Day 6 - slept in Puenta La Reina - July 3

Up at 8am, out of the hotel by 9am, with Dee who came to wake me. She had a package to mail for Robin and I had mine so we headed to the post office. Easy directions from the concierge but difficult to find, with all the curvy streets, foreign words, and city bustle. We passed it a couple of times, not realizing Correos is the Spanish name for La Poste. Finally inside we were greeted with the usual kind of rudeness the service people continue to display. It makes Dee furious but I don't mind too much. I figure I'm a pilgrim here on their land, let them be. We finally left the post office in Pamplona around 10am, and to think we made it all the way to Puenta La Reina tonight and partied, what a day!

Dee and I left Pamplona together and found tea and coffee at a cafe on the outskirts of town. Once we were fortified, we walked past the University and up to the Knights of Templar alberge and the 12th century Romanesque church in Cizur Menor. She was having aching feet and told me to go on ahead. My Compeed was working like another miracle, and after my lovely night's sleep, I was ready to tackle the mountain. There was a huge incline today, from 400 meters to 800 meters and back to 400 meters down the other side of it. She assured me it was fine to go ahead and so I did. I started on a long, dirt road through the meadow and up the mountain. I felt great in my new clothes and out there on my own again and I thought to myself, the Camino already feels like a pilgrimage.

I am getting stronger and I have more courage than I thought. I am shedding my things. Even if I think I can do anything, I still have to prepare for it.  All of these thoughts kept running through my head but I find that I can't really focus on any one too long because I have to focus on the world outside of me. Ahead of me I can see a range of hills and a steep climb up, to then pass through a settlement of wind turbines looming in the distance. I can see the windmills next to the big landmark of the day, the Hill of Forgiveness (Alto del Perdon), with a series of large wrought iron sculptures of medieval pilgrims, heads bent to the west wind.

It is ironic that on the way up, all one can do is look down, in every effort to avoid as many rocks as possible. There are rocks of every nature: you have the embedded ones with jagged edges that stick out leeringly; you have the large loose ones that give way and roll underneath each time you angle down on it wrong; you have the smaller rounded ones hiding, that if you happen to step on it with the bullseye of your big toe bone, you are limping for an hour; you have the pebbles that lie beside the tractor grades caked dry in the mud; and let us not forget the shales of granite jettisoning out of the earth. It takes a dedicated pilgrim to actually stop and look up and around now and then.

The climb up provided stunning views of Pamplona behind me. I looked behind and I knew, I had completed the first hurdle in my mind - getting over the Pyrenees mountains and through Pamplona. Once I crested the summit, I could see the view west over the Arga valley and all of the villages I would be passing through became visible far below.  I thought to myself "wow, now I know what it is like to climb up one side of a mountain, climb down the other, and then walk through a huge valley." I met up with a few 'tourist pilgrims' they called themselves, Spaniards from a nearby town just out for the day with their friends. I also met Diego from Mexico.  The climb down was a very steep descent and my legs were crying. The loose boulders were so frightful I had to take a picture of them! My feet, oh my poor feet, and my ankles, I had a new pain. My calves had shin splints, and my thighs were burning, they've never known this kind of workout before. And my ass, I was starting to feel muscles I didn't even know existed. And to think I wanted to do this barefoot (what was I thinking!).

Once I reached the bottom of the crest, the land opened up and became rich red earth and almond trees. The path wound around a ridge running parallel to a quiet country road that led to the town of Uterga. I headed for the first little grocery store, bought wine and saucisson and proceeded to the picnic table to take off my shoes. It was here I met Philip from Spain and had a lovely talk. He took off and I waited for Dee to arrive. When she came, we rested longer and then walked through the town by the local Camino del Perdon alberge and then down into the valley. We still had 7 kilometers to go if we were going to make it to Puenta La Reina. We were going on a suggestion by Roger from Belgium to stay at a particular alberge at the far end of town so we'd rendez vous there. I had the faster pace today and off we went.

