breakfast of coffee and a napoletana (pain au chocolat) sitting at a table outside watching the pilgrims pass by. Who should appear but the man who was in the same dormitory as me at Saint Jean Pied de Port. I had met him again half way up the Pyranees but never expected to meet again. We shared some experiences of the past few days and then off I went again. It was more up and down to another hilltop village of Cirauqui.

These villages had retained a lot of their medieval charm and quaint cobbled streets albeit a bit on the steep side.

It was more steep ups and downs. I was concentrating on getting up the hills and the physical challenge of the day, only to realise I had crossed an authentic Roman bridge. The weather was getting hotter and hotter and today there didn’t seem to be much shade.

Why is it that the last two or three kilometres at the end of the walk are twice as long as the ones at the beginning of the day? As I was walking I decided it was a week since I had started and maybe resting on the seventh day would be a good idea. I knew I had plenty of time so wasn’t under any pressure. My next destination, the town of Estella seemed like a good place for a day off.

I got to Estella in good time to check in to the Parochial Albergue of Saint Miguel. It was a tiny Albergue and the bunk beds had almost no room between them. I started getting my stuff out of my backpack then I thought I should book a room for the following night. I found a cheap hotel on Booking.com and booked online. It was then I suddenly felt overwhelmed by being surrounded by strangers, being crowded and anxious and on impulse booked the room for tonight, then packed up again and checked out!

I don’t know what it was unless it was just the accumulation of the experiences and stresses of the past few days. Whatever it was I walked through the town to my hotel room with en-suite bathroom and a bed with proper mattress and sheets. I did feel a tinge of guilt that I had chickened out but after a lovely shower and a siesta on my comfortable bed I felt a lot better.

After my nap I walked back into the town and had a look round. It had some really interesting buildings and charming streets.

I ended up in the main square and felt confident enough to sit and order a meal and have a well deserved (I thought so!) beer.

It was good to watch the world go by. There were plenty of pilgrims around so I still felt part of the Camino.

After my meal I went back to my hotel and after reading for a while I drifted off to sleep.

Monday 24th April 2023

Distance 23.8km (14.8 ml). Total Elevation 470m (1542 ft)

Pamplona – Puente La Reina

I finally got up at 6am. It seemed a thing that people start getting up anytime after 5am, some of whom start walking in the dark. Apparently the man in the bunk underneath me got up at 4.30am for a shower to beat the rush! I set off through the deserted streets of the city with a totally transformed mood. I was feeling positive and enthusiastic. I got as far as the park I had noticed yesterday and sat on a bench in the half light to say Morning Prayer. The sky began to brighten and then it was time for me to set off in earnest .. as far as a Panaderia (Bakery) for a coffee and a lovely ham and cheese croissant.

It was great to have two poles again and the going was easy to start with, leading out through parkland towards the first incline of the day. I walked beside the road for a while to the village of Cizur Minor.

Once over the brow of the village the first goal of the day came into view., the long climb up and over the Alto del Perdon with it’s wind turbines. It was a beautiful morning, such a pleasure to walk though the lush fields.

As I passed beside fields of young wheat I began thinking of and then singing an Easter Carol I had been reminded of when I was in Zabaldika. I did check to make sure no other pilgrims were in earshot though, I didn’t want to be thought of as too odd.

Now the green blade rises from the buried grain
Wheat that in the dark earth many days has lain;
Love lives again, that with the dead has been;
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

In the grave they laid Him, love who men had slain,
Thinking that never He would wake again,
Laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen;
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

Forth He came at Easter, like the risen grain,
He that for three days with the dead had lain;
Quick from the dead, my risen Lord is seen,
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
Thy touch can call us back to life again,
Fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been;
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

This is the version I remember from an album I had back in 1972.

Taking a photo of the view behind was always a good excuse for a rest as the way got steeper. A Canadian woman caught up to me and we walked and chatted together for a while but she was a faster walker than me so we parted company. There were many of these types of encounters on the way.

