We only use our walking poles when descending steep slopes that are slippery or have large rocks. Otherwise they are just a frickin nuisance to carry. My pack has an outer pouch and velcro strip to take my poles. Barbara’s pack doesn’t have this. I can carry her poles in the outer pocket of my pack as it has two zips and by bringing one zip up from each side the poles can protrude through a gap between them at the top.

This works okay for a while but as I walk the zips slide down and the poles flop about. I have been looking for two days for a piece of string to tie the toggles of the zips together. Yesterday we were walking along brain storming different options, a lace from my boots, the draw string from my laundry bag, platting Barbara’s sewing cotton, cutting the hem off a handkerchief, etc. We were running out of ideas when there on the path in front of us was a piece of blue twine, the perfect length and diameter.

There is a saying on the Camino “whatever your need, the Camino will provide”.  The authors of some of the books we have read on the Camino would have launched into a hole chapter on the spiritual significance of this piece of string. As we walked on we noticed more and more pieces, and then saw that a farmer had used a hole ball of it to do running repairs to a broken fence. But was it just a coincidence?  Hmm.

Today the walk from the industrial town of Zubiri to the city of Pamplona was a walk of two halves. Just out of Zubiri we passed a huge bleak magnesite industrial plant but once beyond this it was a tranquil walk along the River Arga under a canopy of trees. There were several small villages and some drinking fountains where we could top up our water bottles. The water from these fountains is always refreshingly cold.

We did a slight detour up the side of a hill to Zabaldika to visit the 13th century church of San Esteban. This is beautifully renovated and run by the nuns of the Society of the Sacred Heart. There is a very fine altarpiece which contains many detailed statues including one of St Barbara. The nuns encourage you to climb up the very narrow stone spiral staircase to the belfry where you can each ring the bell once. This is to send your prayers out over the valley.

The second half is along busy main roads leading into the city. For a distance of about 600m you walk on a narrow shoulder with no footpath . On the outskirts of Pamplona you cross a magnificent medieval stone bridge and then through about 5km of suburban streets before crossing another pilgrim bridge and climb up around the old city walls and through a gate with draw bridge and enter the historic city.

Pamplona is a legendary fortified city full of history and deep-rooted traditions. The city of the running of the bulls during the San Fermin Festival (July 6 to 14) made famous by Ernest Hemingway in his novel The Sun also Rises. We have a “rest” day here tomorrow so will go and explore.

We discovered another popular pilgrim food today. Potato omelette which you buy as a wedge. This is nice and soft after the mouth shredding bocadillo of yesterday.

It started out very grey and overcast this morning and several times there were spots of rain but we didn’t put our raincoats on and by the time we reached Pampalona it was bright and sunny.

The nuns of the Society of the Sacred Heart gave us a handout with the 10 Beatitudes of the Pilgrim. So for the next few days we will share these with you.

1 – Blessed are you pilgrim, if you discover that the “Camino” opens your eyes to what is not seen.

2 – Blessed are you pilgrim, if what concerns you most is not to arrive, as to arrive with others.

Today was a bit of a struggle when it shouldn’t have been. It was a lovely walk in the woods. We felt quite lethargic and for three reasons :

Tired from yesterday’s big effort

Not adjusted to local time, wide awake at 4am

Two much red wine for dinner last night.

No sore bodies, just not much energy.

20kms, passing through four small villages, lots of undulations but generally heading downhill with a steep descent over the last 3km into Zubiri. Most of the time we were walking in forest, ideal conditions, cooler and a slight wind.

There are no public toilets so far on the Camino. It is accepted in the villages that you can just walk into a cafe or bar, use the conveniences and walk out. This would not be tolerated at home. When we want a loo stop we buy a coffee for the privilege of using their facilities. The problem is that this means a  loo stop a bit further up the road.

