According to Shirley (one of the bad ass women), the forecast stated that the wind velocity was unsuitable for walking. It clocked in between 30-40 mph through much of today’s walk. Combine it with morning temperatures under 40, the conditions were challenging similar to the climb over the Pyrenees. I should add the Napoleon route over the Pyrenees was closed for two days before I went over and for two days after. I was lucky to have been in the sweet spot.

The vegetation during the first part of today’s walk was pretty austere. Near the peak of the hill, a large cross was planted to remind pilgrims that the Camino is or once was a religious undertaking depending on one’s beliefs. As I began my descent, Burgos could be seen in the distance.

In the valley, pilgrims stopped for refreshments, the most popular item was some form of coffee, and a toilet break. These bars/cafes are a very welcomed sight though I would prefer more of them and spaced about every three miles (one hour). Other pilgrims felt the same way.

Pilgrims can enter Burgos in two ways: the traditional route on paved streets that cuts through the northern part of the city or the river route that goes along the Rio Arionzon that is flanked on both sides by parkland. The trick is to make the correct left turn to the road that goes around the perimeter of the airport and to find the correct way through the suburb of Castanares. Not easy.

With some trial and error in Castanares, I made my way along the southside of the river. The pathway was crowded with adults and children. 99.99% of them were not walking the Camino. When I checked in at my hotel, I found out that today is a holiday — 1 May, Labor Day. I should have guessed this when I came upon a street demonstration in central Burgos.

I checked into my hotel at 1:30, the earliest of the Camino. My fellow diners and I from last night reserved a table at Casa Ojeda said to the best traditional restaurant in Burgos. We had to be there by 3:30, the last available reservation.

The ladies made it but Pepino was a no show. Too bad for him because indeed, as Rosa said, the roasted lamb cooked over a wood fire was exquisite — the skin was crisp and the meat was fall off the bones moist. Instead of potatoes, we all opted for the small salad of lettuce and onions similar to our sweet Videlia. We chose the house recommended Rioja. To end our meal, Shirley went for the chocolate “egg” while June and I went with the “our renowned puff pasty cake.” A special Galician liquor was offered — note Santiago in gray, right bottom corner, of the label. Maybe an informal imprimatur. I graciously accepted my glass on behalf of the three of us. It tasted like a very mild Chartreuse served chilled. A tray of petit fours were laid on the table. Everyone was happy. I wished them the best on their journey to Santiago. They have three weeks to go.

The afternoon was still young so I walked around the Plaza Mayor and the Burgos Cathedral which is a World Heritage site. I took a photo of the plaque designating the Camino de Santiago as a World Heritage tradition.

I ended today with a photo of Burgos at 9:24 PM from my hotel room.

I am saddened that adventure is almost over. Tomorrow, I won’t have to hurry to pack my luggage so that it is in the lobby by 8 AM. Breakfast will be leisurely. I’ll tour the Burgos Cathedral and have time to read the New York Times Sunday magazines and Smithsonians I brought with me. They were put aside so that I could write the blogs.

It will be a shift going from an active to a more passive traveler. But the next Camino from Burgos to Melide to complete the Camino Frances is brewing in my mind.

Thanks to all of you who read the blogs. Perhaps they will inspire you to consider experiencing a multi-day walk.

Buen Camino.

All the best.

Norte y Londres Hotel: 2

Today’s long journey started at 8 AM with clear skies with nice crisp air to breathe. A large Camino mural was painted on the side of a gasoline station on the way out of Belorado. Such signs may be “good business.” However, one can feel the genuine warmth from so many people who say Buen Camino as you pass them by. The Camino is woven into the cultural fabric of the people who live along its path.

This stage took us across fields, into the mountains, and by a memorial dedicated to locals who were executed by Franco’s troops in 1936. That event was the catalyst that began the Spanish Civil War. Although that war is long over, people don’t forget. Why do we keep making the same mistake that war and violence solves problems?

After walking over 20 miles, Rosa picked up two other hikers and me in Atapuerca (a World Heritage site). Atapuerca has very limited numbers of hotel rooms. Thus, we stayed at the Casa Rural that Rosa and her husband own and operate. It is up on a hill that overlooks the route that we had just walked. Just the day before, we all hiked through the mountains in the far background. Looking back gives one an appreciation of the miles covered. It is more than a number.