The little village of Zariquiegui came into view, and no I don’t know how to pronounce it! This was a good opportunity to get a drink and a snack and take a moment in the village church to pause and pray. It was onward and upward though.

Once at the top you see the iconic metal artwork representing pilgrims through the ages. It was put up by the power company when they built the wind turbines. There is an inscription on one of the figures,

Where the way of the wind crosses the way of the stars

Poetry as public relations? They seem to have a different relationship with onshore wind turbines than we do in this country. Reaching the summit was a good time for a break, as it was mainly downhill from here to my destination for the day of Puente la Reina. It wasn’t a long break though as in the back of my mind I knew that I hadn’t booked my accommodation for that night and there was always this itch to keep walking and make sure I had a bed. I kept telling myself that God would provide but my brain wasn’t listening. The views were spectacular.

As I left to start the descent I wanted to take a moment to visit a memorial to the locals who were killed during the Spanish Civil War. In the midst of medieval history it was good to think about more recent tragedies. A central stone is surrounded by smaller stones for each of the local villages. I paused for some moments of reflection. I asked myself if there was a reason they raised it here on the ‘Alto del Perdon’, the Mount of Forgiveness.

I was soon back to concentrating on the descent, which was steep and difficult with lots of loose stones and pebbles. I was relying on my poles.

I was glad when I was back on more level and gentle farm tracks again. As I walked I really loved the wild flowers beside the path.

As I passed through the villages of Uterga and Muruzabal I had to decide whether I would take a detour and visit the beautiful 12th Century church of Santa Maria de Eunate. It had been on my list of places I wanted to visit but in the end my destination was pulling me on and I didn’t want to detour to what might be just a tourist trap.

Eventually after plenty of more minor ups and downs and passing by a whole load of allotments I arrived at the Albergue Padres Reparadores. As would happen again and again, I needn’t have been anxious, I could have taken my time and still had a bed for the night.

The first order of business after checking in, was to shower and do my laundry. The beds were noisy but in cubicles of four in a smaller room which was a change from last night. As I was seen as old I got a bottom bunk and didn’t feel at all guilty when two French ladies turned up later and were allocated top bunks.

I had a wander round town and visited two churches which were quite sublime.

After returning to the Albergue for a rest, I ventured out again once the supermarket was open to get some supplies for my evening meal. After that I read for a while and had an early night.

Zabaldika – Pamplona

Today started on a high physically, mentally and spiritually. I woke up, well rested at the Albergue at Zabaldika perched high on the side of the river valley. The weather was fine and I only had a short walk planned into the city of Pamplona. I too was still enjoying the spiritual high of the love and peace of yesterday. I was able to say Morning Prayer in the porch of the church, watching dawn break over the valley. I was brought to tears by the words of Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd
therefore can I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures
and leads me beside still waters.
He shall refresh my soul
and guide me in the paths of righteousness for his names sake.

All is well on the Camino. It was good to set out again that morning, the sun began to shine and the birds were singing. Even having one walking pole wasn’t stressing me at all.

The trail was good, and fairly easy going, despite the occasional muddy patch left over from yesterday and it was good to have wonderful views over the valley. It didn’t seem long before I came to the next landmark. The bridge and church with it’s adjoining Albergue at La Trinidad de Arre. I took the opportunity to go into the church and have a moment of quiet and a short prayer.

This town was the first I had passed through and the only real signs of life on this Sunday morning were those preparing for some kind of community road race. From here it blends into the outskirts of Pamplona and it was pavement walking from now on.

The way they prune the trees along streets and in squares to provide shade in the summer makes it quite different. There were moments closer to the city centre when you were walking beside the river.

Once across the bridge the impressive city walls came into view and then just round the corner was the gate into the city proper.

I arrived in the city about 9.45 to discover it was very quiet. It was a Sunday morning I suppose.