The small town of Obanos was beautifully ornate. There was a large church and a cloister in the historic village, and all along the roads and sidewalks were scallop shells marking The Way of the Camino.  It was a gorgeous afternoon walk but totally painful. Many pilgrims along The Way were starting to limp and hobble along. I kept running into the Irish family of a Dad and two daughters and one of the daughters had a bad knee. I walked with her awhile and by the time I got to the bridge in Puenta La Reina, once again I was hobbling in too.

The main alberge in PLR is at the beginning of town, actually I'm noticing that a lot, that the main alberges are at the beginning of town. I saw Anton there and told him Dee and I were going to the other one but he was so tired he couldn't walk a step further. I shuffled through the narrow street and admired all of the shops and cafes along The Way. It must be post-siesta, I thought as people were out and about having a good time. Then after what seemed another couple of kilometers, I reached the end and the bridge out of town. There I was told to cross over and climb up the hill and veer to the right. "Keep going, it gets really steep, and keep veering to the right" is what Roger said. So that's what I did. What a challenge, it was so steep I was literally taking the smallest steps you've ever seen and angling my walking sticks for support! Finally I arrive and there is a large, modern building with a swimming pool. I walked into the big main entrance and dining hall, and checked in with the warden. He spoke French so I was able to communicate. I paid my 10 Euro for the night and 10 Euro for the meal and set off to find my bed.

The communal dinner was served in the large hall and I sat with Shai from Brooklyn and met Jorge and Brendon from California. I also reconnected with Lauren from Washington. There was a large, loud group of Brazilians there traveling together. Afterwards we all went outside and Jorge started buying bottles of wine. Dee showed up hours later, having first partied with her two new favorite German men, and arrived with Esther and Yenny from Holland. We all sat outside drinking wine and telling stories and that's when we met Guy from Australia and Kathy from Switzerland who, met on the Camino last year and got married, and now live in Sweden. It turned out to be another fun late night and finally the warden insisted we go in and head to bed. It was the first night I arrived at my destination and didn't take a shower, kinda gross I know, but such is the life of the pilgrim.

"We are speeding up our lives and working harder, in a futile attempt to slow down and enjoy it." 
- Paul Hawken

Day 7 - slept in Ayegui - July 4

Up at 6:30, out of the alberge by 7:30am. I took a much needed shower and felt refreshed, even though I'm still experiencing the dry heaves. I didn't have a hangover at all, oh that's right, someone last night said we don't get them because we've got so much oxygen in our blood. Well I was glad about that. What I wasn't glad about was the 3 Euro breakfast that was basically just bread. I decided from then on I would buy my own pastry the day before and just order tea; while the meals fed you and the beds were clean, the pilgrim breakfasts were a rip-off.

We all sort of headed off on our own and met up again in Cirauqui. There was a grocery store open so I took the opportunity to buy a demi-boutellie (half bottle) of wine and some saucisson for lunch later. The path was pretty and peaceful but still going uphill then downhill, it seems you can't go uphill without going downhill and seldom are we ever on flat land. And the rocks are relentless, every now and then this stretch went on pavement but that too proved painful. Thanks to the Compeed, the blister on my left toe was fast healing but my feet, ankles, legs and ass were downright sore. Thankfully I don't have knee problems, I hear that's a real pain for people out here. So, I took it slowly relishing the fact that I was walking through my first vineyards. Somewhere along The Way someone had spray painted "You're in Spain!" It made me smile :)

This part of the journey was breathtakingly beautiful. I went through the picturesque town of Lorca and met up with a few others and stopped for Cava (Spanish sparkling wine). Every little town we walked through today was a quaint village with pilgrim connections, either monasteries or hospitals or medieval buildings or Roman churches, from like the 12th century. Amaze is what Anna and I would say. Amazeballs is what Dee would say. Amazing became just amaze. I bypassed the ruins of the ancient hermitage of St. Michael (you know the arcangel), yeah, amaze stuff like that.

