Day 6: Puente de la Reina to Estella

We woke a little late this morning after the craic (and the vino) last night but we were still on the road for quarter to 7. The party was still going strong in town when we stopped in for a take away cafe con leche. We are living for the coffee stops in the morning. It is actual mental. I don´t know if it´s a placebo effect or what but it really does wonders for the humour in the morning. We took it fairly slowly today and we met up with all the people who we thought we were miles ahead of; the Portugese cyclists, the two Nihon-jin, the Spanairds and the guy from Limerick. We really tore into the first week and to be honest, we are suffering a bit. We thought we were taking it easy but we weren´t really. It doesn´t matter how fast or slow you go, everyone gets there eventually. For us the early morning really is the best time to walk though, it is my favourite anyway. The dewfall, the quiet roads and the sunrise. It´s different everyday. Plus you get in before the heat really starts taking its toll and zapping you completely. It was mild today though, even a bit overcast and cloudy. We were delighted! Haha. People are really suffering with blisters here but thankfully we aren´t at all, there are a lot of needle and thread surgeries going on... Thank you Chris and my 17 euro socks!! Estalla is a lovely little town, very old, hilly, with churches that look like they are growing out of the rocks. Walking through town you get the sensation that people have been walking though it for centuries... For some reason, it gave me a sense of how old the Camino is and that we a part of the many, many people that have passed though it. Cooking in the hostel tonight and heading to bed early. Wrecked. It was really hot today.

Day 5: Cizur Menor a Puente de la Reina

Yesterday I had a bit of a meltdown but today was my favourite day so far! Started off a bit rough, Marua didn´t get much sleep because there was a snorer beside her but the first two hours of this morning´s walk were gorgeous. We went through a wood in the dark with our headlamps and it was up into the hills, up a little path surrounded by field of cut hay or corn or something. We made it a good bit up the hill before sunrise, so we sat down in the road and watched the day coming in over Pamplona. It was spectacular, not a sinner on the road and the birds singing. Today´s walk was supposed to be tough, going up another fairly substanstial hill but after the trauma of that first day up the Pryrenees at St. Jean, nothing seems that bad :) There was a row of wind turbines going across the top of the hills and we reached the top of our particular one (named Alto de Perdon) at about 8 a.m. We took a break at the monument up there and had our usual nectarine and babybel cheese, which we seem to be living on...! A pair of French women that had been in our hostel the night before arrived not long after us and in my attempts to offer to take a picture of them at the monument, I ended up headbutting one of them as she was trying to show me which button to press! So that kept Maura entertained all the way down :) That night we stayed in Puente de la Reina and managed to swing a room with 6 bunks (all girls so not much snoring!!). There was a local festival on in the town that evening so all the locals were going around dressed completely in white with red hankerchiefs. Called into the chuch, this big beautiful Gothic sandstone thing with a huge golden alter and afterwards Maura and I stumbled into the middle of this parade thing so I decided to take a video. There were dolls and people dressed up and in the middle of my video these two characters decide to come up and beat us with this foam contraptions which is apparently tradition (?!) so the video is just me screaming and none of the parade! We went to get some fruit and the Señora in the shop told us that there would be a running of the bulls later on that evening so we were delighted. Sure, when would we ever been in such a little town and able to see something like that again. We went back to the hostel and then out of nowhere there was an almerciful storm, , thunder and lightening, rain, wind and huge hailstones! There was talk of the bull running being suspended but it went ahead and we went back to the centre of town to have a look. There were barriers up around the square and they had an area fenced off for the bulls. The shops and restaurants had gates up, the bars big enough for a person to fit through, but not a bull, just in case one of the runners had to duck out of the way. So we were there, 5 of us, and the music was blaring from the little stage they had set up, this real dramatic Spanish music, with lots of trumpeting and drums so we were getting quite into the whole thing, gettting ready to see the bulls and next things a roar went up and about 30 seconds later four, what looked like CALVES, skidded over the cobbles into the main pen. Bulls my eye!! Ah no, they weren´t that small and they had the horns and all but seriously, after that built up! We went into one of the restaurants then and had dinner, out of 5, 4 of us spoke English but we had dinner in Spanish, which was lovely. We had to stay inside then as they let the bulls and the runners out roaming the streets for an hour! Afterwards, there was a little street party and it was a bit like Timoleague festival :) Great craic. They even played a bit of Irish music. It was crazy - here we were, in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere in Spain, dancing to trad tunes out in the square!! Great night but in fairness, like the hermits we seem to be at the moment, we were back and in bed for half 10!

