Bound for Sansol, we left Villamayor de Monjardin before sunrise, taking a farewell photo of the church as we headed down the hill and out into the valley. The kites soared over the hills as we headed out of the town. Looking back into the ripening dawn we could see …
Cirauqui beckoned. The day dawned with perfect weather and a well-made track. We met a French pilgrim from Toulouse, and we all chatted in English. He was a young guy but very interested in people’s stories, and he was really enjoying the Camino. The guy told us he was finishing …
With a quick last look out of our window overlooking the Town Hall square, we packed up and headed out early to the outskirts of the town, past the University of Navarre en route to Uterga. There we found a cafe/bakery and enjoyed a pot of tea and a Napolitana …
Pamplona is the goal today. The morning dawned clear and cool as we headed back over the medieval bridge and left Zubiri behind us. It wasn’t long before the path began to climb. I looked back to see the town receding beneath us before we wound our way through leafy …
We had planned to send our packs ahead for the descent into Zubiri, but when we woke, we were eager to set off and had completely forgotten our plan. We were deep in discussion and walking down the road, when we remembered how treacherous the descent into Zubiri can be. …
At Roncesvalles, we had a fairly comfortable night in a 4-bunk cubicle. I took the top bunk, with Sharon below. The ladder was a challenge as it sloped in where it joined the lower bunk, so it was a bit like climbing a ladder from underneath. But once up there, …
After two days in St Jean Pied de Port, we rose at dawn all packed and ready to go. We set out over the bridge with a quick stop for a selfie at the Virgin’s Gate. The dawn chorus was in full song while the water rushed beneath our feet. …
The Camino is both an external and an internal journey. The weight of our pack reflects our concerns as the outer journey reflects the inner one. Today, travel is more comfortable than in times past — and far safer.
Searching for the Puente Maria Pía, I picked my way along the long-disused and much-overgrown remnants of the railway line. It clung to the steep side of the valley overlooking the Douro River like a shelf on a wall. A light drizzle fell as I lifted my camera to get …
