Ofcourse, I get up way too early and spend two hours waiting for the TGV to take me to Bayonne. My parents don't leave my side one moment. They're worried sick. If they could they'd lock me in my room. I have to admit I'm worried too. On top of that my backpack seems to weigh a ton (12kg, no water) and it's hurting my shoulders. Finally the train arrives and I say goodbye to my parents and I'm off. After a long ride I get to Bayonne where I take a small shaky train that'll carry me to St Jean Pied-de-Port. The train is filled with pilgrims of all nationalities. It's a beautiful trip through the Pyrrenées and everbody seems to enjoy the sights. We finally arrive and everyone spills nervously and giggly on the platform. The pilgrims fan out in all directions in search of their respective hotels and refugio. I ofcourse pick the wrong way and have to circle a large part of the large village before I find my hotel 'Hotel des Remparts'. I'm worried because my shoulders, back and legs hurt from a walk of no more than a kilometre. My feet feel hot and blistery. What a great start. The reception at the hotel is nice and I arrange breakfast and payment for tomorrow. My room is very small but I really don't want anything more.
I take a walk around town. It's very touristy. Pilgrims mill around all over the place and almost every shop is hawking staff, botas and other pilgrimage accoutrements. I like it. I pass the 'Amis de Saint-Jacques' and visit the citadel. The weather is fine and the views fantastic. I love it here. After an early dinner, I try to get some sleep. I'm not anxious as I have another day of exploring before me before I hit the road on monday. St Jean in the morning is unbelievably pretty. It reminds me once more of all the reasons why I love the mountains. The Pyrennees are one of the oldest mountain ranges and everythig looks very soft and green. Not at all cold (I hope it will stay this way tomorrow) and the birds are making a racket. I'm happy to see some sparrows as they're growing scarce in Belgium. St jean is bigger than expected but has less tourists than I feared although there are quite a lot of them. On a negative note, yesterday's small tramp already supplied me with an opened blister on my right heel, meaning I'll have to bandage my foot for tomorrow. Darn. I've already paid my hotel and bought some food for on the road, so I'm good to go. There are quite a lot of pilgrims roaming the streets, buying staffs and food.

To check my determination and general form, I walked to Hunto on the hottest part of the day, which was stupid. It took me 2 hours to do 5km without a backpack. Ok, that option is now closed, menaing I'll go the Valcarlos route instead of the mountain pass. My knee and ankle hurt quite a bit and the blister on my heel got worse if that was even possible. Feet are and will always be my weak point. I've had blisters in about any shoe I've ever owned. Well, I gave it a go and I truly enjoyed the marvellous views and humongous birds. So, up to Valcarlos tomorrow.

Left St Jean at 7.21 am. I'm very very nervous and am ready to throw up. I had to look a bit for the correct path, but it's easy really. I just have to follow the Petite Nive stream along the farms and fields. Many bovines look at me as at the proverbial train. I must look oddish. My backpack is dragging a bit on my shoulders and I'm trying to find a position that'll work but it's not easy to get used to the weight. Also, it's too heavy at 13kg. I'll stick with 12km to the village of Valcarlos although I seem to be moving at an ok pace. I've had a quick breakfast alongside the road which surprised some early drivers.
At around 10 am I crossed the border into Spain. YAY! I passed Las Ventas and am having a little sit-down. My shoulders still hurt but my feet are holding up so far. Thank god. The road went up and down like crazy, but if I go slow it's doable. More or less. Considering my condition (non-existant), I'm not doing too badly. Got persued by two dogs when I passed a house about an hour ago. Thankfully, the owner was there to restrain them, but I was really not at ease. A few years ago I was attacked by a big Rottweiler dog and I've been hesitant around large dogs ever since. A fear which I'm sure they sense.
It's rather cloudy today and somewhat cool although the sun peaks through from time to time. I'm glad I didn't take the mountain path as the hills are all covered in mist. There is not one pilgrim on this road. I'll see my first pilgrim tomorrow at the Ibaneta chapel.

I arrived in Valcarlos around 11.30am, earlier than I expected but I'm too tired to go further today. On top of that there is a diference of 8 km between the Lozano Guide (excellent) and the Confraternity of St James Guide (superb). Hm, we shall see. Ofcourse, I missed a turnoff at some point and instead of walking on the path next to the Nive I had to take the carretera for a couple of km. There wasn't much traffic on anyway and I could walk along the side without too much of a problem. I booked a room for tonight at Hotel Marcelino which is very nice but entirely spanish-spoken, which is a problem cause I'm not. Oh well, I catch their drift and they seem to get whatever I'm saying. I'm quite tired and happy to stop. I don't feel like hurrying since I have 3 month's time to complete the Camino. I prefer my body to get used to the new military regime.
I went for lunch at the other casa in the village and had some lovely Tapas, a few slices of mutton with french fries, some sheep's cheese for dessert and some wine to make it all go down. Delicious! As I was a little tipsy I enjoyed the wonderful vistas from a small bench outside for a couple of hours. It really is beautiful here. The ground is literally teeming with lizards in all sizes and butterfly's are all around. Wunderbar!

Up early again and off in a nice drizzle. Blergh. After about 1.5km on the carretera, I'm following a small farmtrack next to what I assume is still the Nive although it looks more aggressive today. Why in heaven's name am I doing this again? Took a quick desayuno in the middle of the pilgrim-free forest path. God bless my sleeping mat 'cause there's no way I'm gonna sit in the mud.
After about 4 hours, I finally made it to Ibaneta Pass and I'm dead. I really didn't think I would've made it. It's very cold and windy up here and I'm shivering so I quickly pull on my fleece jacket. Getting up here was very hard as it was an unrelenting climb on a very solitary path. I pulled a muscle in my groin which is hurting like hell. And my shoes are wet. boohoo. I have to say I really didn't see it happening on several occasions but I bloody well made it this far! Crappy uphill forest tracks! Cruddy mean dogs at the Casa de Guardino that followed me for 100m, snarling. Well I saw one biker pilgrim when crossing the carretera and ther's one pilgrim at Ibaneta. Finally, some people after 16 km on my bloody own.
