Camino de Santiago: SJPP to Logrono

Clareboy

DAY 1 – ST. JEAN PIED de PORT

“A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”

My great Camino adventure began on Thursday October 2nd 2008 in the early hours of the morning. I ordered a taxi from my home for 5 AM to Shannon Airport in order to catch my 6.40 Ryanair flight to Biarritz in south-western France. We touched down at BAB (Biarritz Anglet Bayonne) Airport at 9.40 local time in the middle of a torrential downpour.
From BAB Airport, I caught the No. 6 STAB bus to Gare de Bayonne. I had been in Biarritz and Bayonne in July of this year at the end of my Pyrenees trip, so at least I knew my way around. I had about an hour to wait at the railway station for the 12.00 train to St. Jean Pied de Port (SJPP). The journey by train from Bayonne to SJPP takes an hour and a quarter. I could see other pilgrims at the station and on the train, identified by the scallop shells on their rucksacks. The train wound its way through the mist covered foothills of the Pyrenees, arriving at SJPP at 13.15. From the station, everyone just followed the signs up towards the old town and to the pilgrim’s office. SJPP has a highly photogenic old quarter built of pink sandstone and watched over by an imposing fortress. The narrow cobbled streets are very steep so it is a place where one has to slow down and take life easy.
On arrival at the pilgrim’s office, the pilgrim is looked after by one of the multi lingual volunteers. First of all there is the all important stamp for the pilgrim’s passport. Pilgrims are then given an up to date list of all the pilgrims’ hostels and some written advice on crossing the Pyrenees, the great mountain range between France and Spain. Scallop shells to hang on one’s rucksack are also available. Most important of all, the pilgrim’s office will arrange accommodation in SJPP for the person who has not made any advance reservation. They sent me to the house next door to the office, which was very convenient. I was met by an elderly French lady who spoke no English, but the deal was €12 for the night for a ‘dormitory’ bed and €25 per night for a private room. I chose the ‘dormitory’ bed for €12, which included breakfast. I had to take off my boots and leave them in the hallway and then make my way in my socks up two flights of rickety stairs to the third floor. To my surprise, it was not a dormitory at all, but just a large landing where she had squeezed in four beds. At least the bed had linen and blankets, so I did not have to use my sleeping bag.
My first task in SJPP was to buy a walking pole as I was unable to bring my own one from Ireland as they are now allowed in the cabin of the aircraft. I found a shop selling walking poles easily enough. I had a nice walk around the old quarter and the ramparts and took some photographs. The weather was not so good with showers that were very heavy, frequent and prolonged. Each time I passed the pilgrim’s office, it was full of walkers with rucksacks and cyclists spilling out onto the street. I later had a pilgrims’ dinner at one of the many restaurants in SJPP. As late as 9 PM, there were still crowds of pilgrims milling around the pilgrim’s office. The three main pilgrim routes across France converge on SJPP, so it is a bit of a bottle neck. As I watched all the crowds arriving in SJPP, I was beginning to have my doubts about the Camino de Santiago and if it was really for me. It was just basically a production line – get them in, stamp the passports, give them the info and the shell, get them a bed and keep them moving!
I eventually made my weary way to my landing bed and tried to get some sleep, which was not easy as the occupants of the surrounding rooms had to pass by my bed. I was also developing a dry tickly cough, so I spent most of the night coughing and choking. All night long, I could hear the rain pounding against the skylight window overhead. With the coughing and the noise of the rain, I did not sleep a wink.

Day 2 - St. Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles

That morning, Friday Oct. 3rd, some guy switched on all the lights at 6.30 AM, as much as the say – “get up and get out”. Breakfast was served at 7 AM, so I made my way down to the dining-room. The old lady started shouting at me in French. I did not know immediately what she was saying, but two words stood out – sac and manger. I had to have my sack packed and brought downstairs before I got any breakfast - some breakfast. . . a bowl of coffee and a toasted bread roll! Another problem was that there was only one toilet cubicle and one shower for all those people! After breakfast, I needed to go to the toilet, but I had a bit of a wait as there were two more people in front of me. In my rush to pack my rucksack, I had forgotten my walking pole which was under my bed. Only for another pilgrim saw it, I would have left without it. As I was putting on my boots in the hallway, she was still hovering over me, shouting and laughing. One of the other pilgrims translated and it seemed that she was making some kind of a joke about me needing another breakfast as I was so slow in getting ready. Basically she just could not get rid of us fast enough.
So there I am on the dark rain drenched streets of SJPP at 7.30 AM with no idea as to what to do or where to go. I got to a bench near the tourist office, where I put on my rain gear and tried to sort out my bags and my belongings. What am I doing here?
The Camino de Santiago is divided into 33 stages and each stage is 25 to 30 kilometres long, which is considered an average day’s walk for a fit and experienced long distance walker. The first stage is from SJPP to Roncesvalles and it is considered to be a ‘baptism of fire” into the Camino and Spain. One has to climb from SJPP, which is at 170m above sea level to a pass over the Pyrenees which is 1,450m or 4,757 feet above sea level. It is possible to do this section in two days by staying overnight at Auberge Orisson. An alternative route is to follow the main road from France into Spain, but this involves a climb to a height of 1,055m at the Ibañeta Pass and the road does not have a hard shoulder on which to walk on.
As I stood there in SJPP in the darkness and the pouring rain, I was starting to feel that the Camino was not for me and that I should just get the next flight back to Shannon. I had no food or supplies for such a long walk and how could I face into the mountains in the teeming rain. I went into a cafe for a coffee and to decide what I would do. Luckily, I had done some research on the Internet before I left home and I found out that a lady called Caroline in SJPP runs a mini-bus taxi service called Le Bourricot (The Little Donkey) and that she takes pilgrims and their luggage over the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles. I phoned her and she replied in perfect English. She said that she would take me to Roncesvalles for €13 and that she would pick me up in 15 minutes. While I was waiting for Caroline, I went to a pharmacy to get something for my cough. I made a coughing sound while saying seche (dry) and pointing to my throat. They gave me a cough bottle which did improve my dry cough. In a few minutes, I was on my way in style with Caroline over the mountains to Spain. As we drove along the winding N135 highway, the rain cleared and magnificent views of the mountains and valleys opened up. We were now in the Spanish region of Navarra, which is Basque in culture even though it is not part of the Basque Country. All place names in Navarra are given in Spanish and Basque. I asked Caroline to drop me off at the Ibañeta Pass, as it is just a few kilometres downhill from there to the monastery at Roncesvalles. At Ibañeta, there is a small modern wayside chapel, where a bell is rung in misty weather to guide pilgrims down from the mountains. A nearby mound is covered with small handmade wooden crosses that have been erected there by pilgrims. It was an easy walk down to Roncesvalles along a forest track. At that altitude, I could feel my hands starting to go numb with the cold and I was sorry that I did not have any gloves. After a short time the rooftops of the great monastery of Roncesvalles came into view. I could imagine the other pilgrims struggling over the mountains and here was I in Roncesvalles at 10.30 AM.

