Pamplona to Logroño - I need to write a book

To say that this is not what I pictured for my Camino adventure is an understatement.  It’s got me thinking I need to write a book - “My Camino, My Way - the tale of a middle-aged woman’s twice thwarted Camino.”  Along with quirky anecdotes and observations, I will give advice on the best buses to take, where to loiter until it’s time to check in to your hotel and how to make the most of being the first into town every day!

On the Sunday we left Pamplona, I was determined to walk.  It was a 24k day, my foot had settled somewhat into a dull throb with each step, so Rach and I set off at 8am ready for the day ahead.

With my dodgy tummy, I had only been able to stomach 2 slices of watermelon for breakfast, but I took 2 bananas for the walk, and had plenty of hydrolite on board should I need some further sustenance.  We would also pass through a couple of tiny villages on the way, where there was usually a “tienda” open for pilgrims to purchase food and drinks.

The walk out of Pamplona took us through the University of Navarra grounds along concrete paths and onto roads that eventually took us off-road and walking through the rural countryside.  Our half-way point today was the Alto del Perdón at 750m, so over 12ish km we gained about 310m.  Not a hard slog, but a good uphill walk the entire time.   

The countryside is peppered with old manor houses and castles at what feels like every turn.  The foot was holding up ok until about the 8k mark, when the heel went rock hard and each step is like weight-bearing into a heavily stone-bruised heel.  A quick rest, more anti-inflammatory meds and magnesium on board, and just before the crest I stopped for another drink.  There was a lovely American, Julie, a speech pathologist, resting on the benches who complimented my hair, and as happens constantly along the camino, we got chatting.  I told her about my foot, how much I was struggling with missing my family and not walking like I had intended and she offered me some really sound advice.  She said to let the feelings flow, to set an intention each day, and work just to fulfil that intention.  Her intention that day was to think of her husband as she walked.  She acknowledged the toll of the last few years on healthcare workers and their families and we talked about doing what we can with what we have.

At the top of the hill, as we approached the iron sculptures of pilgrims set along the ridge, Julie made a point of taking my camera and snapping some pics of me.  She said you may not want those photos now, but you might in future, and she of course was right.  On the ridge above the trail it is dotted with wind turbines - there are so many of them across the country, it’s great to see them embracing this alternative fuel source.

At the summit we also had the chance to see the forecasted storm and rainy weather that was starting to roll across the countryside.  The descent back down to our starting altitude was done in just 2km, with some steep downhill on loose stones (not gravel, big rocks!)  The wind began to blow and the rain set in, making it a slow descent to ensure ankles remained intact.  Some sections had oversized step-downs that were actually more difficult to manoeuvre than the rocks themselves.  Add in the rain, and it made for a challenging couple of kms.  

The last 9km was relatively uneventful, making our way through 3 villages before finishing in Puente La Reina.  I walked the last 5km in my sandals in the hope of easing the heel spur and plantar (no luck) and walked the last 2km with a nice Canadian named Vincent.  It is always interesting to talk to people along the way about their camino, their motivation and how they are finding the journey.  And it is so easy to share our stories - there are many fellow pilgrims along the way who have learned about our family’s journey over the last 2 and a half years, and I’ve learned about some of the hardships that others have faced.

We had a lovely hotel in Puente La Reina, built in one of the old buildings.   It was cosy buy comfy (think a monk’s cell with ensuite!) and after a visit to the market (a daily occurrence to get supplies for the next day of walking), we had a walk around the town, including the medieval bridge out of town that was the start of the next day’s walk.

Dinner was the absolute highlight of the day, eating at La Conrada.  We have found in Spain that traditionally there are three courses offered for a set price, with multiple options for each course.  This meal we decided to order off the menu and we chose Patatas Bravas (Spicy Potatoes) and Ensalada con Atún (Tuna Salad) to share, and I chose the Pulpo a la Plancha (Octopus) and Rach had a spicy sausage dish - Chistorra a Navarre.  

The pulpo was the best thing I have ever eaten - a tender, smoky-paprika seafood dish with the consistency of chicken breast, but smooth and easy to chew.  The suckers had been baked to the point that they were deliciously crunchy.  While Navarre isn’t the traditional home of the pulpo recipe, they did it proud, and while I’m a bit worried about trying it again and having it disappoint, we have been assured by our fellow walker Benjamin from Hungary, that the pulpo in Galicia is next level.

No walking for me after that long day for three days, so I’ve become an expert bus-taker, and have had ample opportunities to practice my very limited Spanish, including a last minute check that made sure I got off the wrong bus that was headed back to Pamplona from Estella!

Estella was a lovely city, and we have been fortunate that all of our hotels are either on the Camino or a block from, so there is always a flow of pilgrims walking by, making it relatively easy to work out where we are walking.  We stayed right next to the Iglesia de San Miguel.  The one thing you get used to very quickly in Spain is a ringing bell on the half hour and chimes on the hour.  Just like traffic noise in the city, you leant to tune it out pretty quickly.  Dinner in Estella was pate, pan and queso (pate, bread and cheese) from the local supermarket, as I had eaten a restaurant meal at lunch and wasn’t hungry.  Followed that up with a local-made ice-cream (roché flavoured).  

The Spanish can pick the foreigners pretty quickly, as they are the ones eating early, in bed early and up early.  They are also the ones foraging around for something to eat right in the middle of siesta.  Our host in Los Arcos (actually we were in Mues as there were no hotels available in Los Arcos), had us scheduled for a 6.30pm dinner (we have been eating at 8/9pm most nights), and chuckled as she told us that the Spanish eat at 10pm.  This was proven pretty quickly as our hotel was the only bar and restaurant in the town, and the locals were partaking of the hotel’s wares until about 11pm last night.  To be fair, it’s daylight until 8.15pm, so its easy to see why you would eat later.  And the sun doesn’t get up until about 7.45, so breakfasts earlier than 8am are also rare, and are usually only set up for pilgrims leaving hotels to get on the road.

Today’s bus brought me to Logroño, which is right in the middle of the San Mateo Festival.  Fireworks tonight are at 11.00pm and there is a concert that begins at 12!  I lined up in one of the main squares today for approximately 45 minutes for the chance to buy a Chistorra y Jamón en Pan (sausage and bacon on bread) and a bottle of celebratory wine for 3 Euro - I’ll give the Europeans one thing, they know how to queue.

So while the walking has been limited the adventure continues as I eat my way across the countryside.  We are on bikes tomorrow, and leave Logroño on Friday, covering two stages most days to get us across the country a little faster.  I figure I’ll treat this just like I would a Cycle Queensland (without Russell telling me where to go, or Phoebe’s smile at the end of the ride) and it should be all good.

Until then, adios y hasta luego.