I arrive in Roncevalles around 1.45pm. Logged and sello'd. Called the very worried parents and am relaxing now at a small table in front of a bar. Don't ask me where the refugio is 'cause I have no idea. No one knows and the ones who know are not telling. Promising. I seem to own the largest backpack of all which is not a good thing. Don't feel in the best of shapes and am very tired. I'm very happy I spent the night in Valcarlos beceuse there's no way in hell I would've made it over this mountain in one day. I don't see myself sleeping in the woods either. I have a Blair Witch Project trauma.
When I consider it, I made good time in all. There are a lot of pilgrims milling around here. I hear Canadian, French, Dutch, German, etc. I don't fell like making small talk so I keep to myself. It's not like I'm very social anyway. I'll be glad when the refugio opens at 4. There's a bit os sun but it remains very cold and windy. Roncevalles is absolutely tiny. There's only the monastery, 2 bar's and that's more or less it.
Well, the refugio was across the street in a chapel-like building. It contains about a 50 bunkbeds, sleeping 100 people. The room filled up pretty quickly. I was given a top bunk but realised I would probably make an amazing free-fall in the middle of the night so I switched to a bottom bunk when everyone was checked in. Phew! The showers were overrun at once and by the time I got there the water was very very cold. Oh well, took a quick dip anyway. The groin muscle is turning out to be a big problem. It hurts and I can hardly lift my foot off the ground. This means I wont be able to go very far tomorrow so I opt for 12km to Viskarret as Zubiri is at 20km from here.
The pilgrim's mass was nice and everyone got blessed. It seems I'm the only Belgian although there's someone from Luxembourg too. There are at least 95 pilgrims int the refugio and about 15 more in the hotel. The night turns out to be cold, uncomfortable and painful. Thankfully, there is entertainment to be found in the Snore concert in B minor preformed by 5 wonderful bass snores. Sigh. Earplugs don't bring relief as the chapel literally echoes with the sound. One can even hear some giggling after a tremendously beautiful solo. Oh well. After a quick on-the-road desayuno of soup, we march on brave soldiers! I left the refuge at about 8 a.m and was already one of the last ones to go. I've passed the tiny village of Burguete where we find several pilgrims having a normal breakfast. There are quite a lot of pilgrims on the road today. The weather is cool but sunny which is nice. My muscles still hurt a lot so I wont be able to go farther than Viskarret, I fear. I'm still tired but I feel well, except for the fact my face and arms are sunburned, including my ears. Sigh. Pathetic.
Well, I thought today would be calmer and flatter but there's still a lot of climbing to be done on slippery rocky paths. Wouldn't want to walk here in the rain. I plan to go to Visakarret today, Larrasoana tomorrow and Pamplona the day after. I need to catch up on some sleep and give my muscles some time to heal. The blister I got from my walk to Hunto still hurts. I hardly dare remove the Compeed.
Ofcourse mulehead here walked all the way to Zubiri. Sigh. Am kaputski. Very kaputski. 22km! Only reason I didn't stop in V. was because I couldn't find the bloody hotel. So, I bought some lunch there and rested half an hour before moving on. The path to Zubiri was very heavy especially the last 5-6km or so. We went relatively steeply downhill on a a terrible rocky path made of shark's teeth and dragon's back's. The poor little feet suffered today. Tomorrow I'll do 18km to Trinidad de Arre, depending on how I turn out in the morning. Will have to fill up on painkillers. I've already used up several meters of surgical tape to keep my feet together. Ridiculous.
Got my sello from the dismal-looking refugio (wouldn't stay there for the world!) and had some dinner. I'm staying at a rather expensive hotel, but it's worth the price to have a large bed in a silent room. And a hot clean shower. Mom called again, meaning I must've sounded very near death when I called home earlier. I'll just take an early night and hope I feel better in the morning. I made it to Trinidad de Arre at about 2.15pm. I was havning doubts I'd ever get there since the Lozano Guide sent me in the wrong direction with a false promise of an easier road. I ended up in Huarte whiwh was about 2.5km out of my way on the wrong side of the hill. Mon oeuil, 2 roads. Bon, I found it in the end but taking the scenic route over a hill at noon was Not Fun. I found it in the end. Am all alone here for the moment. I suppose a lot of people did the extra 5.5km to Pamplona but I'm too tired to go on. My plantillos hurt a lot. In the beginning the path was fairly hellish as we had to pass through a large wasteland made by a pumice stone (i think) factory. yergh. Met a young german woman along the road , Irmi, who was having a lot of problems with her feet and didn't know if she would make it today.
I'm starting to get tired of the mountains. My body is not used to the effort yet, I suppose. The weather today was quite excellent, cool but sunny. The views along the way are stunning to say the least. I saw some great big birds floating above me. Black with white round markings on the tips of the wings. Saw a lot of smaller birds also: sparrows, finches and tits. There are a lot of onsects so it's not very surprising. Not many blackbirds and pigeons though. It's wonderful to walk amidst the noise of the feathered violence and the chirps of multitudes of crickets and grasshoppers. The variety of flowers is simply overwhelming. Along the road grows some bright-yellow flowery herb mixed with violently red poppies and small purple and blue forget-me-not's. cute. It's a shame I can't enjoy it a full 100% but I have to concentrate on the road and on walking on and on. This will change once I get used to walking and the weight of the backpack. I'm looking forward to the Meseta and kilometres of flat terrain.