Roncesvalles

Roncesvalles is still cloaked in its medieval atmosphere and it has been welcoming pilgrims since the 12th century. Catholics, Jews, pagans, heretics, and vagabonds are all welcome here. It should be pointed out at this stage that the Camino de Santiago is open to people off all religions and those with none. Lying at an altitude of 950m, Roncesvalles has a permanent population of less than a 100 and its entire existence to geared towards the needs of pilgrims on the Camino. It is the traditional starting place for Spanish pilgrims doing the Camino de Santiago. The settlement of Roncesvalles consists of a large monastic complex, 2 hotels, a tourist office and an Albergue de Peregrinos (Pilgrim’s Hostel). The place has 3 names – Roncesvalles in Spanish, Orreaga in Basque and Roncevaux in French. I checked in at the pilgrim’s office and I was allocated bed number one! The albergue (hostel) does not open until 4 PM, but I was able to leave my larger rucksack at the office, which left me free to explore the monastic buildings. I took a 2 hour guided tour of the monastery complex which cost €3. The tour was delivered in Spanish, but I was given an audio guide that enabled me to listen to the tour in English. The tour includes the two churches, the cloisters, the museum and Silo Carlomango, which is the burial place of Charlemagne’s warriors who were slain at the Battle of Roncessvalles in 1276. The Silo is an arcaded building with a central altar and underneath the altar in a large underground chamber can be seen the bones and skulls of Charlemagne’s warriors. The museum contains ecclesiastical reliquaries one of which contains two thorns from Christ’s crown of thorns and another contains the mummified arm of Saint Marina. It also displays a selection of processional crosses, mitres, crosiers, chalices and Episcopal rings.
After all that sightseeing, I was feeling a pang of hunger, so I went into one of the hotels – La Posada, and treated myself to a full 4 course lunch. The weather that day was very rainy with frequent heavy downpours, but I managed to take a few photographs around Roncesvalles.
The albergue (hostel) is housed in a very austere windowless stone building across the road from the main monastic complex. It is the original medieval pilgrim’s hospital and in those days, pilgrims were often dirty and disease ridden, so they had to be housed away from the monastery. On entering the building any uneasy feelings are immediately dispelled by the actual warmth inside and the friendly welcome from the Dutch volunteers who run the hostel. Each pilgrim is welcomed with a cup of tea or coffee. The hostel consists of one huge dormitory with bunk beds for 120 pilgrims. It is the largest single pilgrim’s dormitory on the Camino. The Dutch volunteers have done their best to make the place as warm and as welcoming as possible. They have candles lighting and sacred music playing in the background. In the basement area there are washrooms, a kitchen, a drying area, computers with Internet access and even a special area for charging mobile phones, digital cameras and IPods. I picked a bed near the reception area, the centre of the action where I could see all the rain drenched and mud covered pilgrims arriving after their strenuous trek across the Pyrenees. Pilgrims arriving must first of all take off their muddy boots and place them on shelves inside the main door. The Dutch volunteers spoke perfect English and I had some interesting chats with them during the afternoon.
That evening at 7PM we all gathered for the pilgrim’s dinner at La Posada. We were all seated at large round tables and it was my first opportunity to meet other pilgrims who had come from many different countries. A typical pilgrim’s dinner consists of a choice of starters, main courses, and desserts. The price of €9 also includes wine, water and bread. The ‘Menu de Peregrinos’ represents excellent value for money and the great advantage is that it is served early at 7PM. Normally, the Spanish do not have dinner until 9 or 10PM. Pilgrims need an early dinner because they always go to bed early and get up early. After dinner at 8PM, there was pilgrims mass and blessing in the monastery church. It was a lovely ceremony in medieval surroundings. After mass, it was back to the albergue and to bed. The lights are turned off at 10.00, but it takes a while to quieten down 120 pilgrims of all nationalities and age groups. The Dutch volunteers who run the hostel also sleep there in a partitioned off area. First of all he starts switching the lights on and off as a signal to all that it is time for bed and sleep and then he goes around saying. . . Shhhhhh!





Day 3 – Roncesvalles to Viskarret

The following morning, it was lights on at 6AM. Pilgrims have to vacate the albergue by 8AM. The washrooms were very crowded that morning as everyone tried to have a wash and get ready for another days walking. Guys were sharing a wash basin such was the overcrowding in the washrooms. I met one Irish pilgrim in the wash room, but he seemed to be in a big hurry as I saw him later going out the door in full rain gear while I was still in my pyjamas. This very obese Australian lady arrived down at the reception desk asking if there was a bus to Pamplona. The lady behind the reception desk curtly asked her “Why do you need a bus?” The Australian lady explained that she did not have proper rain gear and that she needed to get to Pamplona to buy some. Most pilgrim hostels are only open to walkers and cyclists and not to people who travel by bus or taxi. If one needs to use a bus or taxi, one should be discreet and make enquires locally rather that at the actual albergue. The spectacle of 120 pilgrims getting ready for the camino in one huge dormitory was amazing – a heaving mass of humanity.
Most pilgrims walk the 3 Kms to the village of Burguete to have breakfast as they do not have the patience to wait until the nearby hotel – Casa La Sabina opens for breakfast at 8AM. I had breakfast at Casa La Sabina as I could not imagine starting a day’s walk without my breakfast. El Desayuno – breakfast in Spain is usually a simple meal of orange juice, coffee and a roll. Anyway, the sun did not rise until around 8PM and I had no interest in walking in the dark.
This was to be my first full days walking on the camino, so I was naturally full of enthusiasm and raring to get going. I still had some serious doubts about the camino after seeing the vast crowded albergue in Roncesvalles. Are all the albergues going to be this crowded? As I am a slow walker, will the albergue be full when I arrive at the next one. What if I have to sleep in the top bed, which I hate as I am always afraid that I will fall to the floor during the night and get hurt.