Dinner was served at 7:30. The first course was vegetable soup. It contained leeks, onions, carrots, potatoes. Delicious. We had a main course of local ham plus red peppers and a small salad. Dessert was three day old soft cheese with a slice of quince. Besides the red wine, Rosa served up the Spanish equivalent of grappa flavored with fresh fruit. I am surprised that I am writing this blog after such a meal — just a draft with revisions and editing in the morning.

My dining companions and I enjoyed one another so much that we will have late lunch after our walk into Burgos at a restaurant that specializes in Burgos cuisine — roasted lamb to be exact. In making our reservations, the online form asked if we wanted lamb because the chef needs advanced notice. We all said yes. Rosa had suggested Casa Ojeda. Voila, it was highly touted on the guidebook page (Fodor’s) that I had photographed before leaving on this trip.

The two ladies are from Houston. They are really “bad asses” as they described themselves. They will be going all the way to Santiago. Shirley siting next to me is 73 and June is 67. Most impressive is twenty years ago they completed the “double dip” of the Grand Canyon meaning they started down the south rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, crossed the Colorado River and up to the top of the North Rim and reversed the trip back to the top of the South Rim in 22 hours. This was the first time that I had heard of the “double dip,” let alone meet anyone who has done it. Both Shirley and June have recently climbed to the summit of Yosemite’s Half Dome; Shirley has topped Mt Kilimanjaro. But the “double dip” was the most impressive feat in my opinion.

Pepino, an Italian from Capri, rounds out the quartet. He is on his fifth Camino and will be going all the way to Santiago. He agreed with me that if you love the ocean, the coastal Portuguese Camino is for you. He also commented how much he liked the Primativo because it had so few pilgrims on it. He was shocked as I was when in Melide where the Primativo meets the Frances, he woke up to the crowds of pilgrims in the town square and the trail.

Tomorrow will be bittersweet for me because these three will be moving on towards Santiago. But one needs to remember to be in the moment and embrace it. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

El Brocal Fresno de Rodilla: 1.5

The vineyards of the past two days have given way to fields of wheat, oats, and soybeans. Plots of onions are interspersed here and there. The early mornings are still cold (in the 30s) but afternoon temperatures reach the 60s. It is indeed important to have a range of outerwear that can be layered as conditions change.

Grañón is the first town on the road after leaving Santo Domingo. Pilgrims receive a very warm welcome as they enter the town. At the top of the steps is a food truck offering hot/cold drinks as well as breakfast and lunch snacks. I ordered a double cafe con leche to boost my energy level.

About 2 miles down the road, an ostentatious sign marked the border with Castile and Leon, the largest state in Spain. I guess that’s why the powers to be put up such a sign. As we move from Basque land, tapas replaces pinxtos as the proper name for those small bite goodies.

Down the road a piece, a recent metal sculpture was placed in Redecilla dedicated to Camino pilgrims. The small towns along this stage are really quiet with few people out and about. Also, much of the Camino path goes along a major highway. Thank goodness pilgrims can walk separately from the highway.

On this stage, I took time off from reflecting. I listened to an Ann Cleeves novel, Red Bones, a crime of mystery set in the Shetland Islands. This book tells the story of Detective Inspector, Jimmy Perez upon which the first season (two episodes) of an excellent British TV series, Shetland, is based on. How does this book tie into the Camino?

While walking to Los Arcos (Day 6), I met a fellow named Don who lives just south of Edinburgh. He is a retired Scottish detective. He told me that he had heard good reviews of Shetland. However, he does not watch police procedural shows because he would be constantly criticizing them. He now works part time guiding walks around Scotland. Given his pace, I don’t know if I could keep up with him after a few miles.

He said that on one of his tours, an American woman who was a Shetland fan wanted him to take her to the pier where the ferry from Aberdeen to the Shetland Islands was docked. Her reason was that the central event in one of the Shetland seasons was a murder that was committed on the ferry. Don said, “Can you believe it?”