Had to buy a new roll of surgical tape. Must've used 5m at least, but there's always a new spot on my feet to cover. The refugio, though it didn't look like much on the outside, turned out quite nice on the inside. Was able to take a hot shower which is the most important thing for a pilgrim and am trying to cook some hot dinner on a relatively workable stove, fishsticks and peas, mmmmmm. Irmi, ther german woman, made it here too. Great! She's very friendly and I hope I'll see her some more later on (I'll lose sight of her after Pamplona though). There are a few more people I recognise like Daphne from Canada whom I saw first in Roncevalles; but as I'm going quite slow that wont last long. After a stroll through Trinidad de Arre, everybody crawls in bed relatively early. Only to be woken in the middle of the night by a gent who needs to use the bathroom and doing so, turns on the lights in the sleeping area. Murdereous mutters are reported. Bad day for me. Walked the 5km to Pamplona and managed to get another 4 blisters on 2 toes. No mail waiting for me. Hate the city. Will be glad to go on tomorrow. Am depressed and over-tired. It's raining and I'm cold. The refugio doesn't open till 2, so I look for a hotel. I manage to find one after walking aimlessly and without plan for about an hour. Shower is cold and I feel miserable. Could go home just like that. I managed to mail my sister, my friend and my colleague and bought some stamps. Can't find a shop to buy some food and don't want to go eat in a bar. pfff. I shoulda gone on to Cizur Menor but my feet were killing me. Feel like crap. After my small breakdown yesterday, I feel a lot better today. Mom called twice and my sister once yesterday, so I guess the family must've been kinda panicked. I really felt awful yesterday, I suppose I was somewhat exhaustde. Had a nice long sleep and decided to go only to Cizur Menor today. Short day, time to rest up further. I've got all the time in the world anyway. Am waiting for the refugio to open while sitting in a little shaded front garden. Absolutely bloody marvellous here. Will go to Puenta La Reina tomorrow but wont take the detour to Eunate, so it will be around 18-19km. I will have to cross the Alto de Perdon with the windmills and that's a big climb again. Thankfully the groin muscle I pulled the second day seems to have healed up. On the other hand, the four blisters I picked up yesterday are very painfully located on my small toes: one up and one under (I don't know it yet, but these will plague me off and on for the rest of the trip). The only thing left to heal are my footsoles and my calfs and I'll be a happy girl.
As I was starving, I gathered my courage together and went to eat in one of the two local restaurants. Trouble is the village kids are having theu First Communion and family is celebrating all over the place so I had to wait quite a bit before I got a table. But having money and puppy-eyes, I got seated in a relatively calm corner of the room. Much noise and cigarette smoke. I ate some muy delicious 'Chorizo en las cidres', which is basically chorizo sausage in a hot cider sauce and it turns out to be one of the best things I've ever eaten. As a main course I devoured a humongeous piece of grilled beef sprinkled with seasalt with fries. Man, I needed that. Quel délice! Wonderful food.
I met up with Daphne the canadian again and a few other people I'd seen before. Irmi stayed an extra day in Pamplona to let her feet heal up. Other than sitting around, nobody does much the rest of the day. Left Cizur Menor around 7 A.M. as the climb to Alto de Perdon looked heavy. I'm having a horrible time getting going. My muscles and joints ache and I don't seem to be moving very quickly. Damn that wine! I still make good time though until the climb begins. Wow. I've been seeing the windmills since Pamplona but it's something else climbing up to them.
A dutchman passing me asks worriedly if I'm OK. No, I'm really not having a heart-attack, I always look like this climbing up a steep hill. The heart is not an issue but my knee is loudly protesting. I'm just glad my groin muscle doesn't give a peep. 45 minutes to climb up, not too bad I'd say. It's quite cold and windy up the Alto. I take a quick picture of the iron pilgrim statues braving the wind. Aha! John, the camper guy is here, selling a measly cup of coffee for 2€, it's worth 50€ to me. I enjoy the bad coffee with a cookie and rest a bit underneath a windmill. They're huge and and make a very distinct sound as the wings slash the air. Behind me lies the entire valley I walked through with Pamplona in the distance, before me lies the valley I still have to do. A line of small villages dot the way. Pretty.
Daphne (the canadian lady) and I are the last ones to leave the Alto. The descent is not easy as it is pretty steep and over loose round stones. The walk to Uterga is turning out beautiful, on a dirt path through fields covered with blood-red poppies. A large hawk-like bird soars above me, circling for a mouse dumb enough to venture out. It's starting to become pretty hot by the time I get to Muzarabal. Only 5km to Puenta La Reina. I'm resting on a little bench under a flowered tree that attracts the most gigantic black bees I've ever seen. Did I mention I'm an entomophobe?
After a quick drone-accompanied rest, I walk on. a nice old gentleman in wishes me a 'Buen Viaje' and I suspect he talks on about the weather but as I'm spanish-illiterate I must say gracias and move on. It's getting hotter by the minute and I guzzle luke-warm water by the liter. I didn't bring anything very edible except for a packet of Oreo's which I devour.
Obanos is a slightly larger village and there's lots of people out. Ofcourse, it's sunday and mass just ended. Children muck up their sunday clothing playing in the streets. I have to say that I'm losing sense of weekdays, I just look at kilometres and destinations. A bunch of bus tourists is let loose in the village square and it seems they're going to walk the last 1.5 kilometres to Puenta La Reina with me. Sigh. My feet hurt and the sun beats down and those stupid trees are spewing five matrasses worth of fluff over the fields. Ha-CHOO! (If anyone can tell me what trees these are, please mail me.)
I finally arrive in Puenta La Reina and pass the first refugio. My guide announces a second more modern refugio was built on the other side of the town. The walk through the shadowed Calle Mayor is delightful. The Puente del Peregrino is pretty impressive. I cross it and only 300m to the refugio...in the sun...at 2 PM....uphill...after 18km. Boohoo. But it's worth it. Only a few people are here for the moment so I have my choice of beds (bottom bunk!) and an unused clean hot shower. Happy Sigh. I decide not to waste my euros on the washing machines but get used to handwashing. Yerk, everything is so dusty and dirty.