Burguete

It was a beautiful sunny morning as I left Roncesvalles on my first real full day on the Camino de Santiago. The first part of the Camino is along a level woodland path which leads to the village of Burguete. Burguete is a typically pleasant one street Basque Pyrenean settlement, surrounded by fields, cattle barns and wooded ridges on the horizon. It seems that Ernest Hemingway used to hang out here and do some fishing. I was fascinated by the wonderful old Pyrenean style houses with their stone lintels and flower bedecked balconies that lined the street. There are streams of clear water flowing along the spotlessly clean streets. I took a break at a picnic site where there were some hens grazing. At a bar, I bought a ham and cheese roll to take away in case I felt hungry later. Leaving Burguete, the camino passes a picturesque ford and a wooden footbridge. One will never get lost on the Camino de Santiago as there are signs everywhere to guide one, including las flechas amarillas – the yellow arrows. “Buen Camino” is the common greeting when one meets a fellow pilgrim and there were lots of pilgrims on the camino that morning. I now felt that it was good to be alive and walking through such a beautiful landscape accompanied by the sounds of birdsong, flowing water and the tinkling of cowbells. The walker on the camino will encounter all kinds of surfaces underfoot from asphalted country roads and paved walkways to gravelled forest tracks, rocky uneven paths and muddy farm tracks

Viskarret

At around 13.30, I had reached the ancient hamlet of Viskarret. I had walked 12 km that day. As I wandered around trying to decide if I would spend the night there, a French woman approached me and she seemed to have some kind of a problem with her mobile phone. She was then joined by an elderly Frenchman who spoke English. She was trying to contact her husband but for some reason, she was unable to do so. I gave her a loan of my mobile phone and she was able to contact her husband. She was so grateful that she insisted in taking me to the local bar for some food and drink. It seems that she and the elderly Frenchman were walking part of the camino and when they reached a village, she would phone her husband and he would come and pick them up in the car. There are many different ways of doing the Camino. The husband then arrived and he showed me photos that he took in Ireland on his laptop. I spent a very entertaining two hours with the three French people sitting outside this little bar in Viskarret.
At that stage, I had decided to spend the night at La Posada Nueva (The New Inn), which is a Casa Rural, a country guesthouse. The cost for the night was €27 for an en-suite room. La Posada Nueva is housed in a lovely old Pyrenean house that dates from 1867. Oh! the luxury of my own room and a soak in a hot bath after a day’s walking. There was also a well stocked shop in the village where I was able to purchase some food for the road.
The lady told me that dinner would be served at 8PM and it would cost €12. I arrived down at 8PM, to find the dining room deserted – not even a table set up. There were 2 guys talking in a corner in English and on speaking to them I discovered that they were also pilgrims. One of them was Dutch and the other Swiss. We could see no sign of any activity in the kitchen only some kids fooling around. There were two young American guys sitting outside the house eating bread because they could not afford dinner. We were then joined by a Spanish cyclist. At around 8.45, the lady eventually appeared and started to prepare dinner. Needless to mention, we were all very hungry at this stage. The other pilgrims had walked all the way from France. She served up soup and then some sliced potatoes and tomato. She was then talking about el postre – the dessert. The Dutch guy refused to give up his knife and fork and banged them off the table and demanded some meat or fish. The atmosphere in the dining room became quite tense at this stage. There were 4 very hungry men who did not get enough food. The lady eventually brought out a tray of sausages and eggs – better that nothing. The dessert was a local speciality – natural yogurt with honey. The other pilgrims refused to have breakfast there the following morning and demanded their bills. €12 would be considered pricy by Spanish standards, so we naturally expected a good meal. No apology was offered by the lady of the house for the lateness or the poor quality of the dinner.
Day 4 – Viskarret to Zubiri

There were just 6 pilgrims in Viskarret that night, so one can find an oasis of peace and quiet on the Camino. The following morning after breakfast, I started my days walking with the two young American pilgrims who were from Colorado and Seattle. They did not carry any fancy folding walking poles only sticks that they had found in the woods. The camino passed the peaceful hamlet of Linzoan and up though a narrow defile into dense mixed woodland. This shady woodland path continued along a ridge to the Alto de Erro, where the camino crosses the N135, the main road to Pamplona. We came across a memorial to a Japanese pilgrim who died on the Camino in 2002 aged 64 years. Further on, the ruins of an old abandoned pilgrim’s inn are passed. At this stage, we were confronted by a herd of horned cattle on the pathway in front of us – fighting bulls! , so we had to ease our way around them. We then descended a very steep rocky outcrop to the medieval bridge at Zubiri. At that point, I parted company from my American friends as they were walking on to Pamplona. Even though it was only 12 midday, I decided to spend the night in Zubiri and relax for the afternoon. ‘Quit while you are ahead’ – became my motto on the camino. That day I had only walked for about 3½ hours covering about 9km.

Zubiri

Entering the village of Zubiri, I was in for a bit of a shock as there were thousands of people around as well as loud music and all kinds of racket. The local brass band then came marching down the street – must be some kind of a fiesta. I had planned to spend the night at Albergue Zaldiko, a private hostel in Zubiri. I made my way through the crowds to the albergue only to find the place full of people but no sign of the hospitalero (warden). I eventually found out that the Albergue Zaldiko was the actual finishing line of the Roncesvalles Marathon and I was in the thick of it. I was trapped there for about an hour as the surrounding streets were closed off with crowd barriers. All the local media and officials were positioned just outside the hostel. Eventually the hospitalera , a charming lady appeared and checked me in. She apologised for all the commotion and noise out in the street. Albergue Zaldiko is a private hostel with just 16 beds. They charge €10 per night which includes free Internet. That afternoon, I wandered around Zubiri, which was en fete with musical groups, dancing, stalls and various amusements.
As part of my advance research on the Camino, I joined a pilgrim’s forum on the Internet – ‘where past pilgrims share and new pilgrims learn’. This lady called Isabelle, a forum member indicated that she was starting the Camino at about the same time as me and she asked any forum members on the Camino to watch out for her. She described herself as black, over forty, overweight, unfit and speaking English with a French accent. I met her that afternoon in Albergue Zaldiko and we had a long chat about our Camino experiences. Isabelle like me was doing the Camino at an easy pace. She is French and she speaks English with a delightful French accent and lives in Brighton, England. There was also this Korean lady called Moon staying in Albergue Zaldiko. She was a very small person carrying a very large rucksack, which was actually bigger than her. Actually, I met 5 Koreans altogether who were doing the Camino.
That evening at 7PM, we all gathered at a local bar for the pilgrim’s dinner. The nationalities around the table included pilgrims from France, Germany, USA, Canada and Japan. It was there that I discovered the wonderful sense of friendship and camaraderie that exists between pilgrims of all nationalities. You will never walk alone on the Camino de Santiago unless you really want to and you will never eat alone – well not in the evening.
There were only 7 pilgrims staying in Albergue Zaldiko that night, so it had a nice peaceful and intimate atmosphere. I was now really starting to enjoy the camino and any concerns that I did have about overcrowding were dispelled. I just could not wait to get going again the next morning.

