Stage 3 – Zubiri 19km

Wool can only do so much, we’ve touched on it before.  Today, despite leather boots and wool socks, we came close to a building evacuation when I took off my boots.  Goodness knows how we’ll go in the dorms but I swear I’m never going to wear the same pair for six days running again, despite what they say about wool.

Glorious day today.  About eight degrees when we left Burguete rising to mid teens during the day with a beautiful blue sky.  We dropped maybe 400m down to 500m or so, 70% down and 30% up or there abouts.  The path was mostly through forests of beech and red pine with a few small villages and farm land.  The down part, particularly at the end, was steep and hard on the quads.

With the sunshine filtered through the new growth of spring, the beech forests were aglow with a kind of fresh, new born lime green.  It was stunning. 

We stopped after an hour for coffee at Espinal, and met up with many we’d enjoyed meals with or met along the way.  Lunch was left over snack bars and by Zubiri we were well ready for dinner.

I don’t snore.  To assist with me not snoring Di turns me over now and then (allegedly).  In Burguete the room had two single beds hampering this (alleged) procedure.  Di said she had her walking poles at the ready.  She must’ve had the rubber boots on the poles or else I’m right and I actually don’t snore.  Either way I survived without pole holes in my back.

We checked out the piano signed by Hemingway in the place we stayed last night but couldn’t find his signature.  In the “Sun Also Rises” they stay in the Hotel Burguete to take a break from all the festivities associated with the bullfights in Pamploma (which we’ll reach shortly).  It’s pretty cool.

While walking today I was lamenting, with each photo I took, that they were all shit (especially compared to Di’s ).  Di said, “well, it’s your Camino Jeff, you can take all the shit photos you want”.  This cheered me immeasurably, and I think my photos improved as a result.

One final anecdote before I crash.  We met a lady from NZ who’s mother is a devout Catholic.  When Andrea told her 90 year old mum she was doing the Camino (the Catholic equivalent of a mecca pilgrimage) she said, “oh dear, I hope you’re not getting involved in some cult”!

Oh, and I have an enduring memory of Paddy from Lismore -ish, seventy something, skipping down through the forest bathed in green, kicking up the thick crispy brown leaf litter as she went, with the innocent glee of a twelve year old.  Heart warming.

Tomorrow we make for Trinidad, just shy of Pamploma.  16km of mostly flat and down.  We’re easing ourselves in and enjoying the process.