I’ll digress with two more stories. This is the first time on any of my walks on which I met a mother, Manon, as she said like in the opera, Manon Lescaut, was walking with her son, Martin, an attorney. They are from Trois-Rivières, Quebec. She had already taken her older son and daughter separately on other segments of the Camino. Manon and Martin also hiked the Pyrenees on the same day that I did. No taxis for her.

The other story was told by Lizzie from South Africa. I met her at the end of my first day along with Raye, Holt, and Daniel (see Day 2). Lizzie completed her residency in pediatrics and was taking a break before deciding where to practice. She told the story about her mother who without warning told her husband and four children that was taking a “gap year” from her family to do the Camino. She did so but not for year.

Her mother thought the experience was so profound that she invited her husband to go with her to Lisbon to do the Portuguese Camino. They started together but after three days, she told her husband that he was on his own because he needed to learn how to wash his own clothes and manage how to feed himself. She would meet him in Santiago.

Lizzie said that they are still married. I had never heard this reason for going on the Camino. I am sure there must be equally interesting stories that are yet to be told. Lots of material on the Camino for a soap opera.

I against enjoyed dinner with Roy and Shannon who graduated from McGill University. To my McGill friends, her dorm was Molson Hall. Dinner was adequate but I’ll add that the beans (my fifth) were superb. Can’t get enough.

Hotel Verdeancho: 2

Living in the present is one of the principles that the Camino is said to help develop in its participants. Since doing my 88 Temple walk in 2019, I think that I am better at doing just that in all aspects of life. My Camino walks have reinforced that behavior. The images that I include in the blog represent my take on the experiences of the present, of the moment, and the beauty contained within them.

Today, I saw snow covered mountains in the far distance, massive clouds that appeared so powerful as they dominated the sky, and the never ending trail. It is unfortunate that the photos present only one of the senses. You are missing the chirping of birds, the warmth of the sun, the babbling of streams, the bracing wind on the face, and the words “Buen Camino” that fellow pilgrims say as they walk by.

Away from distractions of daily life, the Camino also offers opportunities for reflection. Acres of vineyards in La Rioja are on both sides of the trail. They are planted with young, mature, and old vines. Seeing them over and over, hour by hour, made me think about them as an analog about life.

Newly planted vines are thin but straight. Their young branches need support and guidance as new sprouts form each spring. The grapes usually yield wines that are said to be fresh but lack depth.

As the vines mature, their bases thicken and their outer bark start to show markings of age though they remain mostly upright, trim, and straight. These vines have experienced several seasonal changes and climatic events. Depending upon where they are cultivated, they may yield grapes that form reserve wines.

Finally, I passed many plots with old vines, some of which could be as old as I am. These vines have unique shapes and vary in height. They have undergone transformation from years of pruning and bear the marks of age. Yet every year, they develop new growth and yield grapes that are prized for their richness and complexity. Perhaps you have seen wine labels that proclaim that the grapes come from old vines (vieilles vignes – French; vinedo viejo- Spanish; vigna vecchie – Italian).

I was thinking that my life can be seen now as an old vine with my unique experiences that have formed my shape and the wrinkles on my skin, nuances in thoughts, and vigor in spirit — my height has remained the same since I was fourteen. I continue to form new growth that helps me renew but also gives me the opportunity to nourish others. Take these thoughts for what they are — a happy traveler on the Camino who has time to clear his mind and review his past, present, and future.

Dinner was in the sister hotel from mine. I met up with Roy and his daughter, Shannon – the second father/daughter combo that I have met on this Camino. We have run into one another from time to time. This was the first time that we had an opportunity to talk.

Roy is an American with a duel citizenship in Canada. He is retired but still consults in waste management. He completed the Camino from St Jean to Santiago in 2018. His dream is to take at least one of Shannon’s daughters on a Camino. Shannon graduated from John Jay/ CUNY but now does project management in Toronto.

We dined together at a restaurant owned by the same people who operate Hotel Rey Pedro I. I started off with beans, of course, but white instead of red. I tried the pimentos rellanos (stuffed peppers) and ended with flan. The beans were top notch. Seeing Shannon’s plate and hearing her comments, I should have opted for the eggs with mushrooms. The flan was very good but I liked the one from yesterday better which I judged as my ATF. We all agreed that the wines were excellent both red and white (must be old vines).

