"I can see clearly now.." Belorado to Burgos

What a difference a bit of sun makes. A few days ago we toiled into Santa Domingo and all we could see ahead were ponchoed pilgrims hunched under heavy packs. In the sun the greetings of "Buon camino" as we pass people now seem more heartfelt and enthuisiastic. We´ve done 75 km in three days and we´re starting to enjoy the walking now that we´re healed up.

We did have a night in an old monastery in St Juan de Ortega where we shared a cold dorm with about 80 snoring pilgrims. Plenty of showers but no hot water and they still charged 5 Eu per night. The place closed at 10.00pm so we only saw the first half of the European Cup Final. The only bar in the village closed at 10.00 anyway (you could choose a variant on black pudding or an omlette for the meal-Jill would have loved it-divorce would have been imminent. Irv was so unhappy that he wanted out so much that I found him loading his rucksack by the light of his headlamp in the pre-dawn which is very unlike him. He kept muttering "medieval, bluddy medieval mun".

The walk to Burgos was great. We passed Neolithic stones, stopped to look at storks nesting and stopped to admire the landscape. Just lovely.

The good weather makes it easier to stop and talk to other pilgrims and we´ve met some great people. A smashing Kiwi couple who I just talked rugby with (not feet related!). A young guy from Cork who had to do 32km a day to keep on schedule. He only had a 5kg pack but at the expense of not having packed what some people consider as basics (sleeping bag and underpants). We´ve belted out "Sospan Fach" on the request from a couple of Ozzies and demanded "Waltzing Matila" in return. We¨ve even been wished "Iechyd da" by a Swedish lady (who had more than a hint of the Bridgette Neilson about her-she was about 2 foot taller than me) who had lived and worked in Cardiff and had taken Welsh lessons. Irv on left.

We reached Burgos and found a pension for 18 eu each per night which has two double beds, a bath and water that will take the skin off your hand. Never mind the Cathedral, the numerous bronzes and palaces (one where Isabella of Spain met Chris Colombus before his second trip). Just give me a soft bed and a hot bath.

"Waiting for the sun" Logrono to Belorado

The very basic things in life become very important on this sort of excursion. What´s the weather going to do, where am I going to sleep, how hilly is the next bit etc. But always the conversation turns to feet. We had breakfast with a nice American lady and she had a Masters in Linguistics, as has Irv and in which I have an interest. After a few minutes on the topic of lingusitics we´d reverted to the feet conversation. The good news is that Irv´s feet are good and we´ve picked the pace up. Irv is now the blister guru of the Camino and his purchases of medical aids for his feet are reflating the Spanish economy. This is a shot of Irv´s feet in recovery mode so you can imagine them at their worst..

The weather is still a bit off and with not wanting to overdo the walking and put Irv´s feet back into A&E status we´ve done a few shortish walks (I´ve also started to get a pain in my right thight so I´ve been keen to give it a bit of recovery time). Logrono to Ventosa (about 13km) Ventosa to Azofra (about 17km) and Azofra to St Domingo (about 17km). We´re passing through the Rioja region so walking through vineyards with hills in distance and very pretty it is too (but cold).

We had a bit of sun in Azofra and sat in the courtyard of the hostel (2 bed-room a bit on the young offenders institution model but only 7 euros each) eating sarnies of sardine right out of the tin, cheese, rioja and oranges then sat with feet in the freezing cold little pool-fountain. Just like putting the feet in the pools at Pont Neath Vaughan. Five minutes and all feeling is gone. Lovely.

Last night we stayed at Santa Domingo. It was so cold we payed 5 Euro to have a look around the cathedral just to stay out of the wind. They´ve got a live rooster and chicken in a sort of gilded cage in the Cathedral in remembrance of a miracle that happened there. Seemed a bit odd for a lad brought up in the Methodist faith but there you go.