The road out was a steep climb on a heavily eroded path before descending into Estrella. I noticed another route option on a big confusing sign, but since I didn't have a guidebook, I stuck with the yellow arrows. Fortified with the knowledge that I had wine and saucisson on my being, I headed to Ayegui, a place that was suggested by someone last night. Just as I was hobbling into Estrella, Lauren from Washington caught up with me, who was also on her last leg. We were standing there resting and trying to rally each other on when Alexis from Scotland comes running along asking if we knew directions to the Hotel. Alexis wasn't doing the whole Camino, in fact she was only doing parts of it, in non-sequential order, and sending her rolling suitcase on each day to the next Hotel she had previously booked. I tried not to judge and I reasoned everyone has their own Camino, but it was tough to empathize with her when we were sacrificing for survival. She flitted away and Lauren and I proceeded to tackle the notorious last three kilometers, which inevitably turned out to be the hardest of the day.

We finally made it to the alberge on the far side of town and lo and behold, there's Shai from Brooklyn, Jorge and Brendon from California, Guy from Australia and Kathy from Switzerland who live in Sweden, Brian from Ireland, and Esther and Yenny from Holland. Dee texted me saying she only made it as far as Estrella. The warden was a very nice, German man named Peter who retired here long ago and has done the Camino 28 times! 12 alone in the holy year! Lauren and I were so spent it was all we could do to listen to the John Denver song he played for his American pilgrims on arrival (I had never heard it before, something about a tomato garden).

Peter the warden showed us around, basically we were in a huge handball gymnasium and the alberge was beneath the court. There was a large room with about 40 single beds in one room (no bunk beds). The whole room was kind of funky but Lauren and I selected our beds and crashed. The showers here were not so good -girls-only but communal, plenty of hot water but it was too hot (it got hotter the longer you had it on, clever I thought). I ventured upstairs to find the restaurant next to the handball court and watched as a group of guys came to play. It was loud, I don't know how Lauren could sleep underneath it! Then I watched a cute couple play handball and by that time dinner was served.

I sat with my usual cast of characters and we toasted to a "Happy 4th of July!" I had to go wake Lauren so she wouldn't miss dinner. It was here I heard that Brian from Ireland was staying in the same fun place last night but he came back late and got locked out for awhile. He also got locked out at the convent in Arres, the town before, almost had to climb a wall until someone took pity on him! These places have rules and curfews. Guy started telling a story about how one time last year, they locked all the pilgrims inside the gate, and the locals went into town for a big wedding or celebration. "That's how some of them think of us," he said, "it's in their culture." After dinner, a group headed down to a large grocery store (supermercado) while I had a check-in call with my Mom and then went to bed. Ever grateful for my ear plugs, in they went. It was my seventh day on the Camino and I walked 24 kilometers today, I was beyond exhausted.

"It's a sad day when you find out that it's not accident, or time, or fortune, but just yourself that kept things from you." 
 - Lillian Hellman

Day 8 - slept in Torres del Rio - July 5

Up at 7am, left alberge by 8am with Lauren heading to Irache and the wine fountain! We first stopped at the cafe by the handball court for coffee and tea and pastries, and wished Yenny from Holland a Happy Birthday (I think he was 54) - he and Esther were headed straight to a hotel for the day and night to celebrate :) It was also Guy from Australia's 50th birthday in a couple of days; he and Kathy planned to celebrate before she would go home early and he would stay to finish the Camino.

It was the usual morning routine: brushing teeth, washing face, dry heaving, forcing myself to eat something, packing up everything, slathering Vaseline all over my feet, and by now I was already over it. But I did it anyway, what else could I do. I thought to myself, this is like my road trip last month to Miami. If I didn't get up and start driving, I'd never get there. No one else was going to do it for me. Same on the Camino, if I didn't get up and start walking every day, I'd never finish it, no one else was going to do it for me. I thought it's like a big metaphor for life. Each day you have to get up and get going and get out there to take care of your business, you never know what you're going to encounter but you've got to do it because no one else is going to do it for you. So on I went.

