Camino de Santiago 2024

Another early morning today, starting out in the dark down the long hill away from Ciraqui. My knees definitely don’t like downhill! Most of the day was spent walking alongside fields and through towns and hamlets, wending our way between    a small river and the Basque mountains. One of today’s highlights was suddenly coming upon Le Fuente de Vino, or Fountain of Wine, which is a well-known stop on the Camino, though I had never heard of it. In addition to the typical water fountain provided for pilgrims, which are often elaborate and beautiful, this fountain also has a spigot for wine. You are kindly asked to please not take a jugful, as there are only 100 liters a day provided and you should think of the pilgrims behind you on the path. Neither Bob not I could conceive of doubling back or walking ahead and returning with the plastic cups given out at the wine museum. So we untied the Camino shell from our pack and filled it with a pull from the fount. Wine flows quite freel...

We’re settling into a daily routine. Wake up at 6:00 AM and pack up our backpacks.  Tape up injured parts of our legs and feet and head out the door before the sun rises. Walk 2-3 miles until we get to the next town, when we stop for breakfast—cafe con leche, fresh squeezed orange juice, and  an  egg/potato tortilla or a pastry. In the small towns that pop up every few miles, we sometimes go into stores like pharmacies or “supermarkets,” which are little convenience stores. A little after noon, after walking about 10 miles, we eat lunch. Then another 2-5 miles of the most difficult walking and we check into our next place. After we get our Camino passports stamped (more on this later), we shower, hand-wash the clothes we just wore and hang them out to dry, and then find a place to chat with other peregrinos (Camino pilgrims). Then a dinner, which is usually soup or salad, a main course, and a dessert, and then get ready for bed. The early walking part of the day is tranqu...

  Luckily, I’m still here on the Camino. I checked my pack ahead to the next stop so I wasn’t carrying an extra 25 pounds today. I also bought kinesio tape and a brace for my knee. That, plus minimizing the amount that I bent my knee, means that I made it to the end of today fairly pain free. Of course, now my right knee is very angry at the extra abuse it’s taken. So tape on both of them tomorrow. And checking my pack ahead again. But it was worth it for the amazingly peaceful walk today. Up and over a few hills, through tiny medieval villages, past our first olive trees and vineyards and windmills. We climbed up the cobblestone streets of one such village to a lovely albergue where the charming owner donned a green toque to serve us all a delicious vegetarian dinner in the old wine cellar of the home. Met up with the Irish brothers again, and met an Aussie living in Boston (newly retired) and a woman from Huntington Beach who’d just come from Croatia (yes, also newly retired). T...

What a day! We started out early, headlamps on, around 7:00 am. We needed to stop in Pamplona for a few things, but wanted to stay somewhere on the other side of the city. After a bit of scrambling, we secured 4 beds in an albergue in a little town about 7 miles or so outside Pamplona. Seemed like a reasonable plan the night before. Unfortunately, all the rough scrambling down into Zubiri the day before caught up with us. By Pamplona, Bob and I were both hobbling around in so much pain, him his feet, me my right knee, that we really were only able to focus on when we could take more ibuprofen. By the time we made in up the hill into Zariquiegui, we’d been walking for 10 hours. My knee was so swollen and painful, I was sure I was going to need to go back to Pamplona the next day to see a doctor. In the meantime, we enjoyed hanging out with two Irish brothers who are here celebrating the 60th birthday and retirement for one of them. Lots of retirement celebrations this time of year on th...

We want to strike a balance between over-planning and winging it. We booked the first two stops in advance because of the crowds and limited accommodations, but after that, there are enough options that you should be able to walk until you feel done in, and then you stop in the next town and check in. That worked great in Burguette, but not so well in Larrasoaña. We were tired when we got there, and spent an hour trying to find a place that wasn’t full or closed for the season. We finally found a public hostel (albergue) in the small town. There was only one place to eat—the town market—but the owner made us a delicious chicken meal. It all worked out. Still, we started booking reservations the day before so that we don’t have to wander around on sore feet.

 The French route of the Camino de Santiago commonly starts in St. Jean Pied de Port in France (black finger) and ends in Santiago in Spain (pink finger). Some people start earlier, some later. It’s also common to do segments of the route over time. 

 Today’s hike from Bergata to Larrasoaña was in some ways more difficult than yesterday’s hike, mainly because it wasn’t as dramatic. After the 7 or 8 miles, my feet got so sore that it filled my mind with a burning desire to not have my feet hurt. I would say more about it, but the only place to get Wi-Fi was the common area, so we chatted instead of blogged. 