Early today we walked through a particularly beautiful forest. The leaves were lit by the low angle of the sun and were a very bright almost lime shade of green. As we emerged at the edge of the forest there was a large white stone cross. Apparently some nastiness had occurred here in the 16th century. Nine women were accused of having a witches coven in the forest and were burnt at the stake. People used to wear little white crosses as protection from witches spells. The white stone cross was erected to ward off any spells that might still be in the forest. We passed through safely and the “witches of oak wood” did not get us.

As you enter Zubiri you cross an ancient stone bridge, Puenta de la Rabies . It has two large arches, one either side of a thick central column. The story is that if you walk your animals three times round the central column they will be free of rabies. I bet the vets like that.

We caught up with a group of four loud Australian (oxymoron?) guys in their forties or fifties. Barbara started to quizz them on why they were walking the Camino. My suggestion that they were actually four priests was met with uproarious laughter and a few crude comments. Barbara’s suggestion that they had been sent by their wives was met with silence.

Walking is usually very peaceful. Just the crunch of your footsteps, the click, click of the walking poles, clong, clong of the cow bells, some birds and the rustle of the breeze in the trees. Then the travelling circus of the above four Aussies comes up behind you. You let them pass and quickly tranquillity returns.

We arrived at our hotel at about 1.30 but they weren’t quite ready for us and asked us to come back at 2. This suited us as we were hungry and wanted some lunch. At a cafe we bought two bocadillos. These are half a length of crispy bread stick  with an omelette inside, usually with ham but any filling you like. They are everywhere and good filling food for walking. The problem is they have a very crusty, jagged top to them which unless you are very careful rips shreds off the top of your mouth. We have duly been initiated into the pilgrim experience.

At last the day has come. We are so excited. For months we have been itching to get to this day. We are also a bit apprehensive, this is the most challenging day in the physical sense. Other days will be challenging mentally and emotionally no doubt.

The Route de Napoleon is 26km on a flat map adjusted to 32km to allow for the climb. 1390m of ascent to the top of the Pass. A long and arduous day but also one with beautiful and spectacular views.

A typical French /Spanish breakfast of coffee, juice, toast and bread with jam. Our breakfast wasn’t till 7.30 so we would have some of the last to get away at about 8am. We bought a sandwich on way out of St Jean. This is half a french stick with cheese and ham.

We exited the Porte d’Espagne following in the footsteps of Napoleon and Charlemagne and a few million pilgrims in crossing the Pyrenees.

What an absolute buzz. Perfect weather – hot, sunny and no wind and about 12 degrees at the start. It was pretty clear that the Pass could be brutal at times and even just last week it was very cold with snow and strong winds.

The climb starts from the very first step, gentle at first but steadily getting steeper as you leave the village houses behind. The first two hours (8km) are through lush green farm land with lots of trees, sheep with black faces and curly horns and mainly on a sealed one lane road with a little bit of traffic. We left the road and on a rough stoney track climbed the steepest part of the day for about 3km. It was now about 27 degrees and most people found this part very difficult. We were sweating like pigs but did okay as we are not carrying heavy packs.

In this section we caught up with a lady from Indiana and started talking with her. She was getting very hot and dehydrated and Barbara gave her water from her bottle as we had two each and new we could refill further on. The lady was very, very grateful. Due to the extreme religious enthusiasm of some of the pilgrims I half expect stories to circulate of the Angel Barbara who miraculously appeared and gave succour to a pilgrim in need.

There are only two places to get food and drink today and the first is at a little refugio called Orisson which is at the top of that steep section. We had a coffee and filled our water bottles. There are only three places to get water today, here and at two mountain springs further on. Orisson also has the only toilet for the day. Literally one toilet cubicle. Thousands come over here each day in the summer. Can you imagine the state of it.  And the queues.

From there to the top of the Pass it is steady climbing, back on a sealed road and out in the open. No trees or shelter up here. A farmer had a little van on the side of the road and sold the most expensive bananas, apples, bars and drinks in the world. Barb bought bananas in perfect French.