The first thing I wanted to do was replace my broken walking pole. Whilst I was managing with just one it wasn’t ideal and I have come to rely on using my poles when walking long distances. Thankfully there was a well stocked shop catering for pilgrims which was open and I was soon sorted.

I checked out the Albergue where I planned to stay and realised people had already started queuing even though it didn’t open for another couple of hours. I thought I might as well join the queue as I had plenty of time to have a look round and it wanted to offload my backpack and get settled before exploring.

Queuing at Albergues is a great social experience. Everyone is friendly and ready to chat and share experiences. A French guy asked us to look after his pack whilst he went for coffee. On his return I did the same. It assumes a level of trust which was really refreshing. Of course I carried my passport, money and phone on me all the time. I found a nearby cafe and got a coffee and was listening to the background music when what should i hear but “I’m gonna be” (500 miles) by the Proclaimers. I thought this was a great encouragement.

When I returned the the queue I got chatting to a man from Kinloss in Scotland who was walking for charity. I admired his fitness and resilience, even if it was a little overwhelming. He had already walked other long distance trails including the Camino once before and was around the same age as me. I think I felt somewhat ‘diminished’ in comparison which looking back on it now as I write this in July after finishing my journey was quite wrong.

Once the Albergue opened I got my bunk, which unusually was a top one this time. The bunk did sway a lot when I was climbing up which was a bit disconcerting. It was just one huge space which had been subdivided inside, I decided an apt description of this would be ‘ A pilgrim storage unit’. I got my stuff sorted, left my power bank charging and wandered off for a look around the city. It was completely different now, it was packed with people, eating and drinking at the pavement bars and then in one of the squares I caught the tail end of some kind of traditional folk event.

On one level it was great but I was somewhat overwhelmed by the crowds and the noise. I think it was the contrast with the peace and tranquillity of yesterday at Zabaldika. I wasn’t sure I liked cities and I felt isolated with my poor Spanish and unfamiliarity with the culture. I ended up with a ham and cheese baguette with tomato sauce.

There were some quieter bits of the city.

When I returned to the Albergue I couldn’t find my power bank. I had a good look but came to the conclusion someone had taken it. My already fragile mood plummeted further. I wrote in my journal that I had been ” stupidly naive” to trust pilgrims. It was like yesterday and the words of Psalm 23 that morning had never happened. I moped around trying and failing to be positive about this, it was only a power bank after all! Eventually I climbed up into my precarious top bunk.

The man on the lower bunk returned and started getting ready for bed. He called out asking if this belonged to anyone. It was my power bank! My negative thinking was completely baseless. It shows that ups and downs didn’t just apply to the terrain. I did lie awake for ages though listening to the sounds of the many pilgrims surrounding me.

Saturday 22nd April 2023

Distance 12.7km (7.9 ml). Total Elevation 360m (1181 ft)

Zubiri – Zabaldika

People in the dormitory began moving around by 5.30. I quickly got dressed and found a quiet spot in the lounge downstairs to say Morning Prayer. The day dawned with rain, cloud and mist such a contrast with yesterday. I was not under time pressure today as I had booked breakfast at the Albergue and had decided to have a shorter walk today to the parochial albergue of the 12th century church of St Esteban at Zabaldika, a distance of just 12.7km. I had read about this place in the guide book as a great place to visit.

Today was the first day of my pilgrimage without booking any accommodation for that evening. I did feel some anxiety about this even though I kept telling myself to trust in God. The hostel I wanted to stay at did not take bookings so I didn’t have any choice. I was still suffering somewhat from the mass panic which began when I got to Roncesvalles on the first day. So many people had not booked and when bed space ran out there they were suddenly trying to book somewhere to stay each night of their journey. One pilgrim was so anxious he was considering going home if he couldn’t book anywhere ahead. Today was my chance to trust that the Camino would provide as the saying goes.

