Filling in the Blanks

From Roncesvalles to Zubiri

After leaving our extremely challenging walk over the Pyrenees, the next day was much better. We got off to a late start, around 8:00 am and spent a morning getting coffee and a coke before heading off to the next little town. The path winds its way past a sign saying 780 or so kilometers to Roncesvalles. It´s a beautiful walk through a grove of trees. We stop in the next town, Burguete, to pick up food for the day: a baguette, some meat and cheese, olives and a chocolate bar. We head off feeling sure that the day will be better than the previous one. It is. Other than some tendinitis that is starting to bother my knee, it is a beautiful day of walking. We are almost alone as most of the other pilgrims left hours before we did. The camino winds its way through farms and fields with gorgeous vistas off in the distance.

Our goal is to finish the stage in Larrasoaña 27 kilometers away. It´s a mostly downhill walk along a very narrow uneven dirt path. Trying to keep one´s balance while carrying a heavy load on the back really starts to affect the legs. Although the walk is relatively easy compared to the day before, the exertion begins to bother my knee. While we are walking along, we are passed by quite a few pilgrims, but we notice they are well-dressed and not carrying very much on their backs. One of them stops us to inquire about my leg since I am limping noticiably. I tell him that I think I have tendinitis. He explains that he is a chiropractor and masseuse and that I need to stop and rest my leg, put ice on it for 20 minutes or so and then take a rest day. He also offers to exchange backpacks with me. His, he says, weighs only 2 kilos and mine is very heavy. I thank him but do not feel comfortable letting him carry my load. He urges me to rest my leg so that I can finish the camino. He explains he is part of a group who is doing the camino but their gear is being carried by a bus and they are staying in hotels along the way. That sounds very tempting at this point but Tom and I came to have an authentic pilgrimage and his way sounds like a short-cut. But I also realize everyone´s journey is different and this is how I chose to do mine.

Because my leg is bothering me, we decide to stop for the day in Zubiri,about 5 kilometers short of our goal. The first albergue we reach is filled. We are directed to the municipal albergue a few blocks away. When we get there we are told that their beds are also full, but if we don´t mind, they have a gym with mattresses available. As I am not in the mood for walking any further and I don´t have to sleep directly on the hard floor, I am happy and greatful. We pay 4 Euros each. Our accomodations include communal showers, a place to wash and hang our clothes. As we set up our beds, we find we are joined by one of the couples we spent the night with in Roncesvalles. We say our hellos and then Tom and I head off for some food before turning in. All in all a good day.

Zubiri to Pamplona

Today´s destination is Pamplona. Once again the walk looks like a good one, mostly downhill and we head off. This time my knee is really complaining about the weight on my back and the uneven steps I am taking. However, I really want to reach Pamplona so we push on. During the day´s journey, we once again run into the chiropractor from the day before. He gently chastises me about taking care of my knee. I agree to put ice on it when we stop for lunch. Since we run into him and the group he is traveling with, he holds me to my word. After Tom drinks his soda, I take the ice out and wrap in my bandana and ice my knee. It does help and we are able to push on to Pamplona. We can feel the heat start to rise as we make our descent from the mountains. By the time we reach Pamplona, I am very hot and tired and I just want to get my backpack off and rest my legs. We search for the albergue and run into a young woman from Holland who directs us to the albergue personally. She is starting her camino tomorrow and has just arrived after a forced layover in Biarritz. Her bags were lost and she had to wait three days there for them to be found. She was anxious to get started on her journey. We checked into to a beautiful, newly refurbished albergue where we were directed to our bunk beds. Once again, we performed the evening routine of showering, washing and hanging clothes to dry and checking the feet for blisters before heading off to dinner. It was still early by Spanish standards for a meal and Tom was starving. We found a bar that had some wonderful tapas in the window. A thirst-quenching Sangria for me and a coke and Spanish hamburger (it´s topped with an egg and bacon) for Tom. Filled, we headed back to the albergue for our night´s rest.