I know I should visit the town but I'm not really in the mood. my energy level is pretty low and it's too damn hot anyway. Also, the nice cool shaded terrace and the cold Coke have a hold on me. I didn't walk to Eunate in the end as it added another 2km and that's too much. I'm still getting used to the whole walking thing. I believe I'll go on to Estella tomorrow unless I find a small casa in Lorca. The guide draws several question marks to that possibility. We'll see.
Now, I understand why no one goes out between 12 and 5PM. Too bloody hot! No use going in the town now as everything will be closed anyway. I may rest a day in Estella as there is much to see? The trouble is that it's hard to get going again after a day of rest. As I want to avoid a similar noon heat, I'll have to leave pretty early tomorrow morning. It promises if the Meseta will be as hot as here. And to think 10 days ago, it snowed at Cebreiro.
I finally removed the Compeed from the blister fromm hell and it's looking OK, no signs of infection but it's kinda raw so I'm letting it dry in the sun. I must say that the surgical tape in Spain is pretty damn persistant, I had to use disinfectant to get the glue off my toes.
The gentleman are doing their little wash also. Inhibitions are a bit lost here but that's normal. You sleep with dozens in the same rooms, walk together, sweat together, stand in line for the shower together, eat together, do your washing together and hang your underpants on the same line to dry. As long as everyhting is cleanish and dry, that's all that seems to matter. As I'm resting, I have a talk with a fascinating german-canadian older couple walking the camino too. They've travelled to India, ibet, climbed Kilimanjaro, hiked the AT, etc. I hope I can grow old like they do. OK, that was hell. Apparantly, the road out of Puenta La Reina is being redone and we were led into some kind of australian outback that went uphill, all the time. Nearly did me in. I'm resting right now on a bench in Maneru, contemplating the birds.
16h34. My god, it was heavy today. I didn't manage to get ot Estella but found a brand-new refugio in Villatuerta. I've now completely lost the group I started out with unfortunately. I've also lost my towel. It's still swinging merrily from the line in Puenta La Reina. It's good I brought my large cotton egyptian shawl, it will double as a towel now. But man, it was heavy today. The muscles were ok but the feet were against all movement today. I even had to walk on my sandals for a bit after Cirauqui but that only helped a litlle bit. Will have to rest up a day in Estella, I fear. Today's walk was quite beautiful for the rest, dirth paths through some wonderful fields, a lot of birds, old roman bridges etc. Nice. The last kilometres to Villatuerte were very hard but quite nice through the green wheat fields.
Well, I've done the first 100km, only 650 more to go. I think I'll have to start slowing down a little. Better to go slow now and get there then pull a muscle and go home.
Villatuerta stinks. Literally. I think there might be a garbase dump around here somewhere as I've noticed several garbage trucks heading purposefully in a certain direction. Oh well, I wont be sad to leave here even though I was very happy finding this place. The only other pilgrim here for the moment is an older Irish man who goes slower than me. It's really a very dead place, but I managed to find a small bar where I got a delicious bocadillo con tortilla. Yay.
No, today wasn't really a good day. It turned very hot already around 9am and then it just got worse. There was a small breeze which saved me from keeling over, but still, the ups and downs of the road didn't help. I was done in by the road works this morning. I would've stopped in Lorca, but the doubtful pension was indeed no more as the lady who kept it has fallen ill. I rested half an hour on the plaza mayor (tiny) with a number of other pilgrims, all eating our sadwiches and enjoying the cold cold fountain water.
I suspect it will rain tonight. I arrived in Estella around 8.35 and rested up a bit at the Santo Sepulchro church, which is the first one on entering the town. It's a beautiful Romanesque church with a magnificent portal and very much closed.
I didn't like the walk from Villatuerta to here as it passed two stinky factories and a couple of aggressively barking dogs of which I wasn't sure if they were chained or roaming free. Brrr.
I feel very tired today as I didn't really sleep well last night. Even earplugs couldn't block the irish man snoring a bed away. I need a day's rest.
I booked a room in a little pension on the Plaza de Santiago (appropriate no?) for 2 nights, shared bathroom for 13€. Great! I've eaten lunch but I don't think I'll be doing much for the rest of the day as I'm really beat. I really don't see me climbing up to Cruz de Ferro and Cebreiro in a few weeks.
I'll probably go to Los Arcos the day after tomorrow, 19km seems do-able. If not, I can always say at Villamayor de Monjardin where there is a dutch refuge. I do so hope the weather wont get hotter, or wetter for that matter. It's perfect now the way it is. It's a shame that I lost the entire group of people now with whom I've been walking for the last few days. But that happens when you walk a lot slower than the rest. It's not a race of course and I'd like to enjoy the walk without dropping dead or destroying my feet. I still have a lot of kms to do and my tempo is good enough for me. If I'd go faster, I'd have to rest up every couple of days and that's not the point either.

Like in every village or town there are swallows everywhere, ofcourse there are a lot of insects also. This is really a country of birds, snails, ants and big bugs. Big scary beetle-bugs. Brrr. Not to mention those horrible grey millipedes. yuck.
Election day is the 25th of May, the feelings seem to be getting heated as there seems to have been a protest yesterday. There are pamflets and graffiti everywhere. The ayuntamiento doors have been sprayed with the word 'fascistas' and several governmental buildings have been egged. I hope I won't be in any town ir city on that day. I foresee big trouble. On a sadder note, in belgium the flemish blok, our local extreme--right party has become the largest flemish party in brussels. Sigh. Another black day. I'm glad to be far from the news at this time. I'd rather not know.
I probably should've learned some spanish before I came. I'm doing okay but it's not always easy.
This walking alone is also bringing up a lot of emotions. They're really à fleur de peau, it's rather disconcerting.

After a shower, I visited the beautiful roman cloister wher you can see the twisted pillar in the garden. The church attached to it is quite stunning, very calming and peaceful. The absis is perfectly symmetrical and decoratde wit a very original pillar made to represent coiled snakes. I joined the small mass and got blessed once again.