Day 5 – Zubiri to Pamplona

It was another bright sunny morning as I headed off from Zubiri towards the great city of Pamplona. From Zubiri, a concrete path climbs above the bleak Magnesitas de Navarra industrial complex and the sounds of nature are replaced by the harsh sounds of industry. This is a huge complex that extends along the valley floor for many kilometres. The camino passes through a man made desert of tailing ponds and industrial waste. I was now very much into workaday Spain. After leaving the industrial area, several small hamlets are passed, one of which has a lovely enclosed shelter and fountain where the tired pilgrim may rest his or her limbs. I stopped off in the village of Larrsoaña, where I got my passport stamped at the town hall. Later I rested for a while on bench beside the river in the tiny village of Zabaldica, enjoying the warm sunshine, taking a few photographs and watching a shepherd driving his flock of sheep. As the camino now runs parallel to the N135, some nice picnic sites are passed where the pilgrim may rest. Later, I found myself struggling up a steep rocky path with the sun beating down mercilessly from a cloudless sky. It must have been at least 25C, which is hot for an Irish person. Oh! The heat, the dust, the sweat, my aching legs and my heavy bag biting into by shoulders! Gasp! Eventually, I found myself in the outer suburbs of Pamplona with its traffic and motorways.

Trinidad de Arre

The camino route into Pamplona arrives into the city via the magnificent medieval bridge at Trinidad de Arre. Over the narrow bridge through an archway lies the Convento de Trinidad, which has been sheltering pilgrims since the 11th century. The setting is truly magical, with the old bridge, the ancient monastery and church and the sound of flowing water from the nearby cascades. It was now 2PM and I had walked 16kms that day – I had gone far enough. Even though the albergue at Trinidad de Arre did not open until 3PM, there was a cool porch in which to wait and I needed a good break at this stage. While I waited outside the albergue, many pilgrims passed by heading on towards the centre of Pamplona.
As I waited for the Trinidad de Arre hostel to open, an American girl named Chrissie who I had met the night before in Zubiri arrived. We were eventually joined by my other pilgrim friends, Isabelle and Moon. The great thing about arriving at a hostel early in the afternoon is that one has a good choice of beds and one can have a shower in peace and comfort. The Trinidad de Arre albergue is a monastic hostel and is run by the Marist Brothers. We were checked in at 3PM by an elderly brother, paying €6 for the night. Trinidad de Arre has a lovely peaceful atmosphere and it is kept spotlessly clean with all facilities. It has a range of coin operated machines where one can buy sandwiches, snacks and hot and cold drinks. There is a nice cosy lounge and a shady garden with seating. What a relief to take off those walking boots and to get rid of that heavy rucksack.
As regards our evening pilgrim’s dinner, the brother told us that the local Centro de Jubliados (Old Folks Centre) served a pilgrim’s menu, but that there was a fiesta in the area – another fiesta! – so no dinner. Later we made our way through the dancing and cheering crowds enjoying a local fiesta which included mock bullfights with bulls on wheels! For dinner, we had to settle for some bocadillos (sandwiches) in a local bar.

Day 6 – Pamplona

The next day – Tuesday October 7th was spent just crossing from one side of Pamplona to the other. My plan for the day was to explore the old part of Pamplona and then make my way to Albergue Roncal, which is on the western side of the city in Cizur Menor. As I would be spending the day in an urban environment, I decided not to bother with the walking boots and spend the day in sandals – what a relief! I do not consider walking through the suburbs of a large city to be the real camino, so I just boarded a city bus for the centre of Pamplona.
Pamplona, the capital of Navarra, is a sprawling city of over 200,000 people. Pamplona is famous for the encierro – the running of the bulls, which takes place each year in July. The bulls are released and are driven through the streets with hundreds of locals and tourists who are foolish or drunk enough to test their daring against the horns. The spectacle marks a week of madness and mayhem in Pamplona and it is a place to be avoided by the lone pilgrim at that time of year. The presence of ‘The Bulls’ Irish bar adds to the cosmopolitan ambiance of Pamplona.
I made my way to Pamplona Cathedral and spent about an hour visiting this impressive church and the adjoining museum. I also got my pilgrims’ passport stamped. Many different places besides albergues along the Camino offer sellos – stamps to passing pilgrims including churches, museums and some restaurants and shops.
After visiting the Cathedral, I decided to follow the camino signs across the city, resting frequently along the way in the many delightful parks and plazas. Pamplona has the best pedestrian crossings that I have come across in any city. Each pedestrian light has a countdown, so when the light is green, it shows how many seconds one has to cross the street before the light turns red. When the light is red, it shows how many seconds is left before the light will turn green again. There is an impressive monument to the encierro, which really captures the bull running with the men falling under the charging bulls.
As I walked along taking in the sights of downtown Pamplona, I suddenly realised that I did not have my walking pole; I must have left it behind in the last park bench that I sat on. I then had to retrace my steps and try and find my walking pole. I met Chrissie and Isabelle along the way and told them of my predicament. The problem is that in the city, I was not actually using the walking pole and I was inclined to leave it down when I sat somewhere for a rest. The one that I bought in SJPP was faulty and I was unable to fold it up and attach it to my rucksack. I retraced my steps all the way to the cathedral, but no sign of my walking pole. The lady at the cathedral directed me to a shop that sold walking poles. I had to buy another one as walking the camino without a pole would be difficult if not dangerous. With all the walking around looking for my pole and then trying to find a shop that sold walking poles, I needed a good lunch. At this stage it started to rain and I could also feel a head cold coming on. After lunch, I had to find the tourist office and enquire about buses to Cizur Menor. They directed me to the appropriate bus stop and I must have waited at the stop for about an hour for bus No. 1. Eventually Bus No. 1 arrived and I boarded indicating to the female driver that I needed to go to Cizur Menor. As I was sitting down, she called me back and I had to get off the bus again as I was not on the right one – what an embarrassment! After about half an hour, I was at last on the right bus.