As I crossed back over the bridge to rejoin the trail the contrast in weather could not be greater, yesterday hot sun, today heavy rain. It was no more than what I expected starting my walk in April and gave me an opportunity to see how effective my waterproofs were.

Also in contrast to yesterday’s rural countryside the first landmark today is the Magna industrial plant. I am used to walking past industry around my home so I am happy to embrace this as part of the richness of the landscape.

There was no let up in the rain and I walked on, (almost a song there!). Whilst I was walking on my own there were never many times when I was not in sight of pilgrims ahead and behind me, so it wasn’t really a solitary walk. I chatted to a man from Sydney, Australia for a while who was so proud as an immigrant to be serving as a Justice of the Peace. I came across a group of Italians I had met last Wednesday too.

A lot of the paths beside the river were steep up and down and quite treacherous with mud and slippery stones. It definitely wasn’t a day for a picnic lunch.

I arrived at my destination for the day really early, about 11.00am. I was a little wet but the climb up to the hillside church wasn’t too bad. I still didn’t know how things worked with these places which didn’t take any bookings, my anxiety was still there.

As it happened I needn’t have worried which seems to be the case so often. The church and Albergue are looked after by Sisters of the Sacred Heart. The church door was open and the Sister who was welcoming pilgrims beckoned me in out of the rain. I left my backpack at the door and explained that I was very early but wanted to stay that night. Sister Maria Assumpta, as that was here name explained that the Albergue did not open until 2pm but I was welcome to bring my pack in and take off my waterproofs and make myself at home in the church. She even offered me the use of a space upstairs where there were blankets if I wanted to get warm, or even lie down.

I took the opportunity to look around using the handy guide provided in English. The Retablo at the east end of the church was interesting and included a statute of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. Sister Maria told me about her veneration of the Blessed Virgin and how she viewed the Assumption.

I took the opportunity to pray, catch up with my journal and in a break in the rain to sit on a stone bench in the church porch and have my picnic lunch. As I was sitting there I got chatting with a young lady who was from The United States. It turned out she was Episcopalian and gay so we kind of bonded at that point. It was great to share our journeys of faith with each other. The sun eventually came out and I was able to appreciate the views from the church across the valley.

Throughout this time there was a steady trickle of pilgrims passing by and visiting the church but despite this there was an overwhelming sense of peace and love.

I checked in to the Albergue when it opened and had a pick of beds. The church may have been built in the 12th century but the Albergue was very 21st century having been recently upgraded. Throughout the afternoon the Albergue filled up, but I realised that there was never any realistic prospect of me not getting a bed as long as I got there in a reasonable time.

Sister Maria explained that there was a parish Mass that evening and that I was welcome to take the bread even though I wasn’t a catholic. They translated parts of the service into English for the benefit of the pilgrims who were there and I felt much more a part of it especially sharing the bread.

There was a communal meal that evening which was a simple but delicious meal of salad, lentil and chorizo stew/soup and a fruit salad all with the ubiquitous wine and bread. All this and the night’s accommodation was all provided on a donation basis.

After the meal there was a special pilgrim’s service in the church. Out of the 16 or so staying that night there were only 4 pilgrims there together with the three Sisters, but somehow that made it all the more special. Each pilgrim shared something of why they were on the pilgrimage and then we received a blessing. I must admit to being close to tears. I said to people if I had to end my Camino now I would be happy.

Check out my post Wisdom from Zabaldika for some words of wisdom from the Sisters of The Sacred Heart.

Friday 21st April 2023

Distance 21.9km (13.6 ml). Total Ascent 250m (820 ft)

Roncesvalles – Zubiri

The guidebook gives the impression that in contrast to yesterday today was downhill all the way. I didn’t feel quite like that though, but that’s getting ahead of myself.

As would be the case most days on my pilgrimage I woke sometime after 5.00am when I could hear the early risers getting packed up ready to start walking in the dark. I was not that keen. My walking days start when it is light enough to see what I am walking through.