I had completely forgotten that this morning the walk was leading us to the highlight of the day: The Wine Fountain! One of the wineries (bodegas) cleverly installed a wine fountain at the gate of their grounds and people from all over would visit it and fill up their bottles. I didn't have a spare bottle with me (bad pilgrim, note to self: must always carry some kind of wine bottle on my being!) so I drank from the communal cup while Lauren snapped a photo. Good times!

The path passed by a few fancy hotels and then turned natural again, just like yesterday's path. The first section was dominated by oak trees and pine trees as we winded our way up to the first town. There were magnificent views and as always, my regular companions showed up: butterflies of all colors, bees, and the little swallows, known as sky scissors because they miraculously appear each time you reach a small town and they dart about overhead unlike anything you've ever seen. It's uncanny and I loved it. There were also a lot of snails along The Way. They say that we pilgrims are like snails because we are carrying our homes on our back, and presumably because some of us shuffle along so slowly. I took a picture of one of the beautiful creatures with his pantheistic shell gleaming in the bright sunlight.

Except for the morning mist on the third day, so far we'd been fortunate with the weather but it was turning warm. Apparently there was a heat wave coming through Spain, which made everyone want to get up as early as possible and get going so as to finish before the afternoon scorching sun. Everyone but me. I didn't want any set rules and I especially didn't want to think about having to get up early every day. The heat doesn't bother me anyway. I wanted to go with the flow, walk as far as I could each day, and see where The Way takes me. But it became clear, I was in the minority.

The object of everyday became the same: Wake up as early and as quietly as possible, walk as far as you can avoiding as many rocks as possible, find food, water and shelter, then tend to your feet and dirty clothes, and finally sleep. It was actually turning out to be a much more social event than I would've ever realized. In fact I hadn't had the chance to do yoga again and I barely had time to make notes in my journal. As I was starting to realize, the mornings are the worse but then it gets better as the day goes on, by the afternoon I feel pretty good again (except for my poor feet!), and by night time we're all eating and drinking and settled in, it's great. It was the opposite of my life off of the Camino where I like mornings, I am full of energy and creativity and I get a lot done but as the day goes by, the stresses and strains of life can bog you down so you're exhausted by night. Like I said, here it was the opposite.


By now my left blister had healed but a new ghastly one was forming on my right big toe. I immediately applied a new Compeed and prayed for the best. After the wine fountain it was straight uphill to Villamayor de Monjardin, a lovely town with ruins and a splendid view of the surrounding countryside. The next town was Cruce, where pilgrims coming from Luquin merged in (there are nine main Camino routes one can take to get to Santiago), and then a long stretch of uninhabited countryside of farmland and vineyards and olive trees. There was no shade so when I finally reached the end and turned a corner, I joined dozens of others who congregated in the only forest setting around to rest and refill. I hung out with Brian from Ireland for awhile and took a sip of wine from Shai's water bottle full of wine. There were a group of Italian lady pilgrims who were all flutter over how good it felt to use "Shai's stick." We were cracking up.

Then, somewhere between there and the next main town, I got lost. I missed an arrow and ended up crossing over a main road and heading into a town when a local woman in a car pulled over and said "NO" and directed me back up the hill. I retraced my steps, mad with myself, and eventually found the Camino again. It was a good extra five kilometers out of my way. Must pay better attention, I told myself. The next main town was where most people were planning to stay: Los Arcos. I was walking through open country and remote vineyards. There was little shade but each small town you walked through was absolutely idyllic. Everywhere there are fountains to refresh and hydrate the body, and in one of the ancient cloisters, there were fish circling the stone fountain, which is symbolic of Christian life. Los Arcos was a sleepy town, with the usual square called Calle Mayor, and as I walked through it, I couldn't help feeling like I was in another time and space. The local church, which was embellished in the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries had added to the original Romanesque architecture, Gothic, Baroque and Classical elements, and it looked a bit hodge-podged but somehow retained an overall harmony. The bell-tower and peaceful cloisters were right out of a novel, and the sumptuous interior had a fine statue of Santiago Peregrino. I ambled through town and came across Jenn and Phyllis of Connecticut and Esther #1 from Holland. It was already nearing 6pm but I told them I was going on another 10 kilometers to get to Torres del Rio. I gave them all a hug, filled my water again, and headed out alone on a natural path of dirt tracks through farmland.