Pamplona to Cizur Menor

Tom and I awake somewhat refreshed. Since I have never lived in a dorm, it takes some getting used to. There is a lot of noise in the night: snoring, people getting up to use the restroom, nightmares, talking etc. Thankfully, I have my Ipod Touch and I plug in my earbuds and listen to white noise all night blocking out most of the noise. People start to rise at 5:30 to start their day´s journey. Tom and I are moving a little more slowly. As a people watcher, I enjoy watching the couple next to us try to move on. I think they are Italian, but I am not sure. They are in there early 20´s and clearly not married. As she lays in the top bunk, he is loading up their backpacks. He gently and quietly urges her to rise and shine as they must get on their way. In a sweet and honey dripping voice, I can hear her high-pitched tone saying something along the lines of "I´m so tired, I can´t, I don´t want to." Again, he gently urges her to try while gently rubbing her feet. This dance of no-yes, no-yes goes on for the next 20 minutes while Tom and I are trying to pack in between the two bunk beds. Finally, the loudspeaker announces that everyone is getting kicked out in 10 minutes and his patience runs out. He barks at her to get up and in a little girl voice, she convinces him to help lift her out of the top bunk. Clearly, he is smitten enough to give in and help her. They hug and kiss and then finish packing. I do not understand what language they are speaking, but it is not necessary to understand the courting ritual that is being danced. It makes me chuckle! They are so young.

As we leave the albergue, we run into the Spanish couple we have been seeing since our first night´s arrival in Roncesvalles. They are standing next to an older couple. We say hello and ask where they are headed that day. The Spaniard, whom I find out later is named Jose Luis, explains that they met up with the English couple and they have decided to take a short day so that they can explore Pamplona and then rest their legs a little. Tom and I decide that is a good idea and ask if we can join them. They think this is a great idea since they speak no English and the other couple speaks no Spanish. Thus, an alliance is born.

From Estella to Villamayor de Monjardin

After settling down in the church in Estella, Roger and Denise and Tom and I set out to get some dinner and a very cold beer! Nothing tastes as a good as a cool beer to get rid of day´s dust in your throat. We found a lovely outdoor tavern and parked ourselves down for a bit. The city was having a fiesta (we never did determine why other than it had a medieval theme). While we were having our drinks, a marching band made up of local youngsters stopped near us, dressed in costume and began playing. It seemed a fit way to end our day. Our meal was excellent and we headed out to buy provisions for tomorrow´s walk. Unfortunately, due to celebrations, everything closed before we could doing any buying. We didn´t count on Jose Luis though. He had already set out and bought fruit, bread and meat and joined us for a quick beer before we headed up to get a well-deserved night´s sleep. However, the heat of the day permeated our room and it was very hard to get comfortable. While we were happy to have beds, our night was anything but restful. In addition to the heat, our parish room overlooked a plaza where young children had gathered to play in the evening´s cooler air. Evening in Spain means early morning so it wasn´t until about 3:oo am that things quieted down.

My alarm went off at 6:00 but there was no hurry to leave. After yesterday´s very hot walk, we decided to do a much shorter walk today. Our goal was Monjardin, some 9 kilometers away. Although the day was cloudy and cool when we awoke, it didn´t take long for the sun to start heating things up. We headed over to the albergue for coffee and toast before heading out at 8:00 for our walk. We found out that once again we were the last ones too leave. It didn´t take long for our bodies to loosen up and we started making a good pace.
Well-wishers from the village would urge us to have a ¨buen camino.¨ We arrived at our
destination at 11:00. It was great to have our walk over, but the albergue was not open yet. The gentleman in charge was still cleaning up from the night before and was heading back into Estalla to pick up provisions for the day. He would be ready to open at 2:00 but he allowed us to leave our heavy backpacks inside while we waited, where else, at the village bar! We are having a bite to eat before turning in early tomorrow. We hope to start at 5:00 tomorrow morning to beat the heat and to get to our destination some 23 kilometers away.