I went to the Post Office and again, no mail. Argh! I sent it out more than two weeks in advance!
I walked/climbed up to the San Miguel church today to view the stunning roman fronton. The church itself is closed unfortunately but the statues are outside anyway, protected against the rain by a overhang which is a good thing seeing that some statues have been literally rained away over the centuries. No one is around except a very wary cat and I take all the time I need to take pictures and stare. The statues are really exquisite, the faces are very fine and wear beatific expressions. Lovely.
I haven't done much else today I'm afraid. I wandered around looking for a bookstore selling english books, but no luck. Sigh. I guess I'll just ave to reread the book I picked up in Trinidad de Arre for the 10th time. Maybe I'll learn it by heart.
I'm doubting that I'll be able to make it Los Arcos tomorrow. That's the trouble with resting up, the body is quickly unused to walking again. I guess I'll have to drag myself forwards tomorrow. After 2 hours walking I arrived in Azqueta. It's hard to get going as I expected. The muscles in my right leg hurt a lot specifically in the thigh area. It's getting hot already at 10 A.M. en except a few cyclists, I haven't seen many people on the road.
I arrived in Los Arcos at 2.15 in the afternoon, meaning I walked two hours in the hottest part of the day. And hot it was, scorching even. I took a bed in the Belgian Albergue and had a nice hot shower in a clean bathroom. Ah, Bliss. I still walked faster than I expected as I covered the 20km in about 6 hours. The walk to Villamayor de Monjardin was very up and down while the part to Los Arcos was relatively flat. Ofcourse, the flat part gave no shadow on a blistering white gravel path. I'm not over-tired, which is nice and I'm happy to be walking again. I was glad to get here but I believe that if I had rested half an hour along the way, I might have gone farther today.
It's nice to hear flemish people again after 10 days of spanish, although the first thing the hospitalero told me was 'Uwe rugzak weegt te veel' Ypur backpack is too heavy. Yes, I know.
Cooked myself some spagetthi with bread and tuna which I yummed up and I even have some baguette left. Tomorrow I'll probably walk the 18.5km to Viana. I don't think it'll be a problem as my muscles held out well enough after a good painkiller this morning.
In the mean time, the first burro peregrino has stopped by. His name is Igor and is owned by a very friendly french gentleman.
The church in Los Arcos is very odd. First of all, it dwarfs the village and secondly it's a camp nightmare on the inside. A prime example of barok Horror Vacui. Every square centimetre is decorated, painted, inscised, sculpted, etc. and it's gold as far as the eye can see. I follow my third mass in 10 days which start vith vespers and the rota of the Holy Sacrament. The pilgrim's blessing was quite emotional and I've come to the conclusion that I no longer know the Hail Mary by heart. Tsk tsk tsk.

Ugh, the little monsters on my toes aren't healing. They shouldn't be there, my shoe doesn't even rub against my toes on that place. Every morning they look better and every evening they're like 4 little bubonic plague sores. Argh. Just try to tape up two small toes.

I'm alive! I'M ALIIIVE!
It was HOT today, atrociously so and at 3.20 in the afternoon I measure 30°C in the shadow. Thank God, what I feared was Viana in the very far away distance turned out to be Logroño, meaning Viana was closer than I expected. Not that it made that much of a difference considering I have a new blister. Yay. Tha walk itself was quite beautiful today, past green wheatfields dotted with colorful pockets of poppies, yellow cabbage flowers (I don't know), purple heath and tiny blue and pink flowers. The air was filled with all kind of finches and tits,noisy as usual. I met quite a number of bugs along the way also, milipedes, big black beetles, small red beetles, whole armies of ants, ladybugs, dozens of very loving spiders and butterflies in all colors. Fascinating to watch this fauna and flora.
The road went up and down quite a lot today and as there was no shadow at all, it was hard going. I had to rest quite a lot and my feet are decidedly unhappy. Torred del Rio was a very pretty small village with a church in Eunate style. Attached to it ther was a bell that could be sounded during storms to lead the pilgrims in the right direction. Ofcourse I lost my way somewhere after Torres and tracked about a km in the fields before I realised I hadn't seen an arrow or pilgrim in ages. So, I backtracked, grumbling. There were more pilgrims today, I met a nice german man who was worried I'd drop dead and I saw four people with a dog.
The church in Viana is a very bizarre combination of several different styles, it looks a bit like gothified romanesque with a gigantic (ugly) renaissance fronton that is suffering from erosion and dilapidation. And again, the church dwarfs the village. Unfortunately (for me) there's a lot of building and restoring going on in Viana, which means I can't get a clear picture of one of the narrow pictureque streets.
I thought I was behind Igor the Burro today as I kept following a trail of donkey dung (that was...ehm...different) but no, it must've been another donkey as Igor is walking up the street just now. Such a cutie. The owner is trying to find a place to camp out, but as the hospitalero speaks no french and Igor's owner speaks no english, I'm asked to translate. Apparantly, it's hard for him to find camping spots every day, not to say anything of stopping along the way to get a drink or to go buy some food. As soon as he ties Igor up to a tree or something in a village, he's told that donkeys aren't welcome. Poor Igor.
The refuge itself is not of the pleasentest, especially the dining room is quite dark and morbid. On top of that, I was assigned the top bunk in a three storey bed. EEP! I'm 2.5m from the floor. I foresee very little sleep tonight.
As I sit waiting for the church to open, two storks come wheeling over. Que monstroso! I've seen already two stork nests and I realise this is gonna become my favourite part of the camino. I'll try to take pictures of every stork's nest I will pass.
The mass was very short today but the church had some very fine retablos and paintings, including a half-naked Mary Magdalen and a strange painting of the crucified Christ. I'd love to have that iconography explained to me.