Cizur Menor

My destination was the Albergue Roncal, a private pilgrim’s hostel in Cizur Menor, an upmarket suburb of Pamplona. On arrival in Cizur Menor by city bus, I immediately went to Albergue Roncal. There is a nice stone building on the street, but from there onwards, the pilgrim’s experience goes steadily downhill. It was the most untidy pilgrim’s hostel that I stayed in during my two weeks on the camino – organized chaos! The ‘reception desk’ was a garden table and the grounds were strewn with builder’s rubble and miscellaneous junk. The pilgrim’s dormitories, washrooms and kitchen were scattered around in different outbuildings that were connected by water logged pathways with overhanging trees and overgrown hedges. I don’t know how they actually work in such a place and how they can keep the place clean in such chaos. It is a popular stopover for pilgrims as they rest and brace themselves for the next stage of the camino which involves climbing over the Alto Del Perdon. When I got settled in, I went to the local pharmacy in order to get something for my worsening head cold. That evening, we had a pilgrim’s meal at a local asador (grill), where I was joined by Isabelle, Chrissie, Neil from Canada and another French pilgrim. There was this sad pale little waitress serving dinner and we could not make her smile even though we tried! As the restaurant got busy, she was joined by an even tinier, paler and sadder waitress!
There were a number of cycling pilgrims staying in Cizur Menor that night, many arriving covered in mud from head to toe. One guy was trying to dry his shoes with a hairdryer! In my opinion, Albergue Roncal was the worst of the 10 pilgrim’s hostels that I stayed in during my first two weeks on the Camino.
Overall, Day 6 was not a good day, but then I am on a pilgrimage, so one must take the rough with the smooth.

Day 7 – Pamplona to Uterga

The following morning (Wednesday October 8th.) the rain had cleared and sun was shining again. Mornings in a pilgrim’s hostel can be a bit chaotic as everyone scrambles to have a wash, prepare breakfast and back their bags. Many hostels insist on an 8AM or 8.30 departure, which does not give one a lot of time to get ready.
Today’s stage involves climbing over the Alto del Perdon, which is almost 800 meters high and presents a major challenge for the pilgrim. I was joined by Isabelle for the climb, which was along a steep and very muddy track. On our way up, we passed a memorial to Belgian pilgrim who died on the ascent of Alto del Perdon. On reaching the summit, one can enjoy magnificent views back to Pamplona and westwards towards Puente La Reina. An impressive monument to the pilgrims of medieval times stands on the summit of Alto Del Perdon. The evocative monument consists of a wrought iron representation of medieval pilgrims and their burros (donkeys) and other animals, heads bent into the west wind. As a complete contrast, a group of wind turbines on the mountainside create a powerful visual impact and statement that modern technology has well and truly arrived. Alto del Perdon is a major landmark on the Camino and we lingered there for a while, admiring the views, taking some photos and chatting to some of the other pilgrims.
From Alto del Perdon, it was a steep descent over loose stones and through scrubland to the rich red earth, vineyards and almond trees below. We eventually reached the village of Uterga, where Isabelle and I parted company. She decided to walk on to Puente La Reina, whereas I decided that I had walked enough and I checked in at the Albergue Camino Del Perdon. This modern private hostel looked very inviting with its outside seating area and general air of cleanliness and tidiness. Albergue Camino del Perdon provides food throughout the day as well as serving a pilgrim’s dinner and breakfast and is a place of refuge for the weary pilgrim.

Eunate

As it was only 2PM at this stage, I decided to make a detour off the camino to visit the beautiful 12th century Romanesque church at Eunate, which is about 5kms from Uterga. I was now walking light minus my heavy rucksack, so it was an enjoyable ramble along farm tracks to Eunate. The church at Eunate is considered one of the jewels of the camino and is linked with the Knights Templar who long defended pilgrims on the route to Santiago. It’s simple rounded arches and unadorned interior are typical of Romanesque churches of this period. Standing on its own in the simple beauty of the countryside, it is surrounded by a unique freestanding outer porch. A lovely old stone house nearby offers limited pilgrim accommodation. A pilgrim’s stamp is also offered at this house. The walk back to Uterga brought me through fields of maize (corn on the cob), asparagus and peppers. It was almost 6PM when I got back to Albergue Camino del Perdon. I felt very tired that evening as I had walked 22 Kms in total that day and my legs were ready to fall off! There were just 6 pilgrims staying at Albergue Camino del Perdon that night, a German family of 4, an Israeli girl and myself. Chatting to the Israeli girl at dinner, I was surprised to learn that she was Jewish and she had flown especially from Israel to walk the Camino de Santiago. I was now at the end of the first week of my Camino and I was really enjoying it and just could not wait for the dawn of another brand new day.

Day 8 – Uterga to Puente La Reina

The following morning was bright and sunny as I departed from Albergue Camino del Perdon Uterga. The next village that I passed through was Obanos where scallop shells embedded in the pavements guide the pilgrim on his way. Walking the Camino de Santiago gives one a real insight into Spanish village life. The passing pilgrim is always greeted by a Buen Camino or Buenos Dias by the friendly locals. In the villages, there are always places to sit down and rest and always a fountain providing cool drinking water. Shops and other businesses are indicated by discrete hand-made wooden or metal signs. One will see nothing like the ugly and vulgar signage that is a feature of villages and towns in this country (Ireland). From Obanos, the camino passes through an area of market gardens where a large variety of exotic vegetables and fruits are grown.

Puente La Reina

After a walk of about two and a half hours, I had arrived in Puente La Reina (The Queen’s Bridge). Puente La Reina is a bit of a pilgrim bottleneck because it is here that The Camino Francés is joined by the Camino Aragonese and all the different camino routes become one. A monument showing a representation of a medieval pilgrim marks the point where the two camino routes meet. Puente La Reina has a population of around 2,000 and it has all facilities. There are 3 pilgrim’s hostels in Puente La Reina and I chose the one run by a religious order – Los Padres Reparadores. I was one of the first pilgrims to check in that day as I had reached Puente La Reina at around 11.30 AM. The charge for a bed for the night is €5! The hostel is spotlessly clean with a nice garden and all facilities.
The narrow streets of Puente La Reina have retained their age old atmosphere while still providing all the necessities of life. The architectural highlight of the town is the magnificent Romanesque bridge which was built to carry pilgrims over the Arga River. I spent that afternoon exploring Puente La Reina and taking some photographs. As I was photographing the medieval bridge, I could see two pilgrims with a burro (donkey) passing in the distance.
Travelling around Navarra, one sees many posters in the streets calling for independence for the Basque Country. The posters are always written in English because the Basque language is incomprehensible to people from outside the Basque country.
A number of restaurants in Puente La Reina advertise a Menu de Peregrino, but on enquiring, I found a half-hearted and lackadaisical attitude. I eventually found a place that did a pilgrims’ menu for €8. It was only the second night since the start of my Camino that I had dinner alone. I found that there was a lack of atmosphere in the hostel in Puente La Reina and in the town. I find that in the larger places, the needs and indeed the presence of the pilgrims is not as much appreciated as in the smaller settlements.