Today has been the best day. We have fallen behind but as the foot situation looked better we decided on an early start and by 11.30am (including two stops) we´d done 23km and were all set up in a double room in a posh hostel in Belorado. It even has a pool. I asked the lady if it was "caliente" and she said it was "muy caliente" but her smile told me it was anything but. We walked in sunshine and to mark the change in weather we swapped our normal elevenses of coffee, a Spanish brandy and a codeine tablet for a beer and a tablet. It makes us go like the roadrunner for about 2 hours. We hope to do the same sort of distances for the next two days then have a break in Burgos.

When we walked in fields of gold (Ortega to Logronio(

Someone told me that Spain is the most mountainous country in Europe and I believe them. Undulating is the word. We're settling into a routine of walking about 20 km and stopping around 2.00 pm. At that time we can normally still get a room for two in an albuergue or a small hotel rather than sleep in one of the big dorms in the hostels. Snoring and people getting up to leave at 5.30 am tends to disrupt the sleep patterns. We're paying 13 to 15 euros each whereas we'd be paying 8 each in a dorm.

The little hostel at Lorca was great although we did have to share our room with a late arrival, a young man from Brazil. We had breakfast looking at the other hostel across the Calle Mayor or Main Road, about 10 foot away. Breakfast is normally about 3 euros and it's great to start the day on a full tank.

We're finding the walking hard, especially on the Roman road after the bridge at Puenta la Reina and Irv's feet are still badly blistered. We've been very lucky to meet lovely people from all over the world, particularly the ladies from Galway who have helped us along with a mixture of humour and Captain Morgan's spiced rum from their flasks.

Our best Spanish night was spent in Los Arcos. Their feast day started on Friday night with fireworks. All the local lads were dressed in white with a red sash and





all getting a bit of Dutch courage down them for the bull run the next day. The whole Basque thing is still very strong even though we're now very close to the end of Navarre.

The walk into Viana was spectacular. Across the swirling fields of corn the Picos were doing a fair impression of the Cairngorms. No Andalusian heat for us here as we walked into a freezing wind. Unfortunately Irv's feet have now given up and after 11km we're been forced to stop in Logronio, the regional capital of Rioja (not a bad place to be stuck for a day. Photo of door knocker for John Rendle's collection.

Very best anniversary wishes to my beautiful wife. 1979 was a great year for me. I would also like to thank the young lady in the hostel for helping me to download the photos.

The rain in Spain (Pamplona to Estella)

We knew the day out of Pamplona would be tough as there would be a long climb to the top of the Alto de Perdon. The way climbs to 800 metres from about 400. As we approached the summit was hidden by cloud which we hoped would clear so that the vistas back into the Pamplona basin to the north and down toward Oterga in the south and beyond would be open to us. After a good hike and lots of short stops ("poco, poco" as I´ve been advised) there were the 14 sculptures of pilgrims down the ages. A guy we met selling drinks reckoned there were about 200 pilgrims coming through each day at this time of the season which swells to around 400 a day. This means that in the summer months there must be about 14,000 people strung out along the way.

We´d met a few people along the way who seemed to be walking at a similar pace to us and it really does help on the uphill bits. Some of the people who are really struggling but still keep going are an inspiration. We´ve met two guys from the deep south and one of them is finding it tough but each day he´s out there ready for the off. Makes you feel a bit of a wimp. Well, we looked down on Uterga where we´d booked a room. The accom is either in albergues run by the church and local councils which tend to be big and institutional (bell rings at 6.00 am and lights out 10.30) where snoring and noise is a problem and private albergues who offer a mix of bunk rooms and private rooms. We tend to go for the latter as they are still pretty cheap (under 20 Euro pppn) but we´ve stayed in small bunk rooms for 7 Euro pppn. So far so good and the one in Uterga was clean and quiet with a 10 Euro pilgrim meal.

The next day it rained and our spirits dropped a bit. We´ve planned to do 24Km a day but we´re only doing about 19. Never mind. Smelling the flowers and watching the birds. Lots of nightingales and griffon vultures.