  Bob has given you the lowdown on the rain. And the gale force wind. Which combined to pelt us in the face much of the day with stinging pellets while also attempting to blow us off the road. So I won’t write about that. Instead, I will say that I genuinely had moments of pure joy when we ambled along a ravine or through woods, sheltered temporarily from the weather, walking past a constantly changing mixture of shaggy horses, black-faced sheep, and beige longhorn cattle. I even said to Bob I was having fun, even though I was soaked to the bone and am notorious for hating to exercise in the rain. It was a good day.  Some, though very few, people (peregrinos) passed us on the walk. Among those who did were a young man from Denmark, a 60 year old from Ireland who had just taken a voluntary RIF in June and enjoying his retirement with a weeklong bike ride of Portugal (hardcore 100+ miles a day) followed two weeks later by this 500 mile walk. Needless to say, he and Bob hit it of...

 We started the hike out this morning with a little bit of wind in our face. As we got closer to the top, which maxes out at about 1500 meters (480 furlongs), a gale-force headwind grew in intensity as it rained harder and harder. A smaller woman was having a difficult time standing up. We scrambled to put on our rain coats and cover our packs. Wendy’s pack cover was loose on one side so it kept parachuting her backwards until she finally sorted everything out. After walking for miles up the steep slope with rain pelting us in the face, Wendy was talking about how awesome this was. The scenery was gorgeous, and everyone you made eye contact with smiled in return. Wendy is an awesome partner to shared adventures with. I hope it’s not too bold of me to publicly declare my love for her. After we crossed the summit and plodded along the top of the mountain for a few kilometers, we got to the spot that several people had warned us about. When you get to a certain fork in the road, whate...

The version of the Camino we’re doing starts in St. Jean Pied de Port, so we took a 4-hour train from Barcelona to Pamplona and then a cab ride to St Jean in France. I had been under the impression that most people start the Camino there, but at least half the people in the hostel had already been Camino-ing for weeks, and some were ending there.   At our community dinner of lentil soup and vegetables, the host was welcoming us all to the experience. He wanted to get us all involved by throwing an invisible ball to each other. When you caught the imaginary ball, you said your name and threw it to the next person. At one point, one of the French travelers glared when the ball was thrown to him. The host asked him to respond, and boy, did he respond! He growled and spat invectives in French. The only word I caught was mierde , which he said at least four times. I was deeply impressed. I often get upset in similar situations, like when I’m taking a Meyers-Briggs exam, but I hold off t...

Gaudi rooftops are amazing spaces filled with towers, arches and organic shapes. We lined up to take this picture  of the Sagrada Familia in the distance. Bob took one for the team by asking the clueless selfie-snapper on the other side of the arch to please move out of the way so the group of Chinese tourists in front of us, much too polite to say anything to the influencer blocking the view, could get on with their picture-taking.

Some of you may remember the adventures of the Tres C evales from the early 90’s, a “trip of a lifetime” that I was definitely not invited on. Nearly a decade later, a much-anticipated honeymoon to Spain somehow became a weekend at Snoqualmie Falls watching the Tour de France instead. Suffice it to say that when we finally landed in Barcelona on Sunday, it was the start of a trip that was long overdue. With only a day and a half in Barcelona, we focused in on the utmost essentials: see Gaudi and wander La Rambla. Casa Mila is more famous and more architecturally relevant, perhaps, but I found Casa Batlló more satisfying. The organic wooden shapes used throughout—on doors, windows, and banisters—had a lovely heft and warmth. And they had some art installations near the end of the tour that actually added to the experience. One was a series of chains hanging from the bottoms of the stairs that you could run your hands through and imagine wind passing through seashell chimes. The other wa...

 It’s hard to find the perfect balance between overplanning and underplanning. For example, we booked a 4:00 reservation for one of the Gaudi houses under the assumption that our 12:30 pm landing in Barcelona airport would leave us plenty of time to take the train into the city, check into our hotel, and make it to the Gaudi house (Casa Batlló) by 4:00. If we hadn’t make the reservations, we would have been chill about getting to Barcelona. We’ll get there when we get there. Instead, there was an extra element of stress in dealing with the bus, train, and walking route to the hotel. Since we made reservations, we were able to get tours of the Gaudi houses and the Sagrada Familia (Sagrad Family). So there’s that.

You might think, dear reader, that I just grabbed some stuff from around the house to get ready for our little walk. Untrue. This 20-pound collection is the result of months of research, visits to stores, conversations with Wendy, and a small amount of fussbudgetry.  What I'm Taking Pillow cover and down jacket 2 pairs of convertible pants Compression bags and stuff sacks Hat Towel and flip flops Toiletries, sun block, medicine, laundry detergent, moleskin Long underwear top and bottom 1-liter water bottle Sleep sack and down blanket 3 merino wool shirts Passport and money belt 3 underwear 36-liter Osprey backpack Rain jacket and swim suit Keen sandals (for around town) Battery charger, converter, phone cords 4 socks Trail-running shoes (main walking shoes) Hiking poles Not Pictured iPhone Portable fold-up keyboard What I Strongly Considered Taking and Left Out Rain poncho Rain pants Laundry clips iPad Sleeping bag Travel pillow Book

Back in 1995, Robert and I used dial-up connections to send Spain reports to friends. In 2024, Wendy and I will use this blog to post Spain reports for friends.