We walked back to our hotel as night fell. Oh hum, another tower from the 18th Century.

Hotel Rey Pedro 1: 1.5

I was in full uniform (raincoat, rain pants) when I left Logroño because it was pouring. I didn’t know it then but this morning’s rain was the first of three to come during the walk.

My hotel was on the Camino. I turned left out of the hotel and went on the Marqués de Murrieta (you may have seen the name on a label on a bottle of Rioja) before I started on a long trail in a city park. It eventually came to the city reservoir where fisherman were sitting talking up a storm waiting for a hit. Perhaps their talking helped end the rain. By then, I had shed my raincoat and rain pants. The scene was sublime especially in the morning light.

Hill climbing began after leaving the reservoir behind. I passed through vineyards of aging vines until I reached the top of the final hill from which I could see the reservoir and Logrono in the distance.

Once over the hill, my sights were set on reaching Navarrete, the halfway point of this stage. I was immediately taken with the image of a large bull on top of the next hill. I have no clue why it was placed there. Even in the 21st century, the bull holds a special place in the Spanish imagination.

At this point in the walk, I thought that I had beaten the odds of being rained on. I was humbled again. Black clouds appeared; the skies opened. I could easily put on my raincoat but what about my rain pants? I endured 30 minutes before being able to put them on while in the Navarrete’s cathedral. The church was dark so who knows what else happens in the pews. I was stunned by how ornate the main alter was as was the alters of almost every church that I had entered on this trip. I can’t fathom how much wealth was concentrated in constructing these churches.

Within 30 minutes, the rain ended. Off came the raincoat but I decided to keep on my rain pants just in case. For once, I had made the right decision because with 6 miles to go, I could see another rain front coming from the high point of this stage, Alta de San Anton.

By the time I had descended into the valley, the storm was upon us. Not only did it pour but the wind was so strong that the raindrops felt like bee stings when they hit my face.

My fellow Caminoites endured the rain for four miles or about an hour and half. When the front went by, the skies cleared. I took this photos about two minutes after the rain went by. Hard to believe.

I continued along the path until I reached Najera. I stopped for a beer and some fish before checking into the hotel. I was famished. My walk clicked in at 20 miles (into the wind). I had made it.

Dinner started early for Caminoites at El Trece (13) around the corner from the hotel. I couldn’t pass up ( or is it pass on) the red beans — for the third time. The main was qfried sardines. I ended with probably the best flan that I have ever eaten. The custard was firm and the caramel was slightly burnt and thick on the top. The local red wine was good.

After dinner, I took a stroll with the other hundreds of locals. A carnival was in full motion. The Rio Najerilla next to the festivities was quiet as sunset was in progress. The churro truck that was mobbed a few minutes before was on a well deserved break. I walked back to my hotel.

Hotel Hispanio: 2.5

Rain — the forecast predicted to start in the afternoon. I looked out the window of my hotel room. The skies seem to say that all will be well. Not to be swayed by my wishful thinking, I decided to start at 8 AM instead of my usual 9. Here are some photos from this morning walking through Sansol, Torres del Rio, finally stopping in Viana (about 2/3 of the way).

Near Viana, I met up with Robert who was talking by the side of the path with Kieran from West Cork. Along the path came Jerry formerly of Dublin, now Vancouver. We walked together towards Viana when I told them that they could go on. They are about 6 feet tall or more (see Jerry, second from left); their strides were so much longer.l than mine. I kept them in my sights. Eventually, with several uphill climbs to Viana, I caught them at LaTaverna on Viana’s main street. We all sat down (11 miles walked at that moment) and ate various types of tortilla (traditional, ham and cheese, and chorizo) along with beers. During that lunch, I became one of the four Irish Frances (after the Camino). I may apply for an Irish passport now.

The last third of the journey was yet ahead. We wound our way out of Viana.