Once I could finally see the town of Torres del Rio in the distance, I knew I would make it. "I can do this" I thought, until I reached the gates and it was straight uphill into the town from there (why do they do this to us!). I climbed and climbed until I reached the first alberge and there were some of my people, lazing out front drinking beers as I hobbled up. They were genuinely impressed and started applauding me. Jorge stood up and said congratulations and promptly handed me a glass of wine. I think many of them underestimated me. I ended up walking 28 kilometers today! As soon as I saw Anna from Denmark I gave her a big hug and she told me she was staying here and the showers were good, so I checked in and got the last bed. I was beneath Diana from Hungary who had a heat-rash on the back of her legs, like many pilgrims from northern countries had suddenly gotten. We were the only ones in the dorm so I told her to apply the aloe gel she had in her first aid kit, and take aspirin and rest, and find a Farmacia tomorrow. I left to shower -decent shower here, private and it locked - and then changed and headed down for dinner.

I spent most of the night talking to Anna, we both had so much fun, and she was telling me about how she had to help an injured pilgrim who fell down the side of a mountain and wait with him and his friend for an ambulance to come! She also told me she got a job offer back in Denmark so we toasted and celebrated! She and I spent time before dinner talking to Marty from Australia, the "most fascinating person" I met on the trip. He was handsome in a rugged kind of way, in his 50s, in excellent shape, and happily married with 2 kids (the wife and kids had gone on to do the last 100 km to Santiago and then go on another trip while he finished the full Camino).


He was telling us that one of his goals is to scale the seven summits, explaining how expensive it is ($50k to do Kiliminjaro; $80k to do Everest) so he spent four weeks at a base camp to see if he could even handle it. While there in the first week, he saw one guy cough up part of his actual lung (the sherpas sent him home) and by the fourth week he said he was so constipated because of the lack of oxygen that his organ functions were beginning to shut down. At that point the sherpas gave him a long spoon and said this, or go home. We were like "what, a long spoon, what did you have to do with it..." Well, it turns out he had to scoop out his own feces! We were like "what, oh my God, why, why would anyone want to put their body through such extremes" and he said it's all about the challenge. Forever changed, Anna and I thanked Marty for his stories and we three headed off to our pilgrim menu with the other usual suspects: Jorge and Brendon from California, Guy from Australia and Kathy from Switzerland living in Sweden, Brian from Ireland... and Lauren from Washington and Anton from Ireland even though the last two were staying at the only other alberge in town.

Dinner was FUN that night, we took over the top floor of a cute restaurant and had excellent service, and were served some kind of garlic soup, beef entrecote with fries, ice cream, and you guessed it, all the bread you could eat and wine you could drink. They would literally put an entire bottle of wine in front of each pilgrim! I love Europe. The conversation was lively :) Anna flat out said "you Americans have perfected the art of using a lot of words to say nothing" and she was mainly referring to Lauren who yes, is kinda loud and uses a lot of filler words. Young Brendon sat across from me and was fascinated with my blonde hair, and Guy talked my ear off about how he wished he had half the confidence and optimism that I do. I engaged with him but called him out on some of his limited thinking and he liked the challenge. Everyone was interacting. We finished dinner, I had a nightcap out front with Anna, and then headed to my bunk. Once I was back in the dorm I discovered I was sleeping next to Brendon (which is always kind of weird to sleep right next to a guy you half-way know by now and you sometimes walk with on The Way) so I decided to get my things ready for the next morning. I laid everything out, put in my ear plugs and wished everyone a good sleep.

"Your daily life is your temple and your religion." 
- Kahlil Gibran