Day 4: Larrasoña to Cizur Menor

Maura woke me up at 5 this morning, I was glued to the bed didn´t know what was going on but I rolled out of bed anway thinking "Oh God, again? Do we really have to go walking again? For 3 and a half weeks more?" and my day pretty much continued along the same vein! We went walking with Helia, our French Canadian friend and most of the morning was through the woods. I was knackered but the girls were in good form. We stopped for a cafe con leche and on the way met Sonia and the four of us walked on to Pamplona, the city famous for the running of the bulls. We left the girls, who wanted to head on, so we did a bit of exploring, ate bad paella but delicious dulce de leche ice-cream, I bought a €20 phone and we got shampoo, which was very exciting since we had been washing our hair with shower gel for since we arrived. Better than another girl we met though, who was using the soap she used to wash clothes! Not overly impressed with Pamplona (probably because of the bad paella) we decided to walk on the Cizur Menor, a little town about 2km away. It was along the road but there were fields of sunflowers either side so it was quite nice. We stayed in a little hostel run by the Order of Malta and then we heard there was a public pool in the town so we bolted over there and spent the evening stretched out on the grass with a million Spanish kids and their mammies and daddies. It was nice to be in the middle of them though. Maura´s "pecas" (freckles) are getting a lot of attention, it is pretty funny though :) We are just SO white compared to everyone else. We went for our peregrino meal after that and hit a little thunder and lightening storm on the way back so we ran (painfully) for home! 

Day 3: Roncesvalles to Larrasoña

Started off nice and early this morning not feeling too stiff- but saying that, Maura did have a stretch off with our Japanese buddies last night. I don't know if it was that or the general coming and going/snoring in the albergue last night but she didn't get much sleep. I was unconscious but it took a little while. We started off and got directions from the local padre who was out in the plaza giving directions to lost causes like us. The first part was through an eerie little forest which was kind of freaking us out. It was pitch black and there were frogs and lizards and God knows what else rustling around the place. When we finally emerged onto the road we noticed a little plaque saying that that particular patch of forest had been infamous for witches and 9
people had been burned at the stake there. Nice... Glad we didn't know that when we were in there! The next part was through somebody's farm, the lovely morning mist, the cows and horses with their bells, the sun rising over the mountains, and us walking along (although there wasn't much talk at that hour). It was quite a pleasant walk through woodlands and fields adjacent to the Pyrenees for the next couple of hours and then we stopped for a piece of tortilla and a cafe con leche- the breakfast of champions. The rest of the way was grand, except for our legs screaming everytime there was a slight incline, which was a good bit but not a patch on yesterday. Maybe that is why the first day is so hard- so everything else pales in comparison. We got in 6 hours after we started and it was a scorcher of a day. We had lunch and got chatting to a Latvian hippy, a French Canadian and the Portuguese from the day before. We had lunch but for whatever reason, we weren't too keen on staying in Zubiri- where we stopped. Everything was very new even though the place was quite busy. It seemed a bit dull and purpose built for peregrinos. So, we decided to go onto the next stop, a mere 5km away. It's amazing how differently time moves over here. 6 hours? Shur, that flew. Another 5km won't hurt. Ooooh we were wrong!! It did hurt, but it was all worth it in the end. The first part went through some kind of industrial estate, where we think they made tar and the rest was a constant up and down. The downs are more difficult for me than the ups. I think it's my Collins knees!! They are a killer. I had a pair of my "very expensive socks" wrapped around my straps of my bag today for the shoulders. Maura's basketball ankles are ok now again. Our breaking point seems to be around 27km at the moment. The villages are really lovely, they are kept very well and there are beautiful flowers everywhere. We had a lovely evening though hanging around with 2 women from Barcelona, practicing our espanol and there was a table of about 20 of us for the peregrino meal. There were loads of languages going around the table; English, French, Spanish, Polish, Italian... The village we are in right now is smaller than at home, with one restaurant and one shop, whose tempremental owner decided not to open after her siesta. Hostel tonight is a bit dodge .. Hope we get some sleep!