As before, my Irish companeros took off; I walked this last section alone. I did not get lost because all of the forks in the road had clear signs. I knew that I had entered Rioja by not only the sign at the border but also the old vines in many vineyards by the sides of the path,

After a long descent but gradual descent, Logrono’s old city came into sight across the River Ebro. Turning right after the bridge, I walked about a half mile through old town until I reached my hotel. But before I did, I passed the parliament building for Rioja. An interesting object d’art was to its right. You can’t see it fully. It is made up of four large cleaning brushes like you see spinning on the sides of a car as it passes through a car wash. The woman was pushing a lever back and forth to make them spin. Perhaps it means — Rioja, maker of red wines, promotes clean government?Think about that piece next to our city hall.

When I went out for dinner, I passed by this exhibit. Indeed, the pieces were composed of spinning car wash mops. But my guess about cleaning government was wrong. Logrono was displaying outdoor art. These represented the swirling skirts of Spanish dancers entitled Dancing Carwash. It attracted many curious onlookers.

The Calle Mayor (Main Street) was filled with strollers and diners at 8:30. I spotted this restaurant that had no patrons on this very busy Friday night. Perhaps bad pr to get attention doesn’t always work out.

8:45 came. I had a solo reservation at Ajonegro (black garlic), a one star Michelin restaurant presenting Spanish-Mexican fusion food. I invited Robert who is leaving the Camino in Logrono to join me.

We chose the night “short” menu. The price was 72 euros. Robert ordered Aquarius, a flavored water brand, while I ordered various wines by the glass. The pours were 2 oz and were priced at 4 euros each.

I wanted to explore the cuisine as well as wine. I won’t describe every dish. I would be writing for another hour and a 20 mile stretch is ahead of me tomorrow. Every portion was small but more than satisfying. The use of Mexican chili spices was superb. Even after all of courses, we felt just right, not stuffed. Here are our three favorites.

We loved the artichoke. Lightly fried and baked with a Mexican chili and cheese. The plating enhanced the dish; the artichoke was like the center of the sun. My favorite wine of the night was the Rias Baixas from Galacia that paired so well with the artichoke.

Our second favorite was the steak tartare. How about the plating? You can combine the meat with the mustard flavored ice cream and eat them with or without the chips that were dusted with chili powder.

Our final favorite was the confit of leeks. Vegans would swoon. I just sat quietly and complemented it with a Rioja white.

Our dinner complete, we were invited to the kitchen to meet the chef-owners who created this wonderful fusion – she is from Mexico, he from Spain. They have had the star for two years. Perhaps in the future, we will return to experience what magical combinations they will have created.

Hotel Murrieta: 2

In order to resume walking on the Camino, I had to retrace my steps back to the historical center of Estella. If I were to return here, I would pencil in an extra day to explore the museum and the various medieval buildings. Also, part of the town hugs a stream that creates a beautiful scene.

Shortly after leaving town, the Camino goes by the Bodega Irache, one of the most popular stops on the Camino, because it offers free wine at its fountain. Eager pilgrims lined up to fill their bottle. I passed on taking any wine – 9 AM is way too early for drink though I have to admit to over pouring alter wine to priests when they said 6 AM mass. I can remember them swaying when we finished mass. I still had miles to go and not afford using energy to walk straight. I also explored the cellar below where some of the wines are aged in barrels.

After this excitement, I took the wrong fork in the road (the last time I’ll follow Yogi Berra’s advice) but after a mile or so found the trail. Here are some photos of the countryside and pilgrims on the path.

I have had issues with how distances are reported in guide books. They always seem to underestimate distances. What caught my attention today was the sign “Almost There.” It reminded me of onlookers at marathons when you had 6 miles to go and were in pain. They would say “You are looking good. Keep it up. You are almost there.” Well intentioned but really….?

We got there -Los Arcos – 3 miles later. Again, I crashed on my bed while listening to the arguments and questioning at the US Supreme Court concerning Trump’s claim of absolute immunity.

I stayed awake the whole time. The questioning ended just in time for dinner. The restaurant overflowed with Caminoites. I shared a table with Michela from Italy and Robert from Ireland (see yesterday’s blog).