Besides the spectacular views there are points of interest, a statue of Mary, a cross, a couple of graves and lots of signs and information on height gained, distance gained, distance to go etc.

It is now out in open grass land with wild flowers and cattle and horses roaming freely. They have large bells which go clong clong as they move about. The cows are fat and look more like the build of a hippo. The horses are small with very hairy legs.

At about the 20km mark you cross the border from France to Spain. It’s just a cattle grid on the path and a little sign. No immigration formalities here. This is now all off road on a nice wide trail. You can see it would be very muddy in the rain but for us was hard and compacted.

We came to some snow left over from last week and it was oh so refreshing to rub it over your forehead and round your neck.

More climbing but now through beautiful forest which shelters us from the sun. A little cool whisper of a breeze has also come to assist us. From the top at the Col de Lepoeder it was 5km downhill mostly through beech forest to Roncesvalles, the end of our day.  We could see the monastery at Roncesvalles from the summit and it was a very welcome site.

We started at 8 and finished at 3.30 with a total of about an hour for rests and food. A totally awesome day. At times we were part of a string of people and often on our own.

Our hotel is located inside the monastery which has served pilgrims since 1219. The hotel is very comfortable and brilliantly combines very modern fittings with the heritage original. We had a great meal that came with a bottle of very smooth velvety red wine. This was too nice and against our better judgement finished most of the bottle. I suspect we will regret this in the morning.

We were very pleased with today. Of course we are tired but have no aches and pains and our feet have no blisters or hot spots.

Theme song for today: The Beatles

I’m so tired, I haven’t slept a wink
I’m so tired, my mind is on the blink.

Today is my birthday. I feel very excited.

I’m supposed to be at home with my family gathered round me, because I’m 67 years old and they think I am going a bit strange.

Well sorry kids. You can stick that. I feel like I’m just 7 years old and today I am going on an adventure. A train ride. On a very special train.

As it’s my birthday, for breakfast I’m going to have a chocolate croissant.

The croissants are made by paul. He is all over Paris. All his shops say vinnoiseres,  maison de qualitie en 1889. I don’t know what this means but I think he must be very good. And very old.

He spells his name with a small p. Most days I just have a small pee as well. I might have to go and see someone about this .

The croissant was very yummy. But they are difficult to eat and I spilt chocolate and flakes all down my front. It seems to happen a lot these days. At least I wasn’t wearing my new pyjamas.

For my birthday I got some new pyjamas. They are blue on blue and soft and comfy. When you get old everything must be comfortable. In a previous post I said one of the reasons for walking the Camino was to take us out of our comfort zone!

Gare Montparnasse is really three train stations joined together. One level is local and underground trains, another is long distance and international and a bus terminus. The third probably interstellar, the moon or Mars maybe.

There are twenty four platforms in the long distance station. We are in coach 16 and in about the middle of the train so there are 30+ coaches. Both first and second class (us) are fully booked.

The train is a TGV – train a grande vitesse.  It is silver and shaped like a bullet.   It looks wickedly fast. I think it can do over 320km/hr. Once it did 575km /hr. We sometimes run parallel to the motorway and vehicles that would be doing 110 km/hr disappear backwards at about 100km/hr. The foreground is just a blur, the eye and brain are not fast enough to focus on anything. The middle ground is like watching a movie with the remote stuck on fast forward. Your eye cannot linger on anything for more than a few seconds before it disappears. Lamp posts rush by as if they are picket fences.

France is flat.  From Paris to the Pyrenees there is hardly a bump. The bright blue sky hangs down to a low horizon, there are no hills or mountains in the distance to push it up.

France is agricultural. Every square metre is divided up into paddocks. Brown for the ploughed, every shade of green and brilliant yellow for the rapeseed. A few trees, usually corralled up and fenced into some unusable corner.

No animals!  Where have all the animals gone? No cows, no sheep, cattle no horses, no pigs. Everywhere there are crops. They grow things, not rear things.

