You told me it was flat!

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imageimageWe did a jail break at 7.10am and started our walk to Cizur Menor. It was 19.6Km away so that didn’t seem too bad as after a hard start I thought I had planned an easier day with the distance being under the average 15 miles requested by the Cyclist.

It was a very chilly start and the forecast was great so we set off wrapped up and with our winter gloves on. It soon warmed up, well for me anyway. We were told it was flat today and I can not remember who told us but they are fibbers of the worse sort and must be walking this Camino for penance.

There were two whopping great hills today the height of Clee hill some 850 metres up. But rather than tied the tracks were muddy and really hard with large pebbled and boulders. It was tough going and I was cursing inside my head. The descents were even worse because they were as steep as the ascents and just as difficult. More so really as the stones would give way under foot and you could so easily have fell. Some of the drops were quite deep to step down. Even the machine known as the Cyclist said they were technical descents and not enjoyable.

We arrived in the outskirts of Pamplona in late morning though my feet were killing me, my knees hurting and quads screaming. It was our fourth day of going overly rains with my load on my back and the shine was wearing off.

At the gate of the old town/Citidel of Pamplona we had our first picture taken together. He Spanish chap that took it must have legs of different lengths I think. When I saw the photo o laughed. Not due to its tilted nature but because of how different I looked to the Cyclist. I had been walking as fast as I could trying to keep up with him (apart from uphill where I have no chance) and as the sun was out o was hot. The Cyclist however was obviously not!

We didn’t stop for a breakfast coffee until midday when we had got to the far side of the city. Gosh how I miss my morning cuppa. If only we had been like the little French couple , Gerard and Sylvie. They had a flask and two plastic cups. But then I would have had to carry it so I can stop dreaming. Never take your fury morning drink for granted. It’s a luxury ☕️

On we went another 5km or so to our planned stop. And wouldn’t you know it the town was perched at the top of a big hill. We arrived at midday and the Albergue didn’t open until 1pm. So we put our packs in the queue of packs (that’s how it’s done) and walked round to find the tiny bar come supermarket. We had a slice of Tortilla patatas and a cold Rosé for me and a pint of cold beer for the Cyclist. That’s more like it

The plan was to book in, shower and catch s bus back to Pamplona. As much as I wanted to I had done enough walking. I had an issue with my left foot that made it bleed so after doing the washing ( me then that day’s clothes) I sat down for a while. The Cyclistvwas chatting the a Danish chap called Jan (Yan), who was in our dormitory. There was a huge garden an patio with plenty of chairs and tables which was so nice compared to the previous night. We were all nice and quiet apart from the Germans and Spanish who were making enough noise for everyone.

I actually got some sleep after a poor meal and half bottle of red table wine.

Adios from the inglasis Perigrinos. Enjoy the photos.

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