Roncesvalles to Zubiri, 22.7km, unknown time, Amets Pensione

The day started out lovely with the albergue waking everyone at 5:55am with vespers chanting, gently increasing with volume until the church bells rang at 6:00am. With the crowds needing the toilets and the clothes still hung over my bunk – but thankfully dry – it still took us almost an hour to start walking.

There was a little rain at the beginning but a drier walk was forecast. At only the 2km mark we stopped for breakfast #1 but just had a juice and coffee since we also ate a granola bar that we had bought in Saint-Jean. Stops at the next two bars were far less useful. After standing in a line of five people getting served by two bartenders for five minutes, when I got to the front, they decided to serve the people behind me. If the don’t want my money, I’m cool with that (not really but what was I going to do?). I walked out. The next bar was just too crowded and no one was respecting queues there either. I walked out sooner. We had food and water in my bag anyway.

The walking today was mostly over flat trails, gently climbs and gentle descents but there were four tough, steep climbs of between 150m and 250m that definitely slowed us down. There were also several kilometers of walking down paved rocks that were on too steep of a decline. To make sure we didn’t slip, we had to keep our knees bent all the time. My knees are still trembling. There was also a tough 300m descent into Zubiri on the edge of rocks stitching up from the earth on odd angles.

The last 300m of the trail was the most eventful though. That was on a more gentle descent on massive flat boulders. I swear I was being careful but I hit a section covered in a fine rubble and my feet came out from under me. I fell to the side with my shoulder meeting the rock after my hands turned me a little. And there I laid, unable to move with my heavy backpack still strapped to me. As Melanie caught up to me, she also slipped but barely kept her balance. She is more athletic that I. She started to take my straps off as another couple came to assist. That woman also slipped but kept her balance too. The man was able to help lift me so we could assess the damage. No gear was affected but I was. I was bleeding a good bit on my right knee, right arm, the palm of my right hand and the thumb on my left hand. In fact, the hand injuries both had small flaps of skin hanging off and replaced with grit.

We hobbled into town and stopped in the first pension we saw. They had one en-suite room still available for 60€ and we said yes immediately. She didn’t know we were desperate and would have paid double. The rooms are worth it.

One thing about our hostess though: she would make a terrible Camino guide. We asked for the nearest pharmacy to buy bandages and she directed me 200m down the main road in the village. It turned out to be 650m down the road. What’s worse is that when I got back to the front door of the pension, I realized I wasn’t carrying the bandages I bought and they weren’t in my cargo pants pocket either. So i trudged over to the pharmacy, retracing my steps. Eventually, once I got the store, I check my pockets one last time. Then, dejected by my idiocy, I planned to buy another box if the pharmacist didn’t already find the bandages on the floor. Bugger, I am a fool I though as I jammed hands into my jacket pocket. Oops. My only defense was that I almost never wear jackets. The total trip was 650m x 4. That’s a lot of walking when I’m on death’s door here.

Melanie played the perfect nurse, not only dressing my wounds but also helping to unpack, wash and dry the clothes, etc. She’s a keeper. We also had a lovely pilgrim dinner with Nigel and Susan, two Canadians staying in the next room. We saw Lori, Dwainya, Felix and Mali and many other Camino friends in the restaurant or around town walking to it.

All in all, it was a good day. Eventful but good.

Peace y’all.