The Albergue at Roncevalles starts their day at 6.00am when the lights go on and they play Gregorian chant. I was up and doing my ablutions just before then to beat the rush. I must admit is a lovely start to a pilgrim’s day and certainly emphasises that this isn’t a normal holiday. Not long after that one of the volunteer hospitaleros (hosts) came around singing.

I was soon packed up and made my way to the courtyard. I picked up my remaining walking pole which I had managed to mislay and chatted to one of the hospitaleras (female host) which was a real boost to my mood. A reasonable if somewhat disturbed night’s sleep and some encouragement were enough to set me up for the day. It was a massive contrast to how I felt as I arrived yesterday.

I had plenty of time before it was light enough to walk so I found a quiet bench in the courtyard to say Morning Prayer. It was quite wonderful seeing the sky lightening with the knowledge that pilgrims have stayed here for over 1000 years.

As I made my way out of the monastery complex I was please to find that the 12th century chapel of Saint James was open so popped in for a quick prayer.

The sky was brightening and I was keen to get going. By this time there was a constant stream of pilgrims walking. We were soon into woodland which was just lovely in the still morning air and the occasional glimpse of the sun rising over the hills. Coming out of the wood at the village of Burguete I stopped for breakfast at the first place I came to. I tried out the tortilla – a ‘cake’ of egg, potato and onions served with a chunk of fresh crusty bread. I had coffee with milk. I had not been sat down long when the Irishman I had met two days ago over breakfast in Saint Jean Pied de Port joined me and we caught up with our experiences to date.

I left him at the shop and continued on through pastures and woodland of a lovely (and flat) valley.

I stopped in the next village of Espinal and tried out my very basic Spanish in the village shop. I was quite proud of myself as I managed to get a fresh baguette, some cheese, ham and an apple without too much embarrassment. I sat on a wall in the sunshine and had something to eat as I watched pilgrims passing me. I had tonight’s accommodation booked so didn’t feel under pressure at all.

I set off again but this was where the up and down started again. Not at all in yesterday’s league but it was still a challenge and was stopping quite often on the way up the hills. It was beautiful countryside though. We went over the Alto de Mezquiritz (955metres) then down through the next village and up the other side to the Alto de Erro (855metres).

As we climbed up this final hill it became much hotter but thankfully there was more woodland for shade.

We entered an area of pine forest and on a hot day like today the smell of the pine was beautiful such a contrast to the pig farm I had passed earlier. It wasn’t just the views that were overwhelming my senses. Today was a day where I was very consciously dividing my attention between the big views and the more immediate things like the wild flowers and the smells.

There was a welcome refreshment truck near the final summit and I treated myself to a beer. By this time the sun was so strong and hot so I knew I needed to replenish my electrolytes. The final stretch was a fairly steep downhill path which was quite treacherous underfoot. I was glad I had my boots and that it wasn’t raining. I took it slowly and carefully and arrived at the bridge into the town.

Tonight’s Albergue was a privately owned one, EL Palo Avellano. It was very well appointed. A lower bunk bed as last night. But the showers were hot and I was able to catch up with my washing. I had booked my evening meal and breakfast tomorrow so in the end never got round to looking around the village.

As I was waiting in the lounge for the evening meal I got chatting to Des (the Irishman from this morning and the day before), together with a Belgian man. The talk this evening was of politics and Brexit. It was certainly stimulating. I also met a lad who had damaged his knee coming down the same path I had used to Roncesvalles. There but for the grace of God, at least all I broke was a walking pole rather than my knee. We had a great pilgrim’s dinner 3 courses with wine and bread. It was great to be with people from so many different countries. I met some British women who I wouldn’t meet again until the last week of my journey.

It looked like the fine weather wasn’t going to last. There were rumbles of thunder then the rain came that evening. Thankfully my washing had dried. I checked the weather forecast and it wasn’t looking good for tomorrow. I fell asleep that night with the sound of the rain falling.