Dinner was tasty and satisfying. I had beans again along with trout. The best news of the day was hearing that Sharon’s minor knee surgery appeared to be successful. She was home. I will sleep well tonight.

Hotel Monaco: 2

The big decision of the morning was whether to wear rain gear or not. I ended up carrying my rain jacket and pants. It was iffy until about 11 AM when it seemed that they weren’t necessary. But it was still cold (40 degrees with a wind chill of 32).

As I left Puente La Reina, I passed an example of a well preserved shop dating from 1905. It would have been fun to have had breakfast there instead of at the hotel though not outside. I also captured the profile of the Romanesque bridge from which I took last night’s sundown photo. These small towns have maintained their characters even in 2024.

The first half of the walk was filled with ups and downs. The climbs were steep as were the descents. Along the way, I met up with some of the Kiwis and Aussies from my first and second days. Can you tell who belongs to each nationality? The couple on the left are Aussies and the four on the right are Kiwis. It’s the footgear that gives them away.

I must admit that I can more easily understand the Aussies. I was told that it has something to do with the way Kiwis pronounce vowels.

Eventually, we reached the hill town of Cirauqui requiring another climb. The town reminded me of those on the Amalfi coast and Sicily with their steps for sidewalks and hairpin curves. At one juncture, I had a choice. I think most pilgrims chose to go left.

After leaving Cirauqui, fields of yellow spread before us. So striking against the green and dark skies. In a few weeks, the color will be gone for another year.

I had reached Lorca, the halfway point. Time for some lunch. I was amused by the sign that welcomed every type of eater and offered non-Spanish dishes. This establishment even offered epson (sic) salts for tired feet!

I chose a small cafe at the end of town whose owners were Spanish and Chinese. They had met as university students in Rome. What a world! I asked to take their photo but the wife demurred; she said that she was shy.

But I did meet some satisfied diners who were not shy. Sean from Ireland had studied as a graduate student at Penn State. I chose the mixed salad and a draft beer – both were delicious and cost only 11.75 Euros.

Break time ended. Now for the final push to Estella. Almost immediately after leaving Lorca, I took this photo of a pilgrim framed within a tunnel of trees. I could not resist.

After winding through the countryside, I entered Estelle which was once a multi religious city with a large Jewish population. A plaque recounts the history of Jews in the city.

Several historic structures still stand in Estelle – the major church on the side of a hill and the palace of the Dukes of Navarra that is now a museum. After walking through the Castile gate at the south end of the historical section, I realized that I had to backtrack to get to my hotel. I’ll walk through the gate tomorrow to rejoin the Camino.

My hotel is located in Yerri section on the newer side of town; hence, the Yerri hotel. This long day led to my crashing until dinner time. In the restaurant, I met an Irishman, Robert, who was on his first personal Camino. Until now, he served as a guide for Camino tour groups that left him little time to experience the self-reflections and interactions with pilgrims outside of his tour group. You know that I had a lot to say.

We shared plenty of Camino and personal stories as well as dinner. I chose a salad of romaine lettuce hearts with anchovies. We both ate the pig knuckle. I ended with ice cream that had the consistency of semifreddo. Did you notice that no one was sitting behind Robert? The time was 8 PM. By 9:30, it was completely full. We were concerned whether the restaurant had enough customers to stay in business.

We might see one another at breakfast or on the road. He is on the road by 8; I at 9. But moments like these even only once are the treasures of the Camino.

Hotel Yerri: 2 but with bonus points for the anchovy salad making it 1.75

Mother Nature has a mind of her own. She brought rain to Northern Spain. It rained lightly throughout day known as a soft day in Ireland. Raincoats, rain pants, and ponchos were on every pilgrim’s body and mind.

Whether rain or shine (thank goodness, no snow) brings an ambiance to the walk. The light is muted but colors stand out. Here is a mustard covered field of yellow just outside of Pamplona. Our challenge was to crest the mountain in the background — Alto de Perdon (755 meters). Did you see the walkers in the right lower corner of the image?

Our muddy mountain climb began in Zariquiegui. I had to take a photo of the sign below. It was the first time that I had see this singular message displayed in public. I wondered whether it could be shown in Florida, probably too woke.