Into Spain



Well the real journey starts here at St Jean Pied de Port in the French Pyrenees. After a long rail journey from Bayonne we found ourselves getting of the little train with dozens of other pilgrims all intent on getting away the next morning. It´s a bit like the UN on the train and we sat by Canadians, an Aussie and some wild French bloke who had a very old bike and a bed roll who were all travelling the Camino. We got a bed in a pilgrim hostel and as soon as light broke we were all up getting our stuff together.



There are two ways to the top. The Route Napoleon goes over the mountain and the other goes through forests and up the main road at points. We knew it was going to be hard going doing 24 plus km on our first day. At least when I walked to Rome I had 500 miles of France to walk and get fit before taking on the Jura. This is a no messing about day one, straight up. It was OK until lunchtime when it started to rain and get colder. The way dips down to river level off the side of valleys then climbs back up muddy slopes to regain the high ground. I´d recommend doing it over two days. You can´t imagine our delight when Laura the young American we´d met in France offered us a room in the apartment she´d rented in the nice hotel at Roncesvalles. We ended up staying two days because Irv´s feet had blistered very badly and there was no way we could carry on.



Since then the walking has been much easier (ie mostly flat or down). We did 22 km to Zubiri and came to this medieval bridge just outside the town. If you´ve seen the film "The Way" it´s the bridge from which Martin Sheen dropped his backpack into the river. Irv´s feet held out pretty well and we had a great room for 13 euors each. The next day was a walk from Zubiri to Pamplona, a distance of about 23km with only one large climb. As it was a Sunday the pilgrim walkers were joined by locals which made the way seem a bit over-crowded, not at all like the Via Francigena. Having said that we´ve started to get to know people who walk at about the same speed as us which is great.

We thought we´d cracked the walk but the distance from the city outskirts to the old centre is about 6km and it was hard going for both of us. We took a small room in the old town for 40 euros and have decided to spend two nights in this beautiful city to recover. It´s where they hold the bull running and it´s a city with a rich history ( the old capital city of the independent nation of Navarre). I have been mostly eating tapas and feel like I´ve reached Spain proper. 















Lost in France

This is a bit out of order but I had some photos of the begining of the journey I thought I´d share.

The real start of the journey was dawn over the channel on our way to Le Havre. I´d slept on the floor in a sleeping bag for the first time in years so was starting to feel a bit like a pilgrim again. Waking early I was rewarded with a strong French coffee and the sight of the sun rising from the depths of the Atlantic.

When we got to the Charente Maritime my walking companion Irv, who I´ve known for 30 odd years from the I.O.W days, had a few things to sort out before we trained down to Bayonne then on to St Jean Pied de Port for the start of the camino. He´s got a lovely home there which looks out over open country. I was happy to spend a few days there walking the country lanes around Cognac to get my feet really toughened up for the daily 15 miles. I met some interesting walking companions in Neuvique le Chateau.

Spring was much more advanced in the Charente with lilacs everywhere and Judas trees in full bloom. The familiar palette of azur, deep greens and bright yellow was a real contrast to the colours of the England I´d left behind.

"...I´ll give you shelter from the storm."

Sorry no photos as the desktop here is very old and I can´t connect my camera.

Yesterday we came over the Col after a really hard slog from St Jean Pied de Port of 24km hard uphill. The day started with sunshine through meadows and ended with rain and cloud in forests and on roads. We were very wet, footsore and unhappy pilgrims when we did the last three km downhill into Roncevalles. We didn´t feel like a night in a pilgrim hostel but the hotels were full (I´m taking against wealthy pilgrims who have the whole thing orgainsed by travel companies and get their packs carried by bus to the next hotel).

We bumped into an American pilgrim we´d met the day before in France and she asked us if we wanted to share the cost of an apartment in a very smart hotel. We were ecstatic. I´d forgotten the fact that lows like the Marianas trench are often followed by Alpine highs on this type of trip. Irv and I shared a twin room with it´s own bathroom with use of lounge and kitchen for 26euros a head. Difficult to describe the feeling.