I've calculated the weight of my backpack to be about 12.5kg without the water. With water, it must be around 14.5 kg. Way too much. I'm trying to figure out what I could leave behind or send back home, but I'm still not sure of what I might need further on. And again, no mail. Boohooohooooo! Well, there might be mail but as I got to the Post Office exactly two minutes after closing time, I'll never know. Considering it's also sunday tomorrow and I'm not planning to stick around till monday on the off chance there just might perhaps be a letter. Very frustrating. I don't like cities. They depress me every time I walk into them even though this one is more pleasant than Pamplona, it's just as wet. I only walked about 10km today but I'm tired, wet and cranky so I stop here for today. I slept very badly as expected, the mattress was very bumpy and the idea of an amazing nightly plunge into the depths woke me up every half hour or so. Meaning, I'm a mess who needs a hotel room.
As it didn't stop raining from Viana to Logroño, I reenacted the Ghost of the Opera in Blue...I wrestled in my gigantic blue rain poncho with backpack extension, something which scared the bejeesus out of poor Igor who passed me later on. It was cold and windy today and I, once again, managed to take a wrong turn and head out into the fields. It took about a km before it dawned on my distracted mind that 1. I hadn't seen Igor in ages 2. there were no pilgrim-like footprints in the mud 3.I hadn't seen an arrow in a while. Sigh. The walk to Logroño was not very pleasant as it leat through an area of light industry and past, under and over highways. There was nowhere a place to sit down unless you wanted to sit in the mud by the side of the road. The corpoarations we passed should invest in benches for the pilgrims, seems like good PR to me.
The fun thing about the rain was that suddenly the snails were having a party, dozens of snails started crossing the path carrying their little white shells.
I stopped at Felisa's house where the 6 dogs tied up there (not very welcoming) exploded in paroxysms of rage at seeing poor poor Igor. Felisa unfortunately died a few months earlier and it's her daughter who gives out the sello now.
We amble on, the blue spook first followed by Igor about a 100m behind. As it stopped raining, I finally wrestle out of the poncho, only to have it start up again 10 minutes later. Sigh. I arrive in Logroño around 10. Unfortunately the refugio only opens at 2.30, meaning I either have to hang around for that time or I book a hotel. I need a night of uninterrupted sleep, lying no more than 50 cms from the floor. Hotel it is. I wander around a little and find a hotel a bit off the Plaza de Mercaderos. It's a bit expensive at 55€ but it includes a large private bathroom. I do some laundry and decorate the room with drying clothes.
Logroño is a nice city with small back streets where outside of the tiny bars, people guzzle Rioja and enjoy fried garlicy calamares. The smell is delicious.
The sky cleared up a little after an hour or so and I managed to visit a little of the older sections of the city without getting sopping wet. I count no less than 5 storks nests on the tower of the La Redonda cathedral. I assume it must damage the architecture but no one seems to mind.
Later at night, Belgium loses the Eurovision Songfestival by one point from Turkey. Many sms's are exchanged. After a seemingly endless walk through the park I finally manage to leave Logroño. The park was very nice and all but so humongeous and filled with early-morning strollers and joggers.
I arrived in Navarette around 1.25 in the afternoon. I had a lot of trouble today, emotionally as well as physically. The walk today was quite nice actually, starting out with a kilometre or two of jogging course, then through the park, past an artificial lake where men were fishing. As it's sunday today, lots of families are out even though the weather is not brilliant. After the park, a quick climb on a gravel path through a field of flowered thistles. Past a large pile of goat dung (?!) and descending past a lumberyard where there was a Blair Witch Project thing happening. The chickenwire next to the factory has been decorated with hundreds of little crosses fabricated out of scraps of wood, pieces of wire, shoelaces, etc. Very odd.
After crossing the highway, passing the ruins of the original medieval albergue and the usual climb up into the village, I get to the albergue. Oh joy, all persons coming from Logroño can only ask for a bed after 4 PM. People coming from further away get priority. Great.
I must've looked like death warmed over as everyone seems concerned about me and the hospitalero lets me have a bed even though I'm only from Logroño. I'm not the only person who is an emotional wreck today as a girl arrives at the albergue and starts crying as soon as she sits down. I really do feel horrible today. The albergue quickly fills up and I share the room with a large group of very nice french people.
Navarete looks like a very nice small medieval village with - as always - a disproportionate church which contains an overwhelming gold altarpiece. The Rubens retablo that normally hangs here has been (temporarily?) moved to a museum, altough they left a life-size picture. I'm not too bummed about it as I saw this painting a few years ago when it came to Brussels for an exposition of Flemish Primitives along the Spanish Camino. I do have to say that the Mater Dolorosa is quite creepy. The pilgrims all quickly leave the church when a funeral starts.
I call home and realise why I've been a mess all day long, my grandmother died this morning. It's not entirely unexpected as she'd been quite ill these last months or so, but it's still a blow especially when you're so far away from home. It's 3 PM, I'm in Najera and I just sat down to eat. Spagetthi Carbonara, yum.
Today's walk went relatively fast and I arrived here quite early but, considering the refuge is nearly full, I don't mind. It was a bit cold and windy today and it kept threatening to rain which means I walked a third of the way in Blue Spook outfit. The beggining was a bit hard as we had to walk on a gravel path next to the highway, not including the point where we had to climb down a mudhole where the road had washed away. As soon as we moved away from the highway, the trail led us through the endless Rioja vineyards where an entire troll city had been built out of stone piles. I had to rest up quite a lot along the way as my feet hurt a lot today. After a small climb up to the Pojo de Roldan and a small descent past a gravel factory, we passed the Poema di Camino where I contemplated a little.
Najera is surrounded by red rockformations which add a strange aspect to it. The fortress like church Santa Maria de la Réal is built out of the same material. Unfortunately it's closed on a monday so I don't get to visit it. The museum remains hermetically locked too.