Update

(An update) Have not been able to blog...long days, very hot and very limited computer time. At some point will fill in with details, but here is a short update about today. difficult day...no room, no phone, hot day in Estella. We left at 5:55 am to start our 23 kilometer walk to Estella. I had a lot of knee tendinitis for the first 10K but after aspirin, a cold compress and stretches, the pain faded away. First 17 kilometers went fast...next ones nearly killed us in the heat. Tom also developed knee tendinitis...a very common problem on the camino. We stopped to buy knee braces which helped alot. Did not get into Estella until 2:40 and everything full, including hotels, hostals, pensions etc. We waited at the parish albergue to see whether there was literally room at the inn. Six of us for 7 beds inside the church but needed to wait for approval from the parish priest who was off in Pamplona trying to buy mattresses to accommodate all the pilgrims flooding the Camino this year. Finally got it. Had to shower at albergue and then walk over to parish offices for beds. Went to dinner and then tried tried to find internet, but everything shut down before we could find internet due to a medievel festival. We found computers at the parish office and then had to figure out passwords. Anyway, long story short, no skype and very old computers. Tomorrow will be a short day. Hope to find room at Monjardin, about 15 kilometers away and then we will try to stay off stages to avoid all the pilgrims. The "we" I keep referring to are our traveling companions: a thirty-something couple, Jose Luis and his wife, Maite from Valencia (Maite is actually Venezuelan) and Roger and Denise Wiltshire, a 60-something couple from Leicester (sp) in England. We started traveling together in Pamplona. I have joked that we are traveling like a mixed up herd, from the movie "Ice Age". It describes us perfectly. Jose Luis and Maite speak almost no English and Roger and Denise speak no Spanish so it has been up to me to be translator. Although much goes without because it is a lot of silly, slapstick humor. We have been laughing our way along the camino and having a great time. They told us about 400 left Roncesvalles the day we left and the day after as well. The Guardia Civil actually came in to try to deal with all the pilgrims. Hence it is crowded on the camino. Most are young and pass by like hell on wheels to get to the next albergue. The albergues in Estella closed before 12:30. We can´t keep up as fast with all the heat, even if we leave before 6:00 am. Despite all the hardships, we are having a great time. Tom is doing fantastic and having a great time with Roger, who´s humor resembles Benny Hill at times. Jose Luis is also a jokester which helps make the difficult climbs less so. We often joke that we are a traveling United Nations or that we are only imitating the leaders of the Tour de France: Contador - a Spaniard, Armstrong - an American and Wiggins - a Brit! Blisters have been at a minimum so, so far, so good! When I can find wifi, I hope to load the blog I have been keeping on my Itouch with more details about our walk and experiences. Cris www.stutler.blogspot.com