Thursday 20th April 2023

Distance 25.1 km (15.6 ml). Total Ascent 1390m (4560 ft)

Saint Jean Pied de Port – Roncesvalles

After an OK but disturbed night I was up as soon as possible ready for breakfast at 6.00am. I had paid for the breakfast when I booked so made the most of it. I wanted to be ready to start walking as soon as it was light and was excited to actually begin. Prayer, though was a priority for me – so finding somewhere quiet to say Morning Prayer was the first task after leaving the hostel. Happily there weren’t many people around at that time in the morning so I just sat on a bench just along from the hostel. I did feel like I rushed things a bit though as I was anxious to be on my way. Eventually I set off just before 7.30 on Thursday 20th April – only 800km or 500 miles to go.

There were plenty of other pilgrims around so I found my way by following them and checking out the frequent way markers and them I made my way over the bridge and out of the town. It was quite steep at first and I was stopping quite often. I began to question how effective my preparation had been. Still, looking back and taking photographs is a good excuse for a rest. Just 10 minutes into the walk and I’m puffing and panting, though the sunrise over the hills lifts my mood.

After the first steep section it levelled and even went downhill so I thought I would manage. I knew this was one of the most, if not the most difficult days but it didn’t make it any easier.

It wasn’t all about the physical challenge though. As I walked I wanted to experience as much of my surroundings as I could, the sights, the sounds, and the smells! I wanted to immerse myself in this wonderful world. It was good to focus on details as I walked to like these roses.

It got steeper and steeper and more brutal as time wore on. My goal at this stage was to get to the 8km point at Orisson where there is a cafe. I had to get there though thankfully the views were so great, it made up for the difficulty. I hadn’t been in mountains like this before and with perfect weather every few metres there was another vista which took my breath away – it wasn’t just the physical challenge

After a particularly gruelling stretch into my head popped a chorus i learnt at church when I was very young….

When the road is rough and steep
Fix your eyes upon Jesus
He alone has power to keep
Fix your eyes upon Him
Jesus is a gracious Friend
One on whom you can depend
He is faithful to the end
Fix your eyes upon Him.

I hadn’t thought about that for close on 60 years. I am not sure it helped in a physical way but it kept me going.

As I passed by some young trees carefully planted beside the path, I was so pleased to realise the kindness of those volunteers who look after the trail. They were fruit trees, Apples, Plums and more planted as shade and fruit for pilgrims in the future.

Onward and upward though…..

Finally my first proper rest stop come into view — just two and three quarter hours after starting. Freshly squeezed orange juice and a slice of sweet almond cake on the terrace with views to die for. It makes the gruelling slog to get here worthwhile.

I congratulated myself on making it this far, no blisters and with a half hour rest I was ready to go on. I changed my socks as this was recommended to keep blisters at bay. It was still uphill but I was assured it wasn’t as steep, though I should have realised I still had two thirds of my walk to go until I reached today’s destination. Feeling refreshed after my break I set off again with renewed enthusiasm.

What it may have lacked in steep inclines it made up for in never ending slog. I was aiming for my next stop which was a food truck a few kilometres further on. My left foot was beginning to feel sore so I was glad when I finally reached it. I had some Aquarius and pressed on knowing I still had quite a way to go. When I eventually did stop and check I discovered a blister! I put a plaster on but it was more the disappointment and almost a feeling that I had failed. I know it sounds a bit over the top but I really thought I could get away without blisters. I had to press on though. I was very conscious I still had quite a distance to go and was nowhere near the highest point.

There were lighter moments though. An Italian lady who was in the next bed to me last night passed by. She greeted me and then turned to her friends and said, this is the man who I slept with last night. It came across rather differently than she meant but it was quite funny.

I was beginning to get view fatigue though and couldn’t possibly stop and take photos every five minutes. When I looked across and saw the snow covered peaks in the distance it was a wonderful moment.

The weather was perfect. I had psyched myself up to expect rain and/or fog and cloud, which I heard later was the case just two days after. It wasn’t even too hot as there was something of a cooling breeze. Finally we came to some woodland though up here the trees were just coming into bud.

We came to an iconic milestone on this part of the stage. Only 765km to go though I had my doubts about the accuracy of the distance.

Soon we came to the Fontaine de Roland. It is named after the great hero of Charlemagne and is still providing clean water to pilgrims.

The border with Spain is just here though there is nothing to mark it until you see this stone telling you you are now in the spanish province of Navarre.

It was tempting to think that I was nearly there but it wasn’t the case. Still more uphill climbing to do. Just keep following the yellow arrows. I was quite excited to see a snake, thankfully a small one moving away from me. Just a few steps more and there were three lizards. There were plenty of moments like that which meant it was not all about the physical slog. I was getting mire and more tited though and conscious of so many people passing me, it just seemed never ending.

Eventually I did reach the top and could actually see the monastery of Roncesvalles in the valley far below. I was so relieved. It was 3.15pm and I had reached Col de Lepoeder, the highest point at 1450 metres.

According to the guide book to get here from Saint Jean Pied de Port was a total ascent of 1390 meters. I had checked before I started and noted that Ben Nevis is only 1345 metres. I was shattered , the last hour or so was more and more of a struggle to keep going. It was downhill all the way from here but that had its own challenges….

I decided to be clever and take the shorter and more direct route down despite the fact it was rough and more hazardous. I’d come this far and my confidence had returned. It was difficult with very rocky sections. Most of the trail down was through forest which was such as contrast to the pastures and open mountains of the way up.

If I hadn’t been so careful not to fall, and so tired and anxious to get to the end I think I would have enjoyed this section even more. It was so quiet with just the sound of a stream as I neared the bottom. There was a massive patch of bluebells too.

Just before I got to Roncesvalles I noticed something odd and discovered that I had lost the tip of one of my walking poles, thus rendering it useless. So, nine hours after I started, I arrived not with a sense of joy and achievement but a feeling of disappointment and annoyance. This was compounded when I discovered I had over an hour to wait to check in and realised my blister on my heel was worse than I thought. I was however thankful I had booked in advance as by the time I got there they were turning people away.

The hostel here is a converted monastery which I read has since the 12th Century received ‘All pilgrims .. sick and well, Catholics, Jews, pagans, heretics and vagabonds. I am not quite sure where I fit in. Thankfully the accommodation has been upgraded since then. There is something to be said for being old though, you tend to get allocated the bottom bunk.

I didn’t get much chance to look around as by the time I had checked in, I had just enough time to get showered and changed before my pilgrims meal. It was a basic 3 course meal with wine and bread and the company of other pilgrims. I met someone I had chatted to yesterday as well as someone from Korea.

It was straight from the meal to the pilgrims Mass in the 13th century church. This was my first experience of a catholic Mass. It was in Spanish of course though the basic format is what I am used to. After the Mass there were prayers to the Virgin of the Camino who I gathered would look after us as a mother on the way. At the end there was the opportunity to go up to the front for a blessing. They listed the countries of the pilgrims who had checked in that day. It was a very long list. The whole world seemed to be there! Thankfully the rest, a shower and a good meal together with the Mass and Blessing take the sting out of my negative feelings and make me a little calmer.

It had been a very long day and I was happy to lie down on my bunk and wait for lights out at 10pm.

I seem to be unable to relax when travelling. I suppose I was excited and a little bit anxious too as I was beginning my final day before starting to actually walk. I had loads of time after waking up early in Bordeaux and ended up having a long wait at the train station. I love people watching so it is never boring. A highlight was a lad playing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah song on the station piano. Any mention of Hallelujah fits the theme.

The train arrived on time and I was thankful I got a seat as it was packed. I noticed a few people with backpacks but didn’t have an opportunity to chat with them and I assumed, correctly as it happened, that they too were pilgrims. Most of the journey was flat countryside with kilometre after kilometre of arable fields. As I approached Bayonne there was more and more pine forest/plantation. My main thought as I gazed out of the window was wistful almost regret that I hadn’t chosen to walk down through France after all.

I arrived at Bayonne station and this was the first time that I really felt part of the pilgrim community as there were quite a few of us wandering around the station not quite sure what to do next. I had bought my tickets in advance so was waiting for my train. I noticed a man drumming up custom for a direct bus to Saint Jean Pied de Port. To my shame I was unsure of my French and assumed that this was a scam. Eventually I realised that the train company had provided a direct bus to take pressure of the train and I decided that would be a better bet. The views on the bus were spectacular with wooded valleys and steep sided mountains. Interestingly the quaint looking little houses we passed all seemed to have white walls and dark red windows and doors. Looking at the scenery I did have a niggling thought that maybe I should have started walking at Bayonne which I had considered as an option.

Apart from the awesome scenery I spent my bus journey listening in to a couple of pilgrims in the seats behind me. I began to feel a bit intimidated by the ‘expert’ knowledge of one of them. It seems to be a common theme that I noticed having watched (too many) YouTube videos that you come across so many of these so called experts who know everything there is to know about the Camino. Thankfully it wasn’t too long before we arrived at Saint Jean.

When I arrived and collected my backpack I did what became something of a theme on my walk; if unsure of where to go, follow the pilgrims in front. I am pleased to say it almost always worked! I followed a line of pilgrims to the pilgrim’s office where we had a twenty minute wait until it opened. Waiting in queues gives an opportunity for people to talk to me and even occasionally for me to start a conversation! Immediately you are aware that you are part on an international community, when the first conversations you have are with two Australians and an New Zealander currently living in Manchester. I was walking on my own but very conscious of being a part of this crowd of people all on this Way of St James.

Checking in at the Pilgrim’s Office feels like the formal beginning of the walking stage of this part of my pilgrim journey. The first stamp in my Pilgrim Credential / Passport. The volunteers who staff the office are so helpful, it was more of a conversation than a formal transaction. They did warn me that it was much busier than expected and checked whether I had booked my place at Roncesvalles. As I came out of the office the evidence was there in front of me as the queue was getting longer and longer.

The pilgrim’s hostel I had booked, La Vita e Bella had a check-in time of 3pm but they didn’t mind me arriving early. This was going to be my first experience of staying in pilgrim hostels, which will be referred to as Albergues in Spain. This would be a day of so many new experiences. My hosts were so welcoming which mad this not quite as scary as it could have been. Despite reading so much about the Camino and watching videos – doing something for the first time in real life is very different.

I had the pick of the beds so picked one which wasn’t a bunk bed and began what would be a daily routine going forward, sort out my bed, get a shower and a shave, wash some clothes. Then I could relax. Today I didn’t need to rest so I went for a look around the town. The weather was glorious, hot and sunny. The town itself, nestled in the foothills of the Pyrenees is beautiful. A walled town with lots of quaint cobbled streets and a 17th century Citadel overlooking it. I wandered around and from the citadel tried to work out which direction I would be walking tomorrow.

I checked out the starting point which is the gateway under the tower.

Once through the gate you can look right and left along the river and then straight ahead up the street where I would take my first steps on the Way.

Then a quiet time to rest and pray and remember why I am doing this. There are so many thoughts and things in my head. It’s good to just pause and read out loud some of the prayers etc I have saved on my phone.

I had an evening meal at the hostel and enjoyed the company of other pilgrims. This time from Ireland and the Netherlands. I went for a stroll after my meal and really felt the excitement of finally starting my walk in the morning.

The dormitory had filled up by the time I got to bed so there was plenty of activity and it was certainly not a quiet and peaceful first night. I did however get to sleep sooner than I was expecting so perhaps communal living might not be as bad as I had been told. Despite being aware of snoring it didn’t keep me awake.