Day 9 - Puente La Reina to Lorca

The following morning, I got chatting to this American pilgrim called Anthony who had occupied the bunk be above me that night. At 8.30 AM, we were the only two pilgrims that were still getting ready in the hostel. Most of the other pilgrims had departed since 7AM or before even though it would have been still dark at that time. Anthony agreed with me that for most male pilgrims, the camino is just a test of endurance and stamina. For them, the camino is just something that they do to prove their manhood. They have to be up out of bed and out the door before anyone else and of course they will boast in the evening of how many kilometres they have walked that day. Many male pilgrims have no appreciation whatsoever of the spiritual aspect of the camino and no interest in the history or heritage of the places that they pass through. That is why that I found that I had more in common with la peregrina, the female pilgrim, who generally seemed to be more relaxed about the whole thing and are not as hyped up as the males. I also noticed that the women were not afraid to admit that they were tired or exhausted after a day’s walking.
Anthony was still getting ready as I left the hostel in Puente La Reina, so we agreed that we would meet later that day. It was another beautiful sunny morning as I crossed the medieval bridge in Puente La Reina as so many pilgrims have done before me since the 12th century. From Puente La Reina, a dirt track climbs up a very steep ravine – Pant! Gasp! The track then runs for a short distance beside the motorway. As I looked at the speeding traffic, the thought strikes me – why did I not hire a car and do the Camino de Santiago the easy way? But then, am I not lucky to have the strength, the time and the resources to do it the traditional way on foot. I stopped for a while to rest in a shady corner of the sleepy village of Mañeru, chatting to a Dutch pilgrim who has stopped to refill his water bottle and have some food. The peaceful path then winds its way through vineyards interspersed with olive trees. Another benefit for the autumn pilgrim is that one can pick and eat the ripe and luscious grapes from the vines as one walks along. I came across some Spanish pilgrims picking nuts from a tree. They gave me some, but as I did not have a nutcracker, I did not know what to do with them. Contemplating the dusty pathway as it wound its way through this ancient landscape, I realised that I was walking on ground that has soaked up the sweat, blood and tears of countless pilgrims who have passed this way during the last millennium. As I walked along, I could see this old man in the distance plodding along with his two walking poles. He was moving quiet slowly and I had to pass him. I greeted him with the usual pilgrim greeting – Buen Camino, but he did not respond.

Cirauqui

I eventually reached the medieval hilltop village of Cirauqui. Of all the villages that I passed through, I would rate Cirauqui as being the most attractive and best preserved – the very epitome of old Spain. The village is entered via a fortified gateway which reveals a maze of winding narrow streets that are beautifully paved, very clean and lined with houses bearing armorial crests carved in stone and ornate flower bedecked balconies. I rested for a while in the village square and took some photos. As I sat there, a number of other pilgrims passed through Cirauqui, panting and gasping as they went by. I felt like asking them – what’s the big hurry?
Outside Cirauqui, I came across the best preserved stretch of Roman road on the Camino. The Roman road leads down a steep incline to a gloriously dilapidated single span Roman bridge still fulfilling the function for which it was built over 2,000 years ago. I wondered if many of the pilgrim’s passing through that morning had any idea of the age of the road and bridge that they had just passed over.
From the Roman bridge, the camino climbs steeply again to a new footbridge over the motorway – will it last 2,000 years! After a few kilometres of open farmland, the camino passes under a modern concrete aqueduct that is supported by large A shaped supports. An ancient medieval bridge over the Rio Salado (Salty River) is then crossed. The waters of the Rio Salado were once believed to be poisonous and in medieval times the Basques would wait at the bridge in order to skin any pilgrim’s horse or burro that might die here. The camino then passes through a series of stone lined tunnels under the motorway and up a stony path to the village of Lorca.


Lorca

The quaint village of Lorca, my destination for the night was a welcome sight that sweltering afternoon. I had walked 13 Km since I left Puente La Reina that morning. Lorca has 2 pilgrim’s hostels and they are situated opposite each other on either side of a narrow street. One charges €7 for a bed and the other, La Bodega del Camino charges €8 per bed. I decided to stay at La Bodega del Camino, as it looked the better of the two hostels. After a shower, a cold beer and some food, I took stock of my surroundings. Albergue La Bodega del Camino in Lorca has all the facilities that the jaded pilgrim needs in order to recover from the hardships of the camino and to prepare for the next day. The place is very well kept and has a very friendly atmosphere. Free Internet access is also offered. There is a most charming Spanish lady in charge who speaks fluent English. I needed some washing done and she helped me with the washer and the dryer.
That afternoon, I sat in the nearby shady plaza in my shorts, tee-shirt and sun hat, just enjoying the warm sunshine and listening to the water flowing from the fountain. I was thinking about the American pilgrim that I had been talking to that morning in Puente La Reina. I must have been one of the slowest pilgrims on the Camino and he certainly did not pass me out and I was wondering what happened to him. I think that he may have taken the bus to the next town.
As I lazed in the afternoon sun, a lady came to the fountain to wash her boots. I commented that it was a good idea and that I must do the same. She was actually Irish and she was staying in the hostel across the road with two other Irish ladies. I arranged to join them for the pilgrim’s dinner later at La Bodega Del Camino.
That evening at 7PM, the pilgrims from both hostels gathered at La Bodega del Camino for the pilgrim’s dinner. There were the 4 Irish pilgrims, a German pilgrim named Andreas and an English couple. The 3 Irish ladies, Kathleen, Noreen and Anne were telling me that they live in Dublin and that they are members of a walking club. They too planned to finish their camino in Logroño and to come back again next year to do some more stages. As we sat around chatting after dinner, we were like just one big happy family.
As we discussed our plans for tomorrow, Anne was telling me that she was not much of a long distance walker and that sometimes she had to take the bus and meet her other two friends in a particular village. My plan for the following was to walk the 9km or so to Estella. The Irish were ladies were planning to spend the following night in Villamayor De Monjardín, the next village after Estella. Anne said that she was taking the bus from Lorca to Estella in the morning and then she would meet her other two friends in Estella and walk to Villamayor De Monjardín, from there. I did not really want to spend a night in Estella as it is a fairly large town of about 15,000 people and maybe not my kind of place. I decided then to travel with Anne in the bus to Estella at 8AM in the morning and that we would walk from Estella to Villamayor De Monjardín. The other Irish ladies were prepared to walk the entire 17 kms to Villamayor De Monjardín.
That night, I had the privilege of having an entire dormitory to myself with my own washroom and balcony – what luxury. . . and no snoring! I would rate the Albergue Bodega del Camino in Lorca as the best pilgrim’s hostel that I stayed in on this part of my camino. It has everything – great facilities, a very friendly atmosphere, good food and nice surroundings. They serve breakfast at 9AM and one does not have to check until 11AM! Unfortunately, I could not enjoy a rest that morning as I had to catch a bus at 8AM.