Lovely single farm houses, all white plastered with clay tile roofs, small windows and shutters. Then five or six houses gathered at a road intersection. Some villages hiding in trees, always with a church steeple and sometimes with a larger chateau on a bit of higher ground. The bigger villages have large storage sheds and silos next to sidings of the railway track.

And wind turbines. Sometimes a lonely outcast all on its own usually 5 to 10 grouped together hickeldy pickeldy, and then some armies, perfectly spaced, row after row of them.

The train is smooth and quiet, no clickety clack, clickety clack, no swaying, no creaking or jerking. Just a soft background hum – probably the air conditioning. It feels like the train is standing still and the world is rushing by.

After about 5 hours the train stopped at Dax where we alighted to change trains. We had 13 minutes to get our connection. 13 minutes counts down real fast when you don’t know what the hell is going on. Everyone in a uniform gave us different instructions, none of which we could understand. To get from platform to platform involved going down steps, through tunnels and coming up to the surface again. We did this four times before finding our train. It was the Bayonne train but was named Hendayes.

We got on the train with seconds to spare. The French pride themselves on trains running to the schedule. We were all a bit hot and flustered and my birthday wasn’t so much fun anyone. The train was an ordinary suburban train, noisy and swaying about and went clickety clack. Duh!  How could that be, it’s the same track as the TGV. It went like a snail in comparison.

After an hour’s ride we had another connection at Bayonne to St Jean Pied de Port. We only had a prepaid voucher for this and 3 pages of downloaded instructions on how to self print a ticket from a machine.  The station at Bayonne had four different types of machines and none of them would recognise us. We put in our name and the code we had been given but were rejected. We thought in the computer world our input may have had a Kiwi accent and so re-entered the info very slowly and clearly but we’re rejected again. There were too many drop down menus and options and we couldn’t really understand any of them so went and talked to a real person at the ticket desk and within about 20 seconds the lady had printed us tickets, put them in a cute little envelope and purred merci monsieur.

The third train of the day was a single carriage sort of rail car we had in NZ in the seventies. It was packed with us pilgrims and everyone had big packs, poles,sleeping bags, sleeping mats, groceries etc. It took nearly an hour to St Jean but now we were approaching the mountains and so went through steep sided gorges, crossed rushing streams etc.

St Jean Is the end of the line from Paris, where you hit the Pyrenees. The Swiss would have started tunnelling but the French just stopped so from here we walk.

St Jean Pied de Port is an old walled medieval town, a stronghold guarding several of the easier passes over the Pyrenees. Inside the walls of the old town had the Citadel on top of a hill, narrow winding streets, cobble stone footpaths. Outside were the rugby fields, schools, supermarkets,  etc. We found our hotel easy enough, what was once a grand mansion was now a run down but charming hotel.

We were met by the large and jolly owner who we knew liked his rugby and followed the All Blacks. He looked like he may have been a prop back in about 1970. He bundled us into a tiny telephone sized box of a lift and then ran up the stairs to be waiting for us on the second floor.

We explored all the streets, climbed all the battlements, got our first stamp in our pilgrim passport and found a restaurant for an evening meal. One option is a set menu for peregrinos for 12 euros, which we had,  3 courses and a carafe of red wine.

First course soup of potato, carrot, onion, lentils and a bag of salt.

Second course of fried chicken and chips.

Third course of Basque cake made with almonds.

It was a stunning, warm,sunny evening and wonderful to just relax with the red wine and reflect on all that had happened on a birthday I will never forget. The town is full of excited, nervous, apprehensive, confused but happy pilgrims all ready to start a bit of a walk tomorrow. We wandered back to our hotel and I put on my new pyjamas and slept very well.

Ipod song for the day sung by Joan Baez:

Lord I’m one,  Lord I’m two, Lord I’m three,  Lord I’m four, Lord I’m five hundred miles way from home.

We are five hundred miles from Santiago.  Doesn’t bear thinking about.