As agreed with my family, I won't be going home for my grandmother's funeral. If I did, I don't think I'd return to the camino afterwards. Apparantly my entire family is telling my parents to tell me I should keep walking. So, I will. Today was the 21km to Santo Domingo de la Calzada. A lot of people gotup to leave at 5.15 in the morning, as the refuge last night was packed (over 60 people) I guess everyone wanted to get there bright and early to be sure of a bed. I stay put until 6 AM before rolling out of bed also. As there is a long line at the bathroom, I still have to put in my contacts and my sleeping bag is unwilling to be rolled up, I only leave around 7.20. But Dramatis Dramatiae! My walking stick has disappeared, probably taken by another pilgrim as whe had to assemble all sticks below the night before. Boohoo! Luckily enough, the person who took my stick, left behind his/hers. Unfortunately, it's heavier and a bit longer, meaning I'll have to adapt my rythm. I miss my little buddy, I even marked it. Sigh.
Leaving Najera is done up-hill most of the time through a pine forest part of the way and then on through wheat and grape fields caught between beautiful red rock formations. I left quickly to Azofra where I arrived about an hour later, meaning I walked the 5.5km way too fast. I stopped for about 2 minutes and re-filled my bottle at the fuente and I was up and at it again. This didn't last long. I still manage to pass the large, imposing, mysterious rollo outside of Azofra but 500m further pwaa pwaaa pwaaaaa break-dowm. No surprise. It wasn't an easy road anyway but consisted of a gritpath alongside the carrettera, which kills the feet. Luckily enough there are some concrete 'things' lying around next to a field so I rested a bit before being almost knocked over by a spraying tractor in the field.Imagine something like this but bigger. After 15 minutes walking I'm out again. Oh boy. I knock back a couple of nurofen and spring into action once more. The muscles were doing fine, but the feet weren't happy at all.
The path meanders through wheatfields to what looks like a horrible hill. It IS a horrible hill. Oh well, what must be done, must be done and I start my slow ascent, followed closely by an older austrian lady who is having difficulties also. Thankfully, it's not blistering hot today. I zigzag while I climb up as it's easier on my legs that way and after a lot of huffing and puffing, I get to the top. At another grit factory, I rest up a bit. I figure I should be between the villages of Ciruena and Ciruenela, meaning I took the long way round and added extra km's to the walk. I go on, blubbering a bit because my body hurts and I still have 6 km to go. The road leads me past a strange walled cemetary lying between the two small villages. I cross the carrettera and I spy with my little eye another concrete marker where I plan to rest a few minutes. Just I'm sitting down, I leap up again with the first girly scream in two weeks when the biggest spider of Spain scrambles from under the concrete ledge. Luckily, the few pilgrims on the road were already too far away to hear me. Snort. I'm chased off anyway a few mintues later by an entire army of ants who seem to have taken umbrage at my sitting there. Alright then.
I walk on through fields, fields as far as the eye can see. Trully stunning. Entire armies of ants cross the road in columns of five six centimetres wide, leaving small but clear grooves into the road. Incredible. I speed up a little again as I'm feeling a bit better and after a small climb I find myself on the edge of a valley, covered in green fields with the hills far off. It's really a beautiful site. I guess it must all look a lot deader in the summer when all the grain has turned yellow and dry but for now it's still all green and full of life. Jacques Clouteau wrote in his book, that he found no birds here but I hear enough 'prueet prueet' to the contrary. Ofcourse there are still a lot of bugs around also.
Even though the footsoles burn, I walk on. Too fast. The road goes up and down and then Halleluia! Santo Domingo only 1.5km away. I set my brain to zero and march on. The last km seems endless. It's as if the town is not getting any closer but finally I walk off the grit unto a paved road and into the outskirts of the small town. I moan on and finally reach the still half-empty refugio, meaning all my hurrying was uneccessary. Sigh. Sello, donativo and rest. I meet up with a few people I met along the way including a very nice Italian gentleman. The rooms are not overly pleasant but there are only normal beds, meaning I wont have to climb up to a top bunk as usual. I take a quick shower, do some laundry and go for lunch. Bar Los Arca has a menu del peregrino at 7.75€, canneloni, steak and french fries, bread and vino tinto and The Simpsons in spanish on TV. And how sad is it that I virtually know these episodes by heart? As I get a whole bottle of vino for myself, I'm a little careless and throw back a glass or three or four meaning I walk out of the bar a bish drunk. Jush a bish. I deserved it.
I make a quick call home where my father rails at me for having walked too fast and then I go read in the plaza next to the church, enjoying the sun. It's bloody hot here.
When the church and museum finally opens at 5 pm, I jump to it. Unfortunately, photographs are not allowed, meaning I buy about two dozen postcards. Oh well. It's a shame really, as there were absolutely stunning photographs I would have liked pictures of. The cathedral is very large and gothic built on a roman base. The crypt with Santo Domingo's grave had some leftovers of roman polychromic stone sculpture. What stopped me for a moment in the crypt were some oddish circle-shaped marking on the floor of a heavy object (probably a candelabra) that must've been moved hundreds of times.
The chicken coop was kind of funny although the chicken seemed a bit stressed out. A stowaway sparrow gorged itself on the grain in the coop and profited from the tradition. I also looked quite a long while at a marvellous St Veronica and a truly (u)stunning(/u) Flemish Primitive of the annunciation which I had already seen in Brussels on a lend-out once. In the Claustrum, where all the treasures are displayed, was a strange large wooden christ on the cross of the 12th century with a truly beatific and serene face. The cathedral is beautiful and peaceful but not quiet due to the large amounts of tourists. My first stop is in Grañon around 9.30am for a cafe solo and a technical break. The road leading to here has been made right next to the highway, except for a little useless detour of 3 km over a hill. We pass the Cruz de las Valientes which memorizes an auta-da-fe between Grañon and Santo Domingo, which was rather cool. I visit the tiny church which oddly enough makes me think of my grandfather who passed away almost 10 years ago. Hm.
About an hour later, I cross over into the Province of Burgos, meaning I've done almost a third of the way. It's a shame there are no yellow arrows in real life to lead you.