Day 10 – Lorca to Villamayor De Monjardín,

The following morning, Anne and I were down at the bus stop in order to catch the 8.14 bus service to Estella, which is on the Pamplona to Logroño route. When we arrived in Estella, we went to a shop in order to stock up on food for the day. Taking the camino out of Estella, we reached Bodegas de Irache, an important landmark on the Camino de Santiago. Here is situated the famous wine fountain, where the pilgrim can fortify himself at the generosity of the bodegas – in other words there is free wine for the pilgrims and indeed anyone else who comes along. Unfortunately, they do not provide glasses and anyway we felt that 9AM was too early to be drinking wine! A Spanish family were there filling up a plastic bottle with the free wine. There is also a wine museum for those interested. The huge recently abandoned Monasterio de Irache is set to become a Parador de Turismo – a state run luxury hotel. There is also a hotel and a camping park in Irache and some pilgrims have stayed in chalets in the camping park.
Our destination for that day was the village of Villamayor De Monjardín. In the distance, we could see the Castle of Monjardín, which is perched on top of a 900 meter high mountain. Fortunately, the village is situated lower down at 650 metres. We made our way through peaceful oak and pine forests to the quite village of Azqueta. We bought some toasted sandwiches from a local bar and ate them sitting in the little plaza while watching some of the local children playing with a cat.
Later we stopped at Fuente de Los Moros, the 13th century Fountain of the Moors with its splendid double arch of distinctly Arabic influence. The fountain is an oasis of cool limpid water designed to sooth and relax the exhausted pilgrim.

‘The Dutch Place’

We had planned to stay at the Oasis Trails Hostel in Villamayor de Monjardín, in other words – ‘The Dutch Place’ as it is run by a Dutch Evangelical group. On entering the village of Villamayor de Monjardín, we passed the parish hostel, but we continued on to the centre of the village to ‘The Dutch Place’ which is housed in an old medieval mansion overlooking the main square. There was nobody at home when we arrived as it was siesta time, but a note invited us to choose a bed and to make ourselves at home. The place is pretty basic, but the building, the views and the setting – just magical!
After settling in, I set out to explore the village of Villamayor. The village offers splendid views of the surrounding countryside as it lies at an elevation of 650 metres. The conical peak of Monjardín with its castle ruins forms a distinctive backdrop. The imposing church which was open to visitors is basically 12th century Romanesque with an 18th century Baroque tower. Below the village is a large winery – Castillo de Monjardín. Off the main plaza is a large pelota court in which the game of pelota, a type of squash that is popular in the Basque regions is played.
At 4PM, we were checked in by one of the Dutch volunteers who run the hostel. The basic cost for accommodation is €5, but they offer a package that includes accommodation, dinner and breakfast for €18 – outstanding value! We were later joined by Kathleen, Noreen and Andreas.
That evening, a shared dinner was served in an old kitchen with a blazing log fire. There were 3 Dutch volunteers running the place, a middle aged man and a young couple. They come from the Netherlands to spend a number of weeks here as volunteers looking after the pilgrims. The middle aged man, who works for the Netherlands Railways, was particularly friendly and chatty. He did all the talking while the younger couple did all the work! We, the 4 Irish pilgrims were joined at the table by Andreas from Germany and a Belgian pilgrim. After a delicious home cooked dinner, the younger volunteer announced that “we have had food for the body and now it was time for some food for the soul”. At 9PM, a number of us, the 4 Irish and the pilgrims from Germany and Belgium as well as the 3 Dutch volunteers gathered at the fire side for meditation followed by prayers, hymn singing and healing. The French Pilgrims did not participate as the event was in English. A general discussion about the Camino followed. The whole thing was well conducted and nobody was put under any pressure to speak or sing - a truly memorable end to a day on the Camino de Santiago.

Day 11 - Villamayor de Monjardín to Los Arcos

The following morning, I was up at around 7AM, the usual rising time for pilgrims. First things first – a visit to the washroom. There was this guy at the basin shaving and it was then I realised that there was only one washroom between 16 pilgrims both male and female. The washroom had only one wash basin, one toilet cubicle and two showers. As I stood there still half asleep, clutching my wash-bag and towel waiting for the guy to finish shaving, the thought suddenly struck me – the fountain in the plaza! So I headed off down to the plaza in my pyjamas and washed in the fountain. Later, I needed to wash my teeth and there was a lady doing her face at the only basin, so it was off to the fountain again. Luckily, when I needed to go to the toilet, the only cubicle was free!
Now to breakfast, which was a feast – the best breakfast on the Camino de Santiago if not in all of Spain? It was served buffet style and included juices, fruit, muesli, boiled eggs, cheeses, cold meats, yogurts, a selection of breads with tea and coffee. At the breakfast table, I joked about washing in the fountain but after such a fine breakfast and such outstanding hospitality, one could not really complain about the inadequate washroom.
That morning was rainy and overcast as I set out for Los Arcos with the 3 Irish ladies. We had to don the rain gear again after so many beautiful sunny days. The route from Villamayor to Los Arcos traverses an isolated area with no villages or houses and no water for 12 kms. The long and dusty road stretched on into the far and distant horizon. The camino proceeds along farm tracks through uninhabited vineyards and pine woods to the remote Portillo de las Cabras (The Goat’s Pass).