Day One

Walking Day One from St. Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles OMG as they say.  What a day!  What a nightmare!  I knew our climb would be difficult.  I watch the Tour de France.  I see them ride their bikes over the Pyrenees over the Col de Loepoder.  However nothing on tv gives you even an inkling as to how difficult it is to climb 20 kilometers over a mountain. We spent the evening before in the French town of St. Jean Pied de Port after traveling by plane, train, taxi and van from Madrid.  Our hostel was an absolutely wonderful place run by pilgrims, for pilgrims.  Tom and I enjoyed a communal meal prepared by our volunteer hosts.  We broke bread with people from around the world:  two young women from Taiwan, a gentleman from Australia, several from Germany, the Netherlands and one from Norway.  Everyone spent the evening getting to know each other and their personal stories.  Their reasons for doing the Camino were as varied as each person.  Richard, from Melbourne, was actually walking in reverse from Finnesterre, which means the end of the earth, to the Mediterranean.  He was very delightful and told some wonderful stories about his experience on the Camino going backwards. Everyone was anxious to get started early the next day as the first day is a daunting walk, 26 kilometers, 20 of which are uphill.  Tom and I left in high spirits, although a little nervous.  There is really no where around the Twin Cities to prepare for such a climb.  Our first difficulty turned out to be acclimating to the altitude.  The climb started right out of town and we were carrying fully loaded packs.  The first kilometer, Tom and I were huffing and puffing something serious.  We almost called an audible to change our plans and cab it back over the hill. But we were already an hour into our walk and we both didn´t want to retrace our steps.  If we knew how the day would end, we would have without a doubt.  After we got accustomed to the thinner air, we were able to pick up our pace.  Our self-assuredness returned and we actually felt a little smug.  Big mistake.  We were quickly disillusioned and soon disheartened.  As we climbed higher, a mist settled over the mountain.  I told Tom it would blow by and we would soon be fine.  I was wrong.  Ptretty soon, we were drenched by a downpour.  We hurried to find some shelter under a tree to cover our backpacks and ourselved.  At this point, I discovered I left my fleece jacket at the hostal.  I needed it.  The wind started picking up and with our weight on our backs, we had a difficult time walking.  I was soon drenched and cold.  There was no place to find shelter and we knew we had to keep going.  We still had some 15 kilometers to go to finish our day and there was no shelter ahead until the end.  We did not want to go back.  As we reached the top of the mountain and the border between France and Spain, the rain subsided to a drizzle but the winds still threatened to knock us off our feet.  All we could do was lower and heads and keep going.  Some school kids from a local camp were also climbing the mountain but they only had small personal backpacks and they kept passing us like little mountain goats, singing and laughing.  I was not pleased.  We kept trudging along the top of the ridge and we did take time to enjoy the most spectacular of views.  The valleys below us were emerald green dotted with pockets of white where the villages were located.  We thought that the downhill would be easier and we would make it to Roncesvalles in no time.  It was a great day for being wrong.  The rains had made the uneven trail very muddy and made footing very treacherous.  After walking that far, we did not want to risk slipping and falling.  It would have been a long way to get help if there was a serious injury.  All told, it took us 11 hours to go over the mountain and finally reach Roncesvalles at nearly 7:00 that evening.  I was wet, cold and hungry.  Our provisions for the day were long gone.  We checked in at the official office of pilgrims, only to be told the albergue (hostal) was full.  However, as they for days like the one we experienced, they had a room set aside for stragglers.  We were two of ten people that came off the mountain at that late hour.    We quickly showered to warm up and hung our wet things off to dry and then headed to the nearby bar.  They had a pilgrim´s dinner available, so we ate, drank some wine and shared stories with some of the people we had met the day before.  We then headed back to the albergue for some well deserved rest before our walk the next day. In our small room of ten, it was great to be with people, who although were strangers that morning, now had something in common that would unite them in a bond.  No one can really know how difficult our experience was except for those on the mountain that day.  Those that left early and were able to walk fast missed most of the storm.  But they were all in the other hostal, all 112 of them!   I must stress that Tom was an absolute trooper.  When I kept doubting the wisdom of my folly...he urged me on.  When he doubted the wisdom of my folly, he accepted without hesitation that at some point the day would end and tomorrow could only be better. (please excuse typos and grammar errors, I have limited computer time to type!) Cris www.stutler.blogspot.com

D-Day - Departure Day!

After all the planning and packing, the day of arrival is here. Tom and I are headed to the airport with bags in tow and a little bit of nerves along for the trip. It should take us about 24 hours of travel from our door to our arrival in Madrid. We'll rest there overnight, before heading off to Pamplona by train, taking a bus to Roncesvalles on the Spanish border and then a cabbing over the Pyrenees to St. Jean Pied du Port. If all goes according to plan, we will start our journey on Friday. As wi-fi permits, I will keep this blog updated!