After passing out of the town, we proceeded up the mountain passing a row of windmills. If you have read blogs from my Primitivo trip, you will recall how often I had encountered windmills in the Cantabrian mountains. When we crested the mountain, we passed by a metal sculpture honoring pilgrims and their battles with winds at the pass. Wind and rain, constant companions of walking pilgrims.

The descent was steep and rocky. Perhaps stony describes it better – lots of the them. Towards the middle of the descent after the steepest section, grateful walkers, I included, have tossed a stone on this pile that now envelopes a Camino sign.

At the bottom, I met John from Oregon who is on his first Camino. He will be going all the way. He retired from his job of 30 years. He is 58 and wanted to experience walking alone in a non- English speaking land. I was happy (perhaps with some slight envy) for him because he will have many more walks ahead of him. Although I plan on a multi-day a year, the options for the types of walks and their durations will lessen year by year.

We entered Obanos, another medieval town with close connections to the Camino – a story of murder and repentance from centuries ago. Here are photos of the main church’s alter, the gateway to the plaza mayor, and another free library. We were only 3 km from Puente La Reina.

Finally, after 25 minutes, we reached our destination with the traditional moment of celebration.

Dinner at the hotel was simple – a mixed salad and a baked fish with a caper tasting sauce. Pretty basic in comparison to some of my other dinners. Nevertheless, I was satisfied.

I took a stroll on the Main Street to the bridge that is Puente de Reina‘s namesake. Sundown had arrived. The river was calm. The area was quiet with no cars and only a man filling large water bottles at a public fountain behind me. A meditative moment.

As I walked back to my hotel (two buildings beyond the church tower), the town lanterns came on. They are electric but before such power was available, they were torches and a townsman walked the streets with a long staff to protect walkers. No need for a patrolman today as I passed locals talking at the nearby bar. Another day experienced.

Hotel Beidan: 2.5

Nine AM seems to be time that I get started so far. Down the block, right turn, and over the Romanesque bridge for the walk out of town.

Not every moment on the Camino is idyllic. Almost immediately I pass a factory whose purpose is to grind up earth most likely for cement. Close by were two very large open pits. The truck in the photo is the size of earth movers that you see on the highway.

But right around the next hill were two mares with their foals lying on the ground. The contrast could not have been more stark.

After ups and more downs on the trail, I took a welcome break for some cafe con leche. Others had the same idea in mind. I met up with some pilgrims who shared this morning’s breakfast with me. Josh turned up soon afterwards and told me that Racquel was taking the taxi to Pamplona because she was not feeling well.

We hiked the last 8 miles to Pamplona together. We crossed a Romanesque bridge built in the 11th C when we entered Trinidad de Arre, a suburb of Pamplona. We passed an example of a Spanish free lending library. Large Camino signs guided us through the streets until we reached the Pamplona’s city gate that hugged enormous city walls as high as 30 feet. Storm this walls? I had retuned!

Within a few hours, dinner time (8:30) required a 25 minute walk to the south outside the old centro to El Merca’o which Michelin designated with Bib icon as an establishment with excellent food at good prices. How about a delicious three course meal for 34 Euros that included bottled water, the wines for each course, bread, and coffee? I added one of its award winning pintxos (representing a crab composed of a shrimp spread layered with potatoes) and a glass of vermouth from Narvarra to start. BTW – Spain has hundreds of vermouth to taste.

My first course was garlic sautéed string beans followed by fideua (paella but with angel hair pasta instead of rice – I prefer the rice version) ending with Goxua, a Navarran take on crème brûlée but with whipped cream as base. The Goxua thankfully came in a small jar. I enjoyed a citrus tinged white wine on the acidic side with my string beans and fideua, A good complement.

Dinner ended at 10:30, a reasonable time in Spain. The streets were quiet except locals hurrying home. A very light rain dotted my puffy jacket as I made my way back to my hotel.

I have received some emails asking about my boots that arrived last October after a two and a half year wait. The boots took about 250 miles to break in. A day before traveling to Spain. I gave them a light coat of bear grease. They still looked new. After three days, they lost their virginity,

Hotel Alda: 2