Day 2: St.Jean to Roncesvalles

Well really, it is only day 1 of our Camino and it seems they really want to test what you are made of on the first day. We left the sleeping village of St.Jean this morning at 6.45. We meant to leave at 6 a.m. but that's another story :) It started off lovely, the sun rising to our left as we passed by some gorgeous little red roof tiled farmhouses, some sheep and a donkey (the donkey was the first creature to wish us "Buen Camino!"). Then the gradient began to get a little steeper, and a little steeper and even steeper. We had two hours worth of a hard climb up a rocky path before we reached Orisson, calves burning and already questioning what the hell we were carrying in those backpacks. The scenery was beautiful, the rolling hills around us rising up out of the dewy morning mist, an absolutely cloudless blue sky and even a nice little breeze to keep us cool. We couldn't have asked for better conditions. We stopped at Orisson (which is basically just a cafe and a drinking water tap) for a cafe con leche and met the Spaniards that had been in our hostel the previous night and had left when we were supposed to have. We continued on and the next 2 hours were on a very pleasant path, up a gently ascending road up the mountain. It was for all the world like being down in west Kerry or up the Sally Gap, except for brilliant sunshine and all the shaggy looking ponies roaming around with the sheep, who all had bells. It was fairly uneventful except for me nearly killing a older man who was cycling up behind me on a unicycle! I didn't look back when I heard him coming and stepped right into his path instead of out of it causing him to cycle almost right over the edge! But seriously- who brings a unicycle on this thing?! We were talking to a Portuguese pair who were biking it (well, pushing their bikes up the hill complete with Portuguese flag capes and uncanny whistling abilities) and they said that bikes had probably been a bit of a mistake. We stopped for lunch on the side of a hill with the sheep and had two more very steep ascents before we caught sight of Roncesvalles nestled away in the middle of a forest in the valley below us. After a good 22km going up the mountains it was finally all downhill. The altitude we got up to today was 300m higher than Carrantuohill...Ouch. The cricket symphony had kept us going since morning and the hills were covered with purple heather on the way down. We stosped to watch at one stage, the wind swirling around the valley was making purple waves down the side of the hill. Fairly beaten by the road at this stage we eventually made it in, a good deal later than we anticipated, at 2.45 p.m. We checked into the pilgrim hostel, literally peeled off our socks and boots and collapsed. The hostel is pretty new and clean. It is huge. There are 172 beds on our floor alone. It's a bit like a capsule hotel but less oppressive. You have your own bunk and speaking of Japan, there is a Mr.Migagi lookalike called Koji-san in the bunk below me. Haha :) We had a nice nihongo conversation a little while ago. Its a bit mad that is it a big mixed dorm, Maura-chan is in the bunk across the way though so it is all good. Fairly stiff now, bed in a bit now. Hopefully we will still be able to walk tomorrow. We are shadows of our former selves at the moment... :) No blisters but Maura's got dodge ankles and my sticky out collarbones are wrecked from the shoulder straps already....Anyway, vamos!!!

Day 1:Biarritz to St. Jean Pied de Port

We have just arrived in Biarritz, not a cloud in the sky and a nice little breeze. We weren't two minutes out of the airport when next thing I look round and Maura is sprawled out on the pedestrian crossing :) hilarious!!! She had tripped over herself and already has a lovely grazed knee :) honestly, she makes me look good. Let's hope we don't kill ourselves on this thing. Good news though- it's 40km less than we thought, so a nice round 800kms. It still seems a little unreal. It will sink in fairly fast tomorrow when we are halfway up the mountains. The first stage takes us from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port up over the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles. They say the first part is the hardest. The locals have been saying to just take our time - the night is very long away :) St. Jean is an absolutely gorgeous little spot. A great way to start the trip.
"All of us travel two paths simultaneously - the outer path along which we haul our body and the inner pathway of the soul." 

Poppies

Almost set to go now. 2 more days. The sheer scale of this has hit me. 840 km. Breath. It will be interesting to see how the body holds out, and the mind for that matter. We can try to prepare as much as we like- but nothing could really prepare us for this. One step at a time. Through deserted roads, cities, mountains... Cornfields with red poppies running though them. I must keep an eye out for that.