Los Arcos

Entering Los Arcos, the pilgrim is welcomed by an indoor rest area with seating. There are dispensers offering drinks and snacks as well as information on the camino and the local pilgrim’s hostels.
Los Arcos is a compact crossroads town and it has 3 pilgrim’s hostels. My first impression of the place was that it was a bit ramshackle and down at heel. Now it was Sunday and in Spain, most businesses close on Sunday, which is not like here (Ireland) where Sunday has become like any other day and we have surrendered our traditional family and rest day to the forces of greed and commercialism. We made our way to the only bar open in town, which was at the Hotel Monaco. We found ourselves in a very noisy, crowded and smoky bar. One thing that I find disgusting about Spain is that they are still allowed to smoke in bars and restaurants not like in Ireland and the UK. They also have a filthy habit of throwing all the litter on the bar floor for somebody else to sweep up. But anyway in the midst of all this chaos, we managed to order some refreshment.
The 3 Irish ladies were planning to continue on to Torres del Rio, a further 7 kms. As it was a rainy day, I decided to stay in Los Arcos for the night and continue on to Torres del Rio tomorrow. The Irish ladies were flying back to Ireland on Tuesday and they needed to be in Logroño on Monday night. Kathleen and Noreen were to walk on to Torres del Rio, while Anne was to take the bus. I helped them to find the bus stop in Los Arcos and to check on the time of the bus. I then parted company with the 3 Irish pilgrims, wishing them Buen Camino.
I decided to spend the night at Albergue La Fuente – Casa de Austria, which seemed to be the best hostel in Los Arcos. It turned out to be a slightly hippy kind of place with a lot of colourful artwork, graffiti, parrots and welcomes in many languages including Irish – Céad Míle Fáilte! The guy at the desk did not have much of a personality and the place lacked any kind of atmosphere. Most of the people staying there were younger males and nobody spoke to anybody.
That afternoon, I had a walk around Los Arcos to see the sights. The local cemetery has the following inscription over its portal: Yo Que Fui, Lo Que Tu Eres, Tu Seras Lo Que Soy – ‘You are what I once was, and you will be what I am now’. As I wandered around the town centre, I came across an ATM, which I decided to use as I was down to my last €10. I inserted my debit card into the machine, but as soon as it started to go in, I realised that it did not feel right. I tried to pull the card out again but I could not retrieve it. The ATM had swallowing my debit card and nothing was happening. I have been using ATM cards since the 1980s and this was the first time that my card had been swallowed – and it had to happen in Spain! All I could do at this stage was to call into the bank the following morning and get my card back. Banks in Spain open at 8.30 AM, so it should not interfere too much with my travel plans.
That evening, the splendid 12th century church Iglesia de Santa Maria de Los Arcos – the Church of St. Mary of the Arches was opened for the pilgrim’s mass revealing the impressive Spanish baroque interior. After the mass, the priest called the few pilgrims present to the altar for the pilgrim’s blessing. Afterwards, he greeted each pilgrim individually and enquired as to their nationality. We also had our passports stamped before leaving the church. I must admit that the pilgrim’s mass and blessing was the only good feature of Los Arcos and I would not include the place among the highlights of my Camino. As all the restaurants were closed, there was no place to have dinner, so I had to make do with a beer and a couple of sausage rolls in a local bar.

Day 12 – Los Arcos to Torres del Rio

The following day – Monday October 13th – the day the walking ended – what a relief! Anyway, I was down at the bank in Los Arcos– Caja De Navarra - first thing to collect my debit card that was swallowed by the ATM the previous day. The guy in the bank brought out a fistful of cards, but mine was not among them. He explained to me in Spanish that he could not get the card out of the ATM and that he would have to wait for a technician to come out and it would be tomorrow – mañana! I explained that I was a pilgrim on the Camino de Santiago and that I would not be in Los Arcos tomorrow. He asked me where I was staying that night and when I told him that I would be in Torres del Rio, he said that he would send on my card to the branch of Caja de Navarra in Torres del Rio. That sounded great, but I had my doubts. Luckily, I had my credit card, so I was able to draw some cash at another ATM in the town. The lessons to be learned from that episode is to never let one’s supply of cash run too low and of course to have a second card as a backup.
After all that, I was on my way again walking along through farmland with the village of Sansol directly ahead on the horizon. After resting a while in Sansol, I took a ramble around the village and took some photos. From Sansol, the way crosses the N111 and down a steep ravine to a stone bridge and into the village of Torres del Rio.

Torres del Rio

Torres del Rio is the quintessential pilgrim’s village and there is a real medieval feel to its age old steep and winding streets. I followed the signs through the village to Albergue Casa Mari. It was just 12 midday when I arrived at Casa Mari after a 3 hour walk of 7 kms. I was as usual, the first pilgrim to check in that day. Casa Mari is run by a middle aged Spanish lady called Mari who lives nearby. The first impression one gets is that the place is very well run and spotlessly clean. She has a full range of coin operated dispensers where one can buy sandwiches, snacks, hot and cold drinks as well as ready to cook meals. At the rear of the house, there are two terraces where pilgrims can sit and relax in the sunshine or dry their clothes. From the upper terrace, fine views may be had of the village and the surrounding countryside. There are adequate and separate washrooms and toilets for men and women. I would rate Casa Mari as one of the best pilgrim’s hostels that I stayed in.
After a shower and something to eat, I began my exploration of this tranquil village which is a classic pilgrim’s halt. Torres del Rio is best known for its exquisite 12th century temple – Iglesia de Santo Sepulcro that is linked with the Knights Templar, the protectors of pilgrims on the road to Santiago in medieval times. The lofty cupola with its cross ribbed vault forming an 8 sided star is particularly notable. The church has perfect acoustics and the afternoon that I was there, a German choir came to sing and their singing could be heard all over the village.
Later that afternoon, the pilgrims began arriving at Casa Mari. Every pilgrim who checked in immediately introduced themselves to the other pilgrims, which was a complete contrast to the unfriendly atmosphere that prevailed at the hostel in Los Arcos.
That evening, we all met in a restaurant called Casa Lili for the traditional pilgrim’s dinner. Around the table that evening there were pilgrims from Belgium, France, Germany, Austria, Japan, Sweden, Spain and of course Ireland! There was this man who spoke with a very posh English accent and I immediately presumed that he was English. He assured me that he was actually French, but that he had attended university in England. One certainly can meet some very interesting people on the Camino de Santiago.

Day 13 – Torres del Rio to Logroño

The following morning, I got up at the usual time of 7AM and made my way to the kitchen/dining area in order to prepare some breakfast. As switched on the light in the dining-room, I could not believe my eyes . . . there was this guy stretched out asleep on the dining-room table. He started to rise up from the table and I apologised for the intrusion. He was the French pilgrim with the posh English accent. I asked why he had to sleep on a table as there were plenty of beds and he said that there was a smell of insecticide in his room and he could not sleep there.
I then breakfasted, packed and said adios to Mari. I then made my way to the local branch of Caja de Navarra in Torres del Rio to enquire about my missing debit card. The guy at the bank knew nothing about my card. He did ring the branch in Los Arcos, but