I stop today's walk around 12.30 in Redecilla de Camino, which is tiny village smeared out along a busy road where heavy trucks thunder past by the dozens. The walk to here was not specifically interesting but that's partly because I'm tired and my feet hurt a lot. I realise that I overdid it yesterday and swear that it's the one and only time I'll rush just to make sure I have a bed. The refugio here is small, clean and privately owned with very clean showers and a teeny tiny kitchenette. There is a equally tiny shop annex bar where I buy some soup and yoghurt for lunch.
The church is not very interesting although it has a stunning baptismal font. The visit is made rather unpleasant because the church warden keeps following me, making sure I won't steal candlesticks and the two ton font. No thanks, my backpack is heavy enough. Grr.
As in every village, it's literally teeming with swallows and sparrows and there is never really a second without 'tsjilping', which is nice. It was very hot today and there was almost no wind so I'm glad I got to stop early. I passed three young people with a donkey a bit earlier which was nice also. I arrived quite early in Belorado, the end of my second small daywalk. It wasn't an easy walk though as it was once again on the foot-destroying grit along the carretera. The road wound through three micro-villages: Casteldelgado, Villoria de Rioja and the village of three lies: Villamayor del Rio. The name means Large City on the River but translates to micro-village on the brook. Snort. The first 7 km went quite easily, but the last five were pretty painful and hot. As soon as I arrived in Belorado, I headed to a nice cafe on the charming PLaza Mayor for coffee and croissants. Yummy. I'd probably be able to go on adfter an hour's rest or so but everything has been precisely calculated. Also, my feet might spontaneously amputate themselves out of protest. Ahum.
I plan one more small leg to Villafranca Montes de Oca which is about 12km and then two long legs of around 20 km each to Atapuerca and Burgos. That will be hard enough, no need to push on madly now. I'll probably take a day off in Burgos also as there is a lot to see and I want to pick up my mail (HA HA HA).
The Belorado refuge is right next to a stork-populated beautiful church. The largest nest has young which clap their beaks to get the parents attention, very cool. Sparrows and swallows sublet the lower parts of the nests so it's a real sight to see.
I met two young men from San Diego, CJ and Gary with whom I've had somewhat of a talk. There are quite a few americans on the road.
As it's extremely hot today, no one moves much except from shade to shade. It's really a very pleasant village. I arrived again very early in Villafrance Montes de Oca even though I didn't hurry at all. It got really hot as from 10 AM anyway. My feet are doing a bit better today so I hope they'll hold out till Atapuerca tomorrow.
Montes de Oca is not a very nice village as it consists basicaly of one very busy street with two rows of houses flanking it. It has one hotel aneex restaurant annex bar, one bar annex shop and the funniest refugio I'll sleep in on my entire trip.
The restaurant fare was rather plain but consisted of an excellent lentil-cauliflower-chorizo casserole and chicken with the ubiquitous french fries. Yum.
Entering the village was an adventure in itself as apprantly some bees had escaped the truck they were being transported it and they started swarming towards me. (I think I already mentionned I'm a bit of an entomophobe). A lady beekeeper immediatly stormed towards me, telling me to cover my face and spraying me with clouds of smoke. She accompanied me about 300m, smoking me all the while, until I was out of bee reach and ferocity. Okay, that was creepy.
The refugio is in an old abandoned school and is very very very basic. Very. But, it still filled up quite quickly and I again meet up with the austrian lady I met first on the hill before Santo Domingo. She's having quite some trouble with her knees. The school in which we stay has been abandoned as there are only 7 children left in the village and they all go to school somewhere else. Kinda sad.
It looks like rain tonight which will be nice as it'll cool everything down a bit but it also means we'll be ankle-deep in the mud tomorrow. We already had to jump from stone to stone on some parts of the road. I again walked through three dead villages: Tosantos, Villambista and Espinosa de Camino. I rested up about twenty minutes in the last two villages and didn't see a living thing in either. It's odd passing through a village that looks deserted, knowing people still live there. I arrived in San Juan de Ortega after about three hours streneous walking and took the chance to rest a bit by the fuente before going on. The road to here started out with a steep climb up to the alto which was covered with heath, small firs and brambles. Very very beautiful. The road then led on, after a very steep descent and even steeper climb through a large imposing conifer forest. As the markings were pretty sparse in there I feared I had missed a turn off and had to track back a kilometer before finding the arrow which told me I had been in the right direction the entire time. Sigh.
Rather frightening moment, when I turned a curve in the road, I almost bumped into a man loading a shotgun, a hunter ofcourse, but I tell you, meeting a guy with a gun in the middle of a dark deserted forest is rather an EEP experience.
After a while the road opened up and led down to the tiny hamlet of San Juan, which was a very nice view. I visited the church which was very plain and peaceful before walking on to Atapuerca. As long as the road led through the woods, it was very nice but as soon as it led out on the tarmac, it was hell indeed. On top of everything, I kept missing the arrow to the refugio in Atapuerca, meaning I wandered around in the noon heat for half an hour longer than needed before finding the albergue. I fell on my bed and napped for a good hour before showering and lunching. It was too hot today.
As soon as it cooled off a little, I went to sit by the closed old church and enjoyed the world.
Sometimes, when I look at the wide wide open land, I can't believe I walked all that. It's empowering, but frightening. My entire body hurts and is tires but it's so worth it, whatever 'it' is.
As I sit on that bench in Atapuerca, I notice it's never really quiet here. There's the constant chatter of young birds in the trees, the shrill shreeks of the parents, the high agressive buzz of a bee, the deep drone of the big black bumblebees, the very high fine hum of another sort of bee, children in the distance, someone chopping wood, the wind in the grass and trees, thunder 20km away in the mountains I crossed this morning, a plane high up in the clouds. Is this silence? The brids fly low, the air is very heavy, there will